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Nifty Fact for the day: Dheireadh is gaelic for ending or conclusion. One last fun fact for all of you out there in PCLand.
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Connor shoved the last of his clothes into the battered rucksack, pulling it closed with undo force, aware of his brother across the room doing the same.
There wasn't much to pack, most of the their belongings having been lost in the explosion at the hotel, only a couple of changes of clothes and a few personal items that had managed to survive the events of the last several months. All of their belongings would either fit in the duffel bags they used for missions or the matching rucksacks they had purchased from a nearby Salvation Army store.
The past twenty-four hours had been a blur of commotion for Connor, he had been a whirlwind of activity from the moment Murphy had come through the door and turned their entire world on its ear with five simple words.
I know where we're going.
Somehow while he was out at the bar, making Connor worry himself half to fucking death, his twin had found the leader of the Street Priests, he had discovered what the bastards were planning, and he knew where to start looking. Leave it to Murphy to go out with every intention of getting completely bollixed and, by God only knows what means, manage to stumble across the very thing they were looking for instead.
Only Murphy could pull something like that off. Cursed with luck their Ma had called it.
The preparations they were making were rushed and off the cuff, but it was the best they could do. It was going to be a long trip and the bastards they were after already had several days head start, they had to travel fast.
Yesterday, Connor had flipped open the classified adverts in the local paper, calling on the first car for sale that he had come across. Two more calls and $500 later, he and Murphy were now the proud owners of a 1985 Ford LTD. The thing was a tank, heavy, and ugly as sin, but it ran and was nondescript and that was all they really needed.
The plan was simple enough; leaving at first light, they would take turns driving for as long as they could stand, making up for lost time as much as they could. Inwardly, Connor wondered how long it would take the both of them being cooped up in a car together before they fucking killed each other.
His guess was about two days, tops.
Boredom was one of his brother's greatest bête-noirs, and confining Murphy to a small place was a very effective form of torture. Although cooping someone up with his twin in a small place could also be concidered cruel and unusual punishment, especially if that someone was Connor.
Looking up, he saw Danae standing in the doorway, her face ashen and grim as she watched them pack and felt a jagged stab of sympathy for her. This wasn't the way he wanted this to happen.
From the moment the decision had actually been made for them to leave, Connor had seen how very wrong he had been to assume that leaving without saying goodbye would be easier. Nothing in the fucking world would make leaving easier. Nothing.
Chancing a look at his brother, Connor frowned seeing how badly Murphy's hands shook as he packed, the tension was coming off of his twin in waves so thick that Connor could feel it down to his very bones.
Murphy was faking apathy, and doing a pretty fucking good job at it, but Connor knew him far to well to be fooled, and all of his brother's minute tells were screaming out his misery. Connor didn't understand why Murphy was putting this distance between himself and Danae, and he could only hope that his brother pulled his head out of his arse before they left and he came to regret his actions.
"I packed you guys a cooler," Danae said softly, and Murphy stilled at the sound of her voice, pausing for just a moment before going back to shoving things in his rucksack, never once looking up. "It's not much, just some sandwiches and stuff."
Frowning at his brother and slinging his own duffel bag over his shoulder, Connor ruffled her hair, making the newly short ends stick out in wild directions, and pressed a chaste kiss against her forehead.
"Thanks." He said offering her a small smile. He was going to miss her more than he allowed himself to think about. "We appreciate it."
She nodded, returning his smile with one that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"I'm sorry about this." He said.
"I know."
Without thinking, he swept her into a tight, one-armed hug. "We'll be back." He murmured. "Once this is all over."
This time her smile was genuine, despite the tears that had escaped and were now sliding slowly down her cheeks. "You'd better be."
"I promise ye that we will."
"Connor?" her voice was pitched low for his ears only, and he paused hearing the pain there, looking down at her.
"Aye?"
"Take care of each other."
He chuckled a little bit, giving her hair another tousle. "We always do."
She nodded her approval and Connor slipped past her, making is way out of the apartment and toward their waiting car, knowing that his twin wouln't be far behind.
o()o
Danae's heart was breaking.
She wasn't one for dramatics, and normally the word 'heartbroken' provoked a scoff and an eyeroll from her, but there was nothing else that could explain the almost physical pain in her chest.
Her family was leaving, they had given her no time to prepare, no time to say goodbye, they were just leaving.
And Murphy's abrupt change in behavior wasn't helping matters any. Since he had come home after his fight with Connor, he had been beyond indifferent, beyond precise, and the flat chill in his eyes worried her as much as it wounded her.
She watched him quietly for a moment as he crammed the few remaining things he owned into his bag, yanking it shut so tightly that she half expected the strings to break, still refusing to look at her or acknowledge that she was even there.
Slinging the rucksack over his shoulder and grabbing the black duffel bag, he brushed by her, heading toward the door.
"Murphy?" she asked tentatively.
"What?" he paused, body tense, his voice curt, almost angry.
Despite her best efforts, her lips began to tremble, eyes prickling again. Why was he doing this to her, did he think it was going to make it easier?
"Aren't you going to say goodbye?" she asked, staring at the toe of her sock. "Don't I at least deserve that much?"
She heard his soft intake of breath, the sound of his bags hitting the floor and suddenly she was in his arms, crushed against him so tightly she could scarcely breathe.
"Oh, Christ, I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair, his hand smoothing over her back. "I'm so fuckin' sorry about this, luv. I never wanted it ta be this way, never wanted ta hurt ye."
"I'm going to miss you so much." She choked out around the lump in her throat.
"Jesus, Danae, ye know I'll miss you too."
She heard him sniff softly and was surprised to see that his eyes were damp, all traces of aloofness now gone from the blue depths.
"Murphy," she began, but suddenly he was raining kisses down on her neck and shoulders.
"Ye could come." He murmured to her repeatedly. "It doesn't have ta be this way, ye could come with us, ye could come too."
Taking his face in both her hands, she tried to shush him, but only a quiet sob came out. "I can't, Murphy, you know that. There's no place for me where you're going."
Swallowing, already collecting himself, Murphy nodded and took her hand, placing it against his chest, over his heart. "Maybe not on the road, but there'll always be a place for ye here."
Feeling the warmth of his skin through the shirt he was wearing, and the strong heartbeat under her palm, Danae buried her face in his neck and struggled to find something to say to him. Whatever she said would be wrong, though, and she realized there was nothing she could say because everything sounded too much like goodbye.
"Will ye think of me from time ta time while I'm away?"
The ludicrousness of the question shook an unsteady laugh from her.
"Always." She whispered, "For the rest of my life, there won't be a day that goes by when I don't think of you."
The growing prickle in her eyes warned her that the words were a little too close to goodbye and she snuffled, forcing the lump in her throat away, she had to be strong now. This was hard enough as it was without her having a breakdown.
"When this is all over, I'm comin' back to ye, I swear."
"Both of you." She murmured against his shoulder and felt his soft chuckle.
"Aye, the both of us. Will ye wait for me, then?"
Danae nodded, knowing that she would wait forever if it meant she could have them back in her life.
They wouldn't return until it was over and Connor had explained to her that they couldn't keep in contact for fear of being discovered. She knew it was for the best, the smart thing to do, but that didn't stop the sting of his words and it didn't ease the gnawing feeling of being left behind. Of being left alone.
"I have ta go, we've lost too much time as it is." He said at last, looking down at her, moving a hand to the small of her back, guiding her toward the door. "Will ye see us off?"
As they stepped outside, Danae looked up at the muted, watery sunrise just as the first snowflakes came fluttering down, fluffy and fat, catching in her eyelashes and hair. Murphy chuckled tilting his face up to the sky before offering her a smile and a slow, sweet, kiss that left her weak kneed and more than a little breathless.
Standing on the front stair, shivering in the cold, she watched him walk away, toss his bag into the back seat, and nod toward his brother. Connor, who had been sitting patiently on the hood, smoking a cigarette, jumped off and gave his brother a quick, affectionate pat on the back, sliding in behind the wheel.
The engine rumbled to life and both brothers gave her a brief wave and a matching grin before Connor coaxed the reluctant car into motion.
Nothing could have prepared Danae for the onslaught of emotion that lambasted her when the car turned the corner and out of her sight, and nothing could ever compare to the feeling, it was like a brick hitting her in the chest: sharp, painful and unexpected.
So, this is devastation.
She had known from the first moment she'd met Murphy, and later Connor, that their presence in her life would be temporary, and she'd known the second they revealed to her who they were, that their calling would be the thing that took them away. But now they were actually gone, she had no idea when, or even if, she would ever see them again, and the hole their absense left inside of her seemed too wide and deep to ever heal.
Tears slipped down her cheeks and off of her chin, making tiny holes in the rapidly accumulating snow around her feet as she stared at the now empty corner.
There was no need to be strong now, no need to hide her anguish for the benefit of those she loved, and Danae wept until her chest ached. Noisy, gasping sobs tore through her and for a fleeting moment she wanted nothing more than to run after them, to chase down the car and tell them to stay, she would do anything if only they would stay.
The thought quieted as quickly as it had come. This was what they did; it was a fundamental part of who they were, as deep-seated and inborn as any of their physical attributes.
Heros, saviours and protectors of the innocent, this was what the MacManus men were made of. But it a was dangerous calling and as much as she was coming to understand it, it didn't diminish the fear that they wouldn't make it back to her, that someone would steal them away forever with a bullet and a spray of blood.
Finally the tears dwindled to a few hiccupping sobs and she took a deep breath in, wiping at the mess of tears and snow on her face.
They had said they'd be careful, and they had said they'd look out for each other, and most of all, they had promised that they would come back. She had to have faith that they would be true to their word, after all, they hadn't let her down yet.
Tilting her face to the sky, Danae sucked in another frozen breath and watched the last of the sunrise. She could do this; she knew she could.
All that was left to do now, was wait.
o( dheireadh )o
Author's Note: Okay, now it's over, LOL! Thanks to everyone who came along for the ride, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.