Connor, to Murphy's shock, kept dating Kaitlin through the next couple of months. If he saw his brother, it was usually with the red-head at his side, beaming happily or giggling, blushing. Connor would spot him, call him over and Murphy had to steel himself and plaster a smile. Connor's arm thrown around his neck was agonizing bliss.

He could never form more than two words when Kaitlin was around. Murphy supposed that's why Kaitlin always eyed him a bit funny but he couldn't care less what the tart thought of him. Connor would rib him, calling him shy. Playing along he looked down at his feet, mumbling.

Murphy started talking less and less at school, throwing himself into his studies and he made a point of not being home afterwards. His Ma might not be educated, but she was sharp and she would pry, knowing there was something wrong. Murphy couldn't handle someone else's prying.

It got colder and colder outside, making it difficult for Murphy to wander and draw. He started perusing the local library's art section. Murphy took great solace there, and he knew no one would go looking for him at the library. He would drown in the huge colorful pages…he decided he liked impressionism the best. It was bright, beautiful and undefined. It was the way he and Connor used to be.

xXxXxXx

Murphy whistled idly as he made his way home. He could never be forlorn around Christmas time, the decorations and pretty lights twinkled merrily and they rubbed off on him.

Murphy tromped up the stairs, grunting at the heaviness of his books. He promptly dropped them all when he saw Connor sitting on his bed.

"Connor! AH! Fuck!"

Murphy cursed as one of his heavier books landed on his foot. He heard Connor laugh and stride over to help.

"Easy there Murph, no broken toes…"

When they managed to dump all the books on his desk, Murphy turned to look at his brother.

"Where's Kaitlin?"

Connor shrugged.

"Ah, Christmas shopping with her mum. Couldn't stand ta be dragged along, don't know if I'll hear tha end of it…but I missed ya."

Murphy smiled brightly.

"Aye well, it's good ta see ya, thought I was hallucinatin' fer-"

He stopped short when he noticed his sketchbook lying open on Connor's bed. Murphy's heart clenched painfully.

"What is THAT doin' there?!"

Connor had the decency to look horribly embarrassed.

"Well, I saw it lyin' around and-"

Murphy was reeling.

"No, ya DIDN'T see it lyin' around. I NEVER leave it lyin' around."

Connor put his hands up in a conciliatory gesture, face red and openly pleading for Murphy to calm down.

"Murph, relax, alright? I saw tha corner sticken outta tha edge o' your desk drawer…I was wrong ta snoop, m'really sorry."

Murphy debated hitting Connor, but thought better of it. He hadn't seen his brother in what felt like an age. If he decked Connor he might not see him again for two. He satisfied himself with grabbing the sketchbook and shoving it angrily back in its place.

"Aye, well, ya should be."

Connor sank back to his bed and when Murphy turned around his brother was fixing him with a gaze that tore the breath from his lungs. He made himself busy shuffling school papers.

"Murph."

Murphy took a deep breath and forced himself to look at his brother. Connor had a small smile on his face, and he shook his head in amazement.

"Murphy, I had no idea…those drawings… you are so fucken talented."

Murphy favored his brother a grateful if grudging smile.

"Christ, tha drawing of our sliding hill…it's so fucken GOOD Murph, I recognized it straight away. How long have ya been drawin'?"

He went beet red. That was his favorite drawing. Murphy didn't know how Connor managed to hone right in on him like that. He half suspected his brother did it without meaning to, but that didn't make it any easier on him.

"Well, since around when you an Katie started running tagether. I was wanderin' around one day, I had extra paper and a pencil in me bag. Tha mood just struck. I really don't know why I did it."

Connor nodded, looking down at his lap and debating whether or not Murphy would fly off the handle if he asked him another question.

"Ma says yer gone a lot. Where d'ya go?"

Murphy bristled visibly.

"Checkin' up on me are ya? Because I don't ask where you an Katie get off ta."

Connor frowned.

"Well, I assumed ya wouldn't want ta know."

Murphy shot a heated look of daggers at his brother.

"Likewise."

Connors head sank into his hands, defeated. Shaking his head he stretched out on his bed, not looking at Murphy.

"Is there any way I can just walk back in here again, an we could start tha conversation over?"

Connor's pained whisper made Murphy cringe. He told himself he wasn't going to fight with his brother. He was almost positive Connor would rather have been decked than talked to like that, and the thought made him a little ill.

"Fuck."

He moved to sit beside Connor on the bed. He laid a hand on his brothers back and felt his heart bleed when Connor gasped at the touch.

"Connor, I'm sorry."

His brother shuddered.

"Myself as well."

They stayed that way until Murphy could bear the burning in his hand no longer. He got up and flopped onto his bed, suddenly exhausted.

"Tha library."

Connor lifted his head onto his arms and looked quizzically at his brother.

"Wha?"

Murphy rolled onto his side, propping himself up with one arm.

"Ya asked where I get off ta when m'not home."

Connor mimicked his brothers action, quizzical look still on his face.

"Whaddya go there fer?"

Murphy blushed, fiddling with his blanket. Connor closed his eyes wanting to burn the way his brother looked right then into his brain.

"Well, I've gotten ta really like drawin'. I figured I should look at artwork, pictures an paintins and tha like… one o' my teacher's said I should… if I wanted ta improve, ya know?"

Connor smiled.

"Well Murph, I think ya've already got the one-up on just about everyone in tha county."

Murphy smiled brightly at his brother's praise, he really couldn't help it. No one else's opinion mattered to him. Connor sat up abruptly, a thought occurring.

"Hey, I think I have just tha thing…"

Murphy just watched in curiosity as his brother rifled through his own desk, cursing. Connor gave a little shout of delight when he found what he was looking for.

"Here ya go."

He handed Murphy a large piece of corkboard and a box of tacks with a flourish and a shy grin. Murphy just looked up at his brother confused. Connor shuffled his feet a bit.

"Ah, Aunt Mary gave it ta me last year when she was cleanin' out her closets. I never had tha use fer it. You should hang yer sketches up. They're really good."

Murphy swallowed the lump of gratitude growing in his throat. It was a fucken corkboard, and it was the most thoughtful thing Connor had ever given him. He smiled brilliantly.

"Thanks Connor. I'll hang it up tanight."

Connor grinned and ruffled Murphy's hair.

"M'glad ya like it."

They both jumped in unison at the loud grating shout that boomed upstairs from the kitchen.

"I'll not be waitin' another minute fer you ungrateful heathens ta get down here for dinner!!"

Murphy pulled a serious face and looked over his brother's shoulder.

"Connor, wha's tha?"

He fell for it, as he always did. Connor cursed Murphy's wickedness but he was smiling as he flew down the stairs after his laughing brother.