God, I should be in bed right now, but whatever. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, alerted, favorited, and simply read. You're all amazing, really. But, you all know how a story sometimes goes off and demands to be written in a certain manner? Well, this thing kind of did that. At breaking 7K for this chapter and being no where near the end, it's expanded itself into a THREE-SHOT. Hey, be fucking excited people, you all get another chapter. I don't feel that terrible about this, seeing as it was originally planned to be a three-shot but then my lazy ass made it a two-shot. Turns out it will do what the hell it wants to. Anyway, keep on the look out for the final - yes, it will be the end, I promise - part sometime next weekend. School starts this week, so I promise nothing until the weekend. Though, I have work today at 7:30 (it's currently 1:47 AM) until 2 PM, so I would be absolutely in love with you all if I came home from a long day of work to find reviews. Just sayin'. But I digress. Read and enjoy. I'm going to bed now. RJL
But it's all wrong, you're so strong.
But this life's work and choice took far too long.
Where'd it go to?
So what if you catch me, where would we land?
In somebody's life, forsaking his hands.
Sing to me hope as she falls in the sand.
All of your works are rated again.
Fair: Remy Zero
Part Two
One moment can change everything. A life, a memory, a person. In one split second, it can be destroyed, rebuilt, or completely forgotten. One single moment can be the deciding factor between life and death, love and hatred. One moment defines it all. Your life, your death, your soul. Everything depends on a single moment, a single flash in time that passes by before you're able to even acknowledge its presence. You might not even notice it pass by.
Veronica Waker had her moment just as Connor McManus began to realize his had already flown by unchallenged. Four bullets later, he regretted every decision he'd ever made.
"Penny fer yer thoughts?"
The bathroom was silent as they sat together, shoulder to shoulder, backs against the wall. The cuffs were gone from his wrists and ankles, thrown into the corner without much thought after they'd been removed. For the past hour they had sat in silence, Vera boring holes into the small cellular phone on the floor in front of her while Murphy found his eyes flickering the door every time he heard the slightest noise. On edge, everything sounded like a pissed off Russian coming to mow them down with whatever gun they had in hand. The house had been quiet for the past hour and both occupants of the small bathroom knew the silence was deadly.
"This is a terrible plan," Vera said quietly, hands weaving together nervously. Her eyes never moved on the phone on the floor, willing it to ring with every thought in her mind. It sat in response, unmoving and with out sound, vacant. She let out a small sigh.
Murphy looked away from his guard on the door to take in the woman beside him. Eyebrows knit together and burning gaze on the phone, she looked as if she was trying to blow it up. He dropped his arm around her shoulders comfortingly and gave her arm a pat. "It's not a stupid plan, V. It just happens ta be the only plan we got."
"Someone's going to get hurt," she muttered, lowering her head to her crossed arms, digging her chin into them thoughtfully. She frowned at his calm composure. "Don't lie to me, I know you're thinking the exact same thing."
He looked at her seriously, face void of all emotion and voice flat. "I'm not lyin' to ye, love. I have faith in the plan, even if ye don't. Everythin's goin' te be fine. Stop yer worryin'," he ordered, tapping the side of her head with a jab of his finger sharply. She gave him an annoyed frown and removed her gaze from him to focus back on the phone. He shook his head before resting it against the bathroom wall and ran his hand over his face with a tired groan. "Just because ye stare at the damn thing doesn't mean it's goin' te ring." Silence met his words as she ignored him.
They had been waiting for nearly an hour for the phone call. While a nagging voice, pushed to the back of his mind, warned him against the current scenario, he ignored it. He knew, even more so than Vera, the risks to what they were attempting to do. He knew that they were in danger, their lives literally hanging in the balance – depending on solely on when they received the phone call and when Jesse returned. If the call came too late, the house would be once again filled with the Russian mafia. If it came too soon, the entire plan could be ruined by their lack of protection.
Their survival depended completely on every party following the plan to the absolute letter. Days of planning had gone into the next few hours. Everything depends on this. It had to work. Murphy had no idea what to do if it didn't. There was no Plan B, no contingency plan or escape route. This was their only chance. If it didn't work, they were fucked. Absolutely fucked.
"Will you promise me something?"
Her soft voice was almost lost in his thoughts and he was almost convinced she hadn't said anything at all. If it weren't for the way she was staring at him, a look of complete and utter hopelessness on her face, he would have believed it. The emotion he found frightened him. Clearing his throat, he dipped his head and nodded. "I can try."
She took a deep breath and looked away. Releasing it slowly, her eyes seemed far away. "I need to know that if something happens tonight, that you'll make sure Jesse is alright," she said, voice quiet and distant. As Murphy opened his mouth to respond, she looked at him carefully and he stopped. "I know you have a duty, a calling or whatever you may call it, to be a Saint. I understand that, I really do. I just," she paused, looking lost as her eyes slowly became wet. A hand went to her eyes instantly, rubbing away the tears before they had a chance to fall. "I just need to know he'll be taken care of. He's an idiot, he can't even boil fucking water without burning down the house. You wouldn't need to take him in or anything, just make sure he doesn't do anything stupid that would make you go Saintly on his ass," she rushed forward, feeling as though she was asking too much as Murphy continued to stare at her in somewhat of shot. Her face flushed. "Sorry," she mumbled, head going down to rest on her knees once more, face still tinged pink.
He sat for a moment, openly gaping at her in surprise. Wanting very much to smack her upside the head, he restrained at the thought of his Ma hitting him over the head for hitting a sweet girl such as Vera. But Dia, she was an idiot. "Of course I'll watch te little bastard,cailín tú dúr," he muttered, shooting her an annoyed look. "Not that it makes much of a difference. Nothin's goin' to happen to ye, like I alread'e said. Stupid yer fuckin' worryin', would ye? Makin' me all nervous," he growled lowly, ignoring whatever his Ma might have thought as he flicked the girl sharply on the ear. "And I expect te same promise from ye. Connor's a right bakapor when on his own," he mused with a short grin. He turned serious quickly. "I watch yer bro'der, ye watch mine."
After a long moment of amazed silence, Vera found herself nodding in frantic agreement. "Yeah, you've got yourself a deal," she said, feeling her stomach settle if only slightly at their pact. She needed Jesse to be alright, no matter the circumstances. He was just a kid, for heaven's sake. He deserved better than having the mob living in their guest room and having a murderer – albeit a heavenly one – being held captive in the downstairs bathroom. He deserved a life to move towards when everything calmed down and the heat was gone.
The pair lapsed back into silence, more at ease than it had been all afternoon. He felt her body lean more heavily into him as her body finally relaxed. His arm tightened around her comfortingly and she dropped her head on his shoulder wordlessly. Eyes closed on their own account as she hummed softly to herself. Murphy could feel himself drifting. The humming continued.
Bugs crawled around his gut as they waited. He knew what a terrible idea it was. He knew that in a few hours, all hell would be breaking loose. He knew that at the exact same time the next day, he would be a free man or dead. There were no other options, not where they were going. He knew all this. He understood this. He was at peace with this. What he could not understand was why he was threatening the life of the woman beside him.
It would be simple to keep her and the boy out of harm's way. A simple hit to the back of the head would have them each out for a few hours, enough time for him to leave and disappear from their lives, taking with him the devil's men living in their front foyer. They would wake to find a free and safe home and he would be long gone, reunited with his own family. He could do that, with ease and without harm to either of the Waker children. A few hours and he would be having a beer with Connor and his Da, without a worry and without fear of the next day. It wouldn't take much to leave. A hit, a walk, a celebratory beer. No skin off his knees. No flying bullets, no chance of death for him or anyone else. He knew how easy it would be to walk out the front door, a free man. And yet he sat in a cramped bathroom that no longer smelled of flowers but instead of his own sweat and blood, wrung from him at the hands of bastards without names, with his arm around a woman that had risked her own life to stay beside him. His arm instinctively tightened as he let out a sigh.
He would not leave her, not after everything she had done for him. Nursing him back to health, risking everything to get word to Connor about his location, stealing him food – all of it done to both protect him and keep him alive. To leave now would be against everything he had ever been brought up to believe in. Vera Waker was as kind and caring of a person that he had met in far too long of a time. She was the type of person that he and Connor fought to protect, to save from the fuckers that walked freely down the streets. She was the reason he killed and called himself a Saint. He could not, would not, leave her to die.
The shrill ring of the cell phone made him jump and look to the door instantly as Vera flung herself forward, reaching for the phone. She tumbled onto the tile flooring and landed on her back, fumbling to open the device and finally pressed it against her ear with shaking hands.
"Hello?" she answered as Murphy dropped down beside her and put his ear next to the speaker to listen.
"You owe me a fucking year's supply of fucking Disaronno, you fucking bitch. Like, a fucking case every week." The harsh feminine voice that met their ears planted a face breaking smile on Vera and Murphy shook his head in mild amusement. The sounds of the city could be heard through the speaker as the woman continued talking. "Your brother is an asshole, Murphy. I'm sure you already know this, but I thought I'd reiterate the fact that he's a fucking asshole. You should have him put down," Charlotte continued fiercely as she continued down the snowy downtown streets. "Or give the man a muzzle or some shit, at the very least."
Vera let out a small laugh as Murphy only rolled his eyes and motioned with his hand to move things along. She nodded and broke through her friend's tirade. "I assume this means that you met with them?" she questioned, voice becoming serious.
The woman on the other end let out an aggravated sigh. "Damn right I did. Dropped off the shit you asked me to, too. They took it and promised to make the deadline," she relayed flatly. "They'll be breaking down the front doors at four, as you commanded, Oh Mighty Bitchtress. Seemed mighty eager, if I do say so myself. The asshole almost jumped my fucking bones when I told them about you, Murph. Like fucking puppies."
He couldn't help but smirk at her words. Fucking strange woman, but amusing. Vera finished their conversation quickly and hung up after promising to call later. He wasn't sure how much her old roommate had been made aware of, but he was certain that she had no idea how serious the situation truly was. It was fine with him, the less people who knew what was going to happen that night, the better. There was enough blood on his hands as it was.
Jesse Waker's moment came early, when he was only thirteen years old.
He had been witness to another angry fight between his parents and sister, the same continuous fight about her future. Their mother wanted politics, their father was pulling sternly for law or medical, and his poor sister simply wanted out of Boston in whatever fashion was the quickest. As it was Roni's last year in private high school, the future was the only thing of any concern to their parents. Everything she had done in life was leading up the moment when she would receive her diploma, graduating in the top ten percent of her class, and walking off the stage in an elegant fashion that would make her mother proud. Nothing else mattered to their parents except that simple slip of paper that announced her end to a high school education. She could have cared less, but it meant something to her parents and so Jesse had watched his sister force herself to care with an equal passion.
Dinner on the nights leading up to graduation became tense and silent as his parents continued to pressure her to make decisions that would effect the rest of her life. He had watched on in silence, thankful that he had years left to become accustomed to the pressure. He watched as they continued to bicker and fight amongst themselves, his sister working hard to mold her life into one she would find bearable to live as their parents pushed against her and against each other. He watched as his father struck his sister, sending her crashing to the ground as she sobbed. He watched as his father locked himself away in his office, ashamed and horrified by his actions as he poured himself another Scotch. He watched as his mother walked away without a glance towards her sobbing teenage daughter.
He watched as the moment passed him by.
She waited for the signal that would mean her freedom, tugging her coat closer to her body. Still in shock that her mother had even agreed to help her escape the house, Vera didn't know what to expect. Leaving her mother's room with only the words "Be ready in twenty minutes" to hold onto, she felt herself tense with every passing moment. She hadn't even gotten the chance to tell either Jesse or Murphy what was going on, not that she was even sure of what was happening herself. Her foot tapped restlessly as she looked around anxiously for her mother.
The front door rang and she had to hold herself back from answering it as one of the men from the kitchen came to answer it. Unable to hear the words exchanged between him and the person at the door, she continued to wait. Loud, girlish laughter made her looked around the hall corner in curiosity and her eyebrows disappeared beneath her bangs as she watched the lanky call girl walk into her foyer, a lime green feather boa resting over her shoulders. Vera stared in astonishment as she and the man who had answered the door walked into the family room to a round of cheers and shouts, followed by table pounding. Eyes wide, she leaned back around the corner and rested against the wall for a moment before bolting down the carpeted hallway, almost breaking the window as she threw it up and climbed out onto the fire escape. Trust her mother to have connections with the Red Light District.
Cold air broke across her face as she pounded down the metal stairs and she smiled at the feel. It had been nearly a month since she had been allowed to freely roam in and out of her own home. The escape ladder crashed loudly as it hit the ground and she stepped off it with a triumphant grin. Looking up the the window she knew was from her parent's floor, she flipped the bird before turning away. "Fuck you, assholes," she murmured bitterly.
Tucking her hands into her plaid coat pocket, she walked down the alley towards the street that ran in front of their apartment building. Her breaths turned to crystal in the air and she could already feel her nose freezing. It didn't take long for her to locate a pay phone and she took refuge inside it, shutting the plexi-glass door against the cold. With cold fingers she pulled a few coins from her pocket and slipped them in the slot and dialed a number she'd long since memorized. Leaning against the booth's wall, she waited while watching the traffic pass by on the street.
"C'mon, you stupid bitch. Answer the phone," she muttered, shifting impatiently. She straightened at the sound of the other line clicking on, followed by rustling and a groan.
"Who the fuck dares disturb my rest at fucking four in the afternoon?" The voice was angry and Vera could hear the shuffling of bottles, no doubt left over from the night before, and the familiar clink of a lighter opening. Charlotte hadn't changed a bit. The thought was comforting. "Seriously, who the fuck is this?" she said again, voice clearer and less sleep laden.
"Vera," she said, leaning her head against the pay phone with a small smile. "Sorry to disturb your much needed beauty sleep, but I have a favor to ask of you."
There was a pause and she heard the faint sounds of a heavy sigh. "This a favor a favor?" The second time was stressed in an obnoxious accent.
"It's a favor, Lot, I don't know what other kind of favors there could possibly be. I just need you to do something for me," Vera said with a hint of annoyance lacing her tone.
"Yeah, but is this a favor you plan to return or one that you're making because you're about to fucking kick the bucket and want free shit out of me?" Charlotte asked as she sat down in front of her laptop, quickly moving to boot it up as she took another drag of her cigarette. "You know me, V. I don't do shit for free, not even for you."
Wasn't that the almighty truth. "I plan to return the favor, don't worry," she assured, hurrying along to finish the conversation before her change ran out. "All I need is for you to hack into the city's database and find the plans for my apartment building and bring them to a friend of mine," she said, listening to the clacking of a keyboard. "Then I need you to find someone's cell number for me."
"Can I assume that the person with the phone gets the prints?" Charlotte asked, voice muffled by the balanced cigarette in her mouth as she typed with both hands. The prints were already up on her screen and she clicked the little printer icon with a smirk. Fucking pie.
Vera nodded her head against her arm as she leaned against the pay phone again. "Yeah, the phone is listed under Connor McManus." She spelled the name quickly and waited, digging a pen out of her pocket, poising it in wait over her palm. She scribbled down the number that Charlotte prattled off quickly and stuffed the pen away. "Okay, I just need you to drop off the plans at a bar named McGinty's in the South end. Connor will meet you at ten."
"That all, Master?" Charlotte deadpanned, fingers still flying over her keyboard. "You know that I live to serve you."
"Yeah, that's it," Vera answered with a scoff. She knew her coins were about to run out. "I'll talk to you later, alright? Thanks for doing this for me, but I have to go. Bye, Lot."
She hung up the phone before her college roommate had a chance to respond and she pushed her way out of the phone booth, apologizing to the woman waiting to use it next. She walked back down the street, retracing her steps from only minutes before, mood sullen. She climbed the fire escape ladder and pulled it up after her before treading up the steps that led to the hallway window. Letting her self in, she heard hollers and claps coming from the family room. The window dropped loudly and she winced, looking down the hallway in anticipation, but no one came thundering down to catch her. She'd made it.
Walking slowly down the hall, she stopped outside the bathroom where she knew Murphy was cuffed to a chair, injured and at risk of dying. She knew better than to listen to his constant reassurances that came after he cursed in pain or yelled in agony. He was in more pain than he was willing to admit, more wounded than she could heal. She wasn't a doctor or even a premed student. She was a business major, for heaven's sake. There was only so much that clean bandages and cheap disinfectant could do before infection won out. He didn't have time to waste away. Hell, he didn't have time at all. If infection didn't kill him soon enough, the Russian's would. An idiot could see that they were beginning to get bored with their toy. Murphy McManus was a marked man, a man headed towards death unless someone did anything to save him. Hand moving towards the handle, Vera more than sure that she could be that someone.
Pushing open the door she was met with the scene of Jesse taking her place atop the bathroom counter, a Game Boy in hand as Murphy sat in his chair, appearing to be half asleep. His eyes flew open at the sound of the door opening but he relaxed upon seeing her. Jesse looked up from his game and shut it off immediately, jumping to his feet with a lopsided grin.
"You get it?" he asked, eagerly rocking his weight back an forth as he bounced on his feet.
Vera only stared at him as she moved around him to set about checking the newest wounds adorning Murphy's already battered and broken body. They exchange a look of acknowledgement. Turning back to her little brother, she smirked. "Depends. You get yours?"
"Of course I fucking got it, bitch. Have you no faith in me?" Jesse answered with a roll of his eyes as he dug around the pocket of his gray slacks. He pulled out his hand and Murphy almost choked when he saw what was resting in the boy's white palm. A ring of small keys and a gray, beaten around the edges, cellular phone. Jesse grinned widely, tossing the items onto the counter before he hopped back up himself. "Really wasn't all that difficult. The Russian's are fucking idiots, leaving all sorts of shit lying around. Nicked a couple bucks off them, as well."
Murphy could only look between the two siblings in amazement as they continued joking and ragging on the Russian's in the next room over. He winced and looked down sharply at the pain in his side as Vera ripped off the soiled gauze. She shot him an apologetic look but continued her work without hesitation. Jesse's feet knocked against the front of the counters as he swung them in a bored fashion.
"So, what's the plan, Roni?" he asked in an overly sweet voice. His teeth showed as he grinned cheekily, head cocked to the side while he batted his eyelids. "We gonna bust out of here guns blazin' or what?"
"Bust out? What the fuckin' hell are ye two talkin' about?" Murphy growled out just as Vera prodded at his side again, making him hiss in pain. She muttered an apology. He shook his head at her and fixed Jesse with a glare. He seemed more likely to crack pressure. "What the fuck is goin' on?"
"We're breaking you out of here," the boy returned simply, not at all phased by the look that was being sent his way. "Thought that much was obvious, fuckface."
"Jesse," Vera warned halfheartedly, not bothering to look away from her work. The infection in his side was worse, nothing she had been doing was doing any good. He needed a real doctor, not some college kid. She let out breath and leaned away from the silent Irishman, throwing a bloody towel into the sink. "We have your phone and the keys to your cuffs, but you don't get either until you give us your word not to go tearing out of here the second we take off the restraints. You're weak and wounded, not to mention the bastards outside that have no problem with shooting the first thing that moves. You need our help if you want to make it out of here," she said seriously, crossing her arms over her chest as she stood up and leaned against the counter.
Once again, Murphy looked between siblings with incredulity as they both fixed him with matching, stony gazes. After a moment, he shrugged his shoulders violently, ignoring the pain in doing so. "What? I'm not a fuckin' retard, ye know," he grumbled forcefully as Jesse broke out in a grin. Vera didn't move. He let out a growl and shook his head with a roll of his eyes. "I promise not to run like fuckin' Bullwinkle when ye take off me cuffs. Swear on me bro'der's life."
There was no other way to weigh his promise, and Vera was aware of his honesty. A small smile broke out as Jesse jumped off the counter, grabbing the keys as he did so. Unlocking the shackles around the wrists first, he handed the keys to Murphy to unlock his ankles himself. After standing from the chair and throwing the metal restraints into a corner without a second glance, Murphy stretched widely, wincing as he pulled on his side bandages by relishing the feeling of freedom. He took the phone from Vera as she handed it to him with a smile.
"Call your brother," she said, taking a step back as he stared at the simple device for a few seconds. He didn't need to be told twice. Settling herself on the counter next to her brother, she slipped an arm around him and pulled him into a hug, a gesture he accepted with a boyish grin. "You did good," she whispered softly. Giving him a grateful smile, she leaned her head onto his shoulder and watched Murphy dial the number.
He waited anxiously, already pacing the length of the room. It rung only once before being picked up.
"Murph?" the voice was clouded by bad reception, but Murphy didn't give a flying fuck. The breath he didn't even know he was holding escape him in a bark of laughter. There was no mistaking the voice on the other line.
"Aye. It's me, bro'der."
The Waker siblings watched in fascination as the man who had been living in their bathroom for nearly three weeks transformed completely. Light appeared behind his blue eyes as his voice slipped between languages easily, as though by second nature. His face livened as his conversation continued and no one could miss the stupid, almost goofy, grin of relief on his suddenly younger face. After a few minutes of listening, Vera motioned towards the phone with a hand and Murphy looked at her questioningly.
"Tell him to be at McGinty's at ten tonight, there'll be someone there to meet him and give him plans on the building," she said quietly, able to hear the accented voice coming through the speaker as Murphy leaned forward. He nodded and repeated what she said in his own accented English. He smirked at the response that Connor gave him and he pulled his ear away from the receiver, covering the speaker as he did so. "He wanted me to warn ye that he and Da will be showin' up tomorra' whether we're ready or not. Says that four would be best for him, there's a game on he wants ta catch at six on the telly."
Jesse let out a laugh as Vera shook her head, unamused. She could already tell that this Connor was in fact Murphy's twin. "We need an exact time," she said, voice serious. "We have no means of protection for when everything blows to hell. You need to give us time to get guns."
"I can get you your guns back, just give me a few hours with the fuckers," Jesse agreed, laughter dying. "I can probably get all your shit back by tomorrow afternoon, actually. I heard they had some of your shit sent over with you when they bought you off the Yanks," he continued thoughtfully.
Murphy nodded and turned back to his conversation, talking quickly in yet another language. After a few more moments, he flipped the phone shut and tucked it away in his pocket. He let out a sigh and ran both hands over his face before looking at them with a smirk. "He an' Da will be stormin' the castle tomorrow at four o'clock sharp. Be ready or they'll blow ye the fuck away."
"Hell fucking yes," Jesse muttered, unable to keep the grin off his face as Vera shook her head. And so it begins.
At three thirty, they began to panic. Not silent, brooding panic. Full fledge, every other word and adjective was replaced with 'fuck', to hell with the world, we're fucking fucked, panic. Mrs. Waker was gone from the house, as she had been warned of the afternoon's activities and had fled the building without minutes. Judge Waker had missing since that morning, but no one had paid much mind with the afternoon in mind. Jesse had planned to be back by two o'clock at the latest, and they had yet to hear from him. Murphy was without a weapon, Vera was without a brother, and both were without their ability to reason.
The clock continued to tick it's way closer to four o'clock and the raid, Vera felt herself becoming sick with nerves. Once again, doubts began to flood her mind. Every possible way the plan could go wrong was flashing before her eyes. Jesse, dead in a pool of blood – shot in the back of the head. Her mother, body twisted in impossible angles, lying at the bottom of the stairs, eyes hollow and face empty. Her father, shot and left to die in his office, alone and dying without sympathy. Murphy, beaten and bloody, shot before her eyes as she stands, unmoving and unable to help him or any of the others. Herself, staring down the barrel of a gun, held by a man with no name and no forgiveness. Herself, bleeding in the very bathroom she now stood. Herself, dead. Jesse, dead. Murphy and Connor, dead. Their father, dead. Everyone, dead. Her stomach lurched.
Murphy spun on his heel at the sound of retching and quickly walked to where Vera was bent over the toilet. Kneeling down behind her, he grabbed her hair and held it from falling into the ceramic basin. His hand went to her back where he rubbed gentle circles while he rested his head against her shoulder, soft foreign words coming from his mouth in comfort. He felt her sobs before they made sound and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his lap as he turned on his side to lean against the wall. Her body curled against his chest as she wept unabashed, unable to stop them out of want or embarrassment.
He held her, Gaelic running off his tongue in gentle words as he felt her. Her body was small against his and her head fit beneath his chin almost perfectly. His arms around her, she felt the protection rolling off him. Her sobs became less violent as he continued to whisper words in her ears, words she didn't understand but loved all the same. A hand ran through her hair, working through knots with caring gentleness, as the other rubbed her thigh with the thumb. The sobs subsided to soft whimpers and slow tears but neither moved.
He knew that they were wasting time. He knew that at any moment, Jesse or a some man with a gun could come barreling through the door and kill them. He knew that his brother and father would be arriving in moments, guns guaranteed to be blazing as they came to save him. He knew that sitting here, with her in his arms, should be the last thing he was to do in these last few moments before everything was overtaken by chaos. He knew all of this and still did not move. They sat, she in his arms, for a few more peaceful moments before he finally forced himself to move.
"Gra tá i mo chroí do amháin agat," he finished softly, pressing a kissing against her hair. He lingered, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, the flowery smell he had awoken to all those weeks ago, knowing her before he'd even opened his eyes. Pulling away slowly, he nudged her head with his nose gently. "We need to prepare," he said voice low as she nodded without a word. Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath and wiped away the tears from her blotched face with a trembling hand. She made sure to be mindful of his injuries as she pulled away from him and stood up, straightening her clothes as Murphy hefted himself up behind her.
Just as Vera finished fixing her appearance in the mirror, the door flew up and Jesse threw himself into the room, slamming the door behind him. Murphy and Vera stared at him in stunned silence for a few seconds before the woman threw herself at him, catching him in a rib cracking hug that forced him to drop the black bag in his hand as he caught her before they both tumbled to the ground. "God, what the fuck is wrong with you, Roni? I'm not that late," Jesse defended after she pulled away and set him with a death glare. "Not my fuckin' fault that the Russian's like to hide shit around here. Your stuff was under the freezer, if you'd believe that," he said, grabbing the bag and tossing it to Murphy, who caught it easily. Unzipping the bag, he grinned at the contents. The kid had done good.
"Is that enough," Vera asked in a worried tone, coming over to look what all was in the black duffel. Her eyes widened and her instantly felt stupid for asking. "Looks like you're all set there, Rambo," she muttered, eying the large hunting knife that Murphy was currently handling with exceeding care. The black bag damn near held an armory inside its fabric. She watched as he pulled out a long rosary and his face became solemn. He dropped it over his head where it settled on his chest as he made the sign of the cross and picked the cross up, kissing it before letting it drop once more.
"Prepare yerselves," Murphy said as he pulled on a gun holster that looped around under both arms and crossed mid shoulder. Slipping guns into their places and slipping the hunting knife into his boot, he turned to face the siblings. In that moment, he looked every part the killer the Russian's had made him out to be. There was no denying the look upon his face, the darkness of his eyes, the way his hands were steady. He looked at his phone for the time. 3:54. "When the bullets start te fly, keep yer heads, alrigh'? We can't protect ye if yer running all over the fuckin' place like a chicken with a head. Stay close to me or Connor or Da, alrigh'? No fuckin' wanderin', Jesse."
The boy raised his arms in surrender and looked serious for once. "No worries, Murph. I want to it out of this alive, no fucking around from me," he said, lowering his arms to his side again. "No shenanigans from his little bastard tonight, you have my word."
"Good," Murphy said, tucking his last gun in the back of jean waistband. He looked at a silent Vera in question. "Ye gonna be alright, love?" he asked, taking a step towards her as she nodded. He gripped her upper arm tightly before releasing. "It'll all be over be ye know it, don't worry yer pretty little head about it. Connor and Da will be here any minute now. Almost there," he promised, stepping away from her as she smiled the tiniest of smiles. He smiled in return, knocking her chin up with his finger. "There's me smilin' g'url, knew she was in there somewhere."
She smiled wider and jerked her chin away playfully as Murphy returned the black bag, picking it up before handing it back to Jesse. "Ye mind holdin' on te that fer me until we get outta here?" He didn't wait for an answer and checked his phone again. 3:59. "Watch yerselves," he warned, walking to the front of the bathroom, putting himself between the door and the others, just as the time clicked to four o'clock and a large crash sounded outside, followed by shouts. He couldn't keep the wide grin from splitting his face.
Shouts and shots were heard as they waited in the bathroom, Murphy with a gun pointed at the door with a steady hand. The shots stopped suddenly while the shouts continued and he lifted the gun as footsteps sounded in the hall. Vera couldn't contain the scream that sounded when the door shook on it's hinges following a large crash on the otherwise. Her hand slipped into Jesse's as they watched the door shake and shots sounded on the immediate other side. The doorknob rattled but the door remained locked.
"Fuckin' hell! Murphy, open de goddamn door, ye little asswipe!" a voice yelled from the other side as more shots were fired. His arm dropped instantly and he leaped forward, throwing open the door only long enough to let a man fall in before he threw it shut again, managing to fire a few bullets before doing so. Connor lay in a heap on the ground, chest heaving as he looked up at his brother in a mix of anger and relief. Jumping to his feet, he pulled Murphy into a one armed hug, gun hanging from his other hand, limp and forgotten. Vera and Jesse watched as Murphy stood frozen for a moment before he seemed to digest what had just happened before he arms wrapped around his brother tightly. After a moment, Connor pulled away with a wide grin and smacked him over the head with a laugh. "Damn ye, Murphy McManus, yer goin' to be the death of me, ye know that? Fuck, couldn't ye just open the de damn door fer yer bro'der? Is that too much to fuckin' ask?"
Murphy frowned and reached up to smack his twin upside the head. "Don't give me that shite, you fucker. Least ye coulda' done was announce yer fucking presence."
"Announce me, announce me presence?" Connor repeated incredulously with a frown. He motioned to the door while yelling. "Did ye go deaf in yer absence, Murph? We damn near blew the fuckin' place up on our way in, ye idiot."
The argument between brothers was interrupted as bullets flew through the top of the door, causing bother Irish twins to swear and return fire through the wood without hesitation. Vera and Jesse stood at the back of the bathroom, unmoving and silent as they watched the Saints at work. There was silence except for the sound of gun fire and shouts of pain from the hallway. They ceased firing when no new fire came towards them and Murphy walked up to the door, looking through one of the multiple holes at the hallway outside. Turning back, he shrugged to Connor.
"Nothin' movin' out there," he said. Connor's lips drooped as he shrugged in a frown. Murphy looked back to Jesse Vera, motioning them with a hand as he kept an eye for movement outside. He deftly heard Connor introduce himself to the siblings and noted to punch him in the face for mentioning himself as the older twin. Reaching behind him, he grabbed Jesse's arm and pulled him forward, pushing his face into the door. "Ye see anything out there, boy?" he asked, turning to Connor and motioned to Vera. Without words, the movement was understood. Connor would take Vera, Murphy would take Jesse. Find Da, get out. Simple plan.
Jesse looked out the hole with wide eyes and pulled back, shaking his head. "No, I don't see anything moving out there," he said.
"Good," he said, surprisingly cheerful. Jesse looked back at him before he felt himself falling forward out the now open door, only to be caught by Murphy before he hit the ground. "Mind yerself, Jesse," he said, pulling the boy behind him to fire shots at a man about to round the corner. He looked back once to Connor and nodded to him before sharing a short glance with Vera. "See ye soon, love," he said before taking off down the hall, Jesse in tow.
She watched them disappear around the corner before she had a chance to say a word. She watched with and sent a prayer to the God Murphy loved so much. Protect them. Simple and hopefully an easy prayer to answer. Vera had little more chance to think before Connor grabbed her by the hand and hauled her down the hallway in the opposite direction that the others had gone. They passed numerous bodies as Connor navigated the first floor easily. Apparently the blue prints had been useful. She stumbled once, only to be caught by the arm and thrown a dashing smirk before they continued. Connor shooting, Vera struggling to keep the pace. He finally got them to the front door and as he opened it turning around briefly to throw her an reassuring grin and opened his mouth to speak, it happened.
Veronica Waker had her moment as she found herself staring at a nameless man from the end of the hallway, eyes only focusing on the gun in his hand and the aim he had taken at Connor. Connor, the man she had promised Murphy she would care for in his absence. Connor, the man who had risked everything to save not only his own brother, but hers as well along with her own life. In that moment, everything was clear. In that moment, she did not hesitate to switch their places of protection. In that moment, she felt infinite. Four bullets later, and she felt nothing at all.
The Gaelic that Murphy speaks to Vera basically means 'Love is only in my heart for you', I'm a sap - so fucking sue me.
Review and whatnot, if you'd be so kind.
RJL