A/N: Cedar Junction is a maximum security prison in Mass.
Thanks to my badass reviewers! Much Love! Also, thanks to St. Stephen's and, of course, GoddessLaughs, for the brainstormin' and betain'!
As always, read and review...concrit most welcome!
Chapter 11
As Connor reached out a hand toward her, Luciana, eyes widening in terror, flinched away from him. Her reaction to him struck him like a fist to the gut. The look in her eyes reminded Connor of the look she got when she spoke of Vic. He wanted to go to her and make her understand that he and Murphy weren't like Vic. They would never hurt her. Unfortunately, that was going to have to wait.
They had a theatre full of people who would, very shortly, be streaming through the lobby on their way home. They also had three very bloody and very unconscious men lying on the lobby floor. That combination could prove explosive it something wasn't done quickly.
The logical part of his brain kicking into overdrive, he turned away from Luciana, who was still sitting on the floor, and looked at his twin. Murphy met his gaze unflinchingly, and Connor saw his resolve reflected in his brother's face. His message was clear.
This disaster first, then Luciana.
"Let's get Ramon down here." Connor said, glancing around at the bodies and blood that now decorated the lobby. "And Duffy."
Murphy nodded brusquely and headed back into the office. After a moment, he heard his twin's voice drifting through the door, explaining the situation to someone on the other end of the line.
Hopping back over the counter, Connor grabbed the gunman by both arms and pulled him around the counter, dumping the man unceremoniously on the office floor. After pausing for a moment to listen to Murphy impress upon someone to hurry, he repeated the maneuver with the other two thugs. After rummaging in the utility closet he found a roll of duct tape, which he used to restrain the three junkies.
As he was finishing up with the third man, Murphy hung up the phone and Connor shot him a questioning glance.
"Ramon is on his way in." Murphy said, as he offered Connor and hand, pulling him to his feet. "He should be here before the movie lets out."
"And Duffy?"
"He and Dolly will be here in twenty minutes." Murphy replied. "He said they should be able to keep us out of it."
Connor let out a relieved sigh. "Well, let's see if we can't find something to hold your fuckin' cheek closed until we get home. Yer bleedin' all over yerself."
"I'm fuckin' fine." Murphy said and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go check on Luciana. I think she's in worse shape than me."
When they came out of the office, Connor was surprised to see Luciana standing, her back to them, wiping something up off the counter.
"Are ye alright?" He asked her.
She jumped at the sound of his voice, but didn't turn around.
"All right?" Her voice seemed to come from far away. "I suppose so."
"Duffy and Dolly are on their way." Murphy said. "Ramon is coming in, too."
She nodded in acknowledgement and continued wiping down the counter. It was not lost on either twin that she had yet to look either of them.
We aren't fucking monsters Connor thought, hoping it was true.
Murphy, concern softening his voice, asked, "Why don't ye sit down?"
"Need to clean up this-" she gestured towards the counter. "This blood."
"Let Murph and I take care of that. Come sit down."
When she didn't respond, Connor cocked an eyebrow at his brother. Murphy's eyes widened in response and he shrugged his shoulders.
Connor was struggling to come up with something else to say to Luciana, when the outer door swung open and Greenly walked in. His halfway untucked shirt and mismatched shoes made Connor chuckle in spite of himself.
"Yer lookin' lovely this evening, Detective." Murphy said, clearly thinking along the same lines. The look Greenly shot them made it perfectly clear where he thought they should go.
"What the fuck's going on?" He asked glancing around. "Duffy called and told me to get my ass over here ASAP."
"Had a spot of trouble with some junkies." Connor explained. "Why'd they call you?"
"Probably because I only live a few blocks away." Greenly's eyes settled on Luciana, who was still wiping the counter automatically, oblivious to the conversation going on around her. "What can I do?"
Connor waved Greenly over. In a whisper, he said, "We can take care of things here until the cavalry arrives, but Luciana," His eyes flicked over towards her and Greenly's followed. "Isn't taking it so well. The assholes threatened her. Knife at her throat, the whole bit."
He didn't add anything about the fear that had shone in her eyes when she had looked at Murphy and himself.
"Can ye take her back to yer place?" Murphy asked, wiping at the blood that was slowly continuing down his cheek. "Conn and I'll come get her when we get this fuckin' mess cleaned up."
Greenly expression was priceless. He looked over at Luciana, his eyes widening. He opened and shut his mouth several times, but nothing came out.
Murphy slapped him on the shoulder and shoved him in Luciana's direction.
Connor and Murphy watched in reserved silence as Greenly approached Luciana, speaking to her in a low voice. He couldn't hear what Greenly said, but it seemed to bring Luciana back to the present.
She looked at Greenly for a long moment before nodding her head.
As she walked around the counter to meet Greenly at the door, she paused in front of them. Her eyes flicked briefly to his face and then Murphy's, before dropping down to her hands, which were clasped in front of her.
"Tell Ramon I'm sorry about the mess." She said softly.
"Are ye-" Murphy began, moving towards her.
Connor grabbed his brother's wrist before Murphy's hand reached her arm. "Aye, we'll tell him. We'll be over ta Greenly's for ye shortly." He said, cutting off his twin's words.
She nodded absently and headed towards Greenly, who was waiting at the door.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Murphy rounded on him. "How could ye just let her go like that?"
"Are ye fucking blind?" Connor retorted. "She can't even look at us, for Chrissakes. We need to give her some space."
Murphy looked like he was ready to fire off a nasty retort when the outer door burst open yet again.
Duffy and Dolly came in looking only slightly more put together than Greenly had when he arrived. Dolly's normally slicked back hair was in disarray and Duffy's horrible orange tie was hanging loosely around his neck.
"Did we just see Greenly pulling away?" Dolly asked, looking around the nearly empty lobby. His eyes came to rest on the fresh blood drying on the carpet. He elbowed Duffy, pointing.
"That ye did." Murphy said, raising a hand in greeting, which neither detective noticed.
"So are you boys going to stand there fuckin' gawking all night or do you want to deal with the bastards we have taped up in the office?" Connor asked.
---
"Go on, boys." Duffy said, gesturing towards the door. "Get outta here before the uniforms show up."
"Thanks guys." Murphy said, proffering a hand which Duffy shook.
"We really appreciate it." Connor said, extending his hand to Dolly.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Dolly said, grinning. "Get the fuck out of here."
So they went.
As they headed in the direction Duffy had said Greenly's apartment was, Murphy reflected on just how lucky they had been that night. If Connor hadn't showed up when he did…If they hadn't been able to get in touch with Dolly and Duffy…If someone had wandered out of the theatre at the wrong moment…
Too many fucking 'If's'.
He groped around in his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter. Finally locating both, he pulled out two cigarettes, lit them simultaneously with the ease of long habit and handed one to Connor.
Connor took a long drag and, as if he were reading Murphy's mind, said, "That was too fuckin' close."
"Aye. It was." Running a hand through his dark hair, Murphy asked, "When did we get so fuckin' careless?"
"Dunno. Never again, though." Connor said, in a shaky voice. Murphy felt his brother's hand squeeze the back of his neck, as though Connor were trying to reassure himself that his twin was okay.
"Never again." He agreed.
They walked the next two blocks in silence. Murphy was still rolling the 'ifs' around in his head, when he realized where they were. The stone facade of the church loomed overhead, welcoming despite its cold exterior.
Reaching out, he caught Connor by the elbow. "Let's go in."
"Murph, we need to get Luciana." Connor sighed. "It's late. We can come tomorrow."
Refusing to be dissuaded, Murphy shook his head. "We'll just be a minute."
Murphy knew that Connor needed this as much as he did. Prayer had always been a calming influence in their turbulent lives. When they were boys, their mother claimed that the only time they were still was in church. When they had first come to the United States, prayer had eased their homesickness. When they finished a hit, talking to God eased the burden of guilt that accompanied the taking of human lives, even evil ones.
Now, a friend, someone they cared for, had seen them as they were and shied away in horror. They had known that people would judge their actions and they had deliberately kept the circle of people who knew them as Saints small. No one who knew was a true innocent, until Luciana. She had seen and she was terrified. That burden was weighing heavily on Murphy's soul and he could feel the tension pouring from his twin, as well.
They needed this. He met Connor's eyes, and, after a short battle of wills that played out in silent stillness, they entered the church.
---
Luciana sat on the ugly floral couch and sipped the beer that Greenly had apologetically given her.
"It's this or water." He had said, blushing slightly. "I, uh, need to go shopping."
The cramped apartment was the definition of a bachelor pad. Mismatched furniture, that appeared to have once belonged to someone's grandmother, was placed haphazardly around the tiny living room. A few dog-eared posters had been taped to the walls, in an unsuccessful attempt to hide the peeling paint.
Two of the posters were so stereotypical that she had to smile; Platoon had made the cut, as had Pulp Fiction. The third poster was the one that caught her interest. It was a shot of Bob Marley, dreadlocks flying, singing his heart out. Definitely not what one would expect from a twenty-something cop that was as straight-laced as Greenly appeared to be. She made a mental note to ask him about that particular choice later.
Greenly was banging around in his cramped galley kitchen attempting to make popcorn. For some reason, he thought he needed to feed her dinner, even though it was almost three in the morning. And apparently the only thing he had in the house that he felt able to serve her was popcorn.
She didn't have the heart to tell him she had eaten popcorn for dinner at the theatre.
The poor guy had been so nervous when they got to his apartment. She had politely pretended not to notice the Playboy magazine he had grabbed off the couch under the pretext of clearing her off a spot, his face resembling a ripe tomato. In her efforts to put him at ease, she had almost forgotten why she was there. Now, sitting in the empty living room, it came rushing back to her like a fist to the face.
She had known from the beginning who the MacManus brothers were and what they did. They were vigilantes, killers, Saints. Titles didn't matter when it was just an abstract idea. When the reality of it hit her in the face along with droplets of her would-be assailant's blood, it had been more than she was ready to face.
The hard look in Murphy's eyes before they had commenced with the ass-kicking had been disturbingly familiar. She had seen that look in Vic's eyes, and it had never been accompanied by anything good. She had learned pain and suffering at Vic's hands when he had that look. She couldn't seem to reconcile the playful, sensitive, movie-quoting Connor and Murphy with the hard, deadly efficient men she had seen in the theatre.
The 'pop, pop, pop' sound coming from the kitchen caused her to jump. Taking another sip of her beer, she noticed a smattering of tiny red dots on her hands and arms. The realization of what those drops were made her stomach turn. Standing quickly, she headed to the kitchen.
"Can I use your bathroom?" She asked him, trying not to grimace as the smell of burnt popcorn assailed her nose.
"Uh, yeah, just, uh, hang on a sec." The words came out in a rush and he headed down the hall. She heard the banging of cupboard doors and then he was back. "It's just, uh, down there." He said, gesturing weakly towards the end of the hall.
She turned the hot water knob on and waited for the telltale wisps of steam to rise from the faucet. Grabbing the bar of soap from the counter, she worked it into a lather and began scrubbing her hands and arms. As she worked, she wondered how many times she had stood in front of the sink watching crimson-tinged water swirl down the drain. Too many times, she thought and plunged her hands under the steaming hot water.
By the time she finished, the combination of scalding water and scrubbing had taken its toll, turning her hands an angry shade of red. She looked around the bathroom in search of a towel, but settled for wiping her dripping hands on her jeans when she spotted the only towel in sight wadded up on the floor.
When she walked back into the living room, she saw Greenly sitting on the couch looking sheepish.
"I ruined the popcorn." He said. "Do you want me to order a pizza or something?"
"No thanks. I'm really not hungry at all." Trying to stifle a yawn, she added, "I'm more tired than anything."
"That happens sometimes. All the adrenaline hypes you up, but after the action your body kind of crashes." Greenly said. "You'll feel better after you've had some sleep."
She nodded, taking another swallow of beer.
"Are you hurt at all?" he asked, after a moment.
"I'm fine." She said tersely. Then, realizing how harsh she had sounded, she added, "They were just so scary."
"Well, you don't have anything to worry about now." He said, smiling. "They should be enjoying an all expense paid trip to Cedar Junction for the next few years."
It took a minute for his words to sink in, but when they did, she chuckled. "Not the junkies. Don't get me wrong, I was scared to death when that creep pulled a knife on me. But I was talking about Connor and Murphy."
Greenly's eyes widened in understanding. "Yeah, they can be pretty intense." He paused, taking a long swig from his beer. "What they do is necessary and important, but there is something otherworldly about them when they are working."
"So you've seen them in action?" She asked, curiosity aroused.
"When they pulled the hit on Papa Joe, we, that is Duffy, Dolly and I, helped them. It took the three of us and Smecker to get them into the courthouse undetected." Greenly sat up a little straighter as he spoke, his pride showing.
"I know what you mean though, about them being scary." He gave an involuntary shudder. "It's their eyes. When they are on a mission, I would hate to be in their way.
Don't let it freak you out. There aren't a lot of people in their lives that know about what they do. They need all the support they can get."
Luciana was surprised to hear the concern in his voice, and, choosing not to respond to what he had said, she asked, "Greenly, what's your first name?"
He looked taken aback by her question. The ever-present blush put in another appearance on his cheeks as he said, "Brian. Why?"
"Well, Brian." She said, "I don't like calling my friends by their last names."