Usual Disclaimer here:

Murph POV

Ericka's unofficial diagnosis had been right- dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist- Which meant that Connor was out for a few weeks. "No fighting, no gun slinging, no drinking." Ericka had ordered as she cleaned up the cuts on his face.

I wandered around the hospital as I waited for Connor's wristed to be casted. I had run out of cigarettes, and I was nic-fitting something fierce as I racked my brain for a plan- because we needed one ASAP. I wasn't concerned about the kids from the diner- after giving Greenley our statements, he said we were cleared. "You two were just good Samaritans that kicked some ass. No worries, we'll keep this outta the press." He had reassured us.

I stood in front of a glass window, looking in at patients lying in their beds. Most of them were hooked up to machines- my guess was that I had somehow found the ICU. I wondered if Maria was in there, comatose with tubes and wires stuck in her. I sighed and leaned into the frame of the window, resting my head on the glass as I fought the lump in my throat.

I knew Connor was right- despite that fact that we dove into the situation headfirst and blind, we had kept Jose and Maria alive. But I couldn't get the image of Maria out of my head. I could still see her bleeding onto the pavement; practically feel her limp and broken body in my arms. I wasn't sure why it disturbed me as much as it did- I was in the business of death after all, and I had delivered several sinners to their maker. But that was the principle of the whole thing- Maria was an innocent girl who had seen hell at a young age- no one deserved that.

Maria was no sinner, but Otets sure as hell was. I dug my nails deep into my palms. I wanted him dead- and I wanted to be the one who the bullet in the fucker's skull. Unfortunately, Connor and I had very little to go on. All we knew about the guy was that he was Russian, he exploited immigrant kids and sold drugs, and he hung out at a place he referred to as the 'longue.'

There's no way we're gonna get this guy. I let out a groan of frustration and rubbed my eyes.

"The fuck is wrong with you, man?" I looked up and saw Jose standing next to me, his eyes staring into the dimly lit room. I didn't have an answer for him- Maria wasn't my sister, she wasn't anything to me- but for some reason, the whole thing was really fucking with my head. I cleared my throat in attempt to speak, but I still came up short on words.

"She's in a coma." Jose spoke, filling the silence and answering my unvoiced questions. "It's a medicine induced one, so her body will heal quicker. She should be able to wake up in about a couple days. What the doctors said anyway." He sounded absolutely drained. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders. "Saw you come in earlier when I was outside smoking. What are you doing here?"

I had to clear my throat again before I could speak. "Brother and I got into a fight with some people. He took a beating, but he'll be alright."

"Is that like your guy's thing? Getting into fights and killing people?" He asked bluntly. I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering where his sudden audacity came from.

"Yeah. Something like that." I muttered.

Quiet fell between us. "You guys got names?" he asked.

"He's Connor. I'm Murphy." Jose nodded to himself and looked back into the room.

"You want to see her, don't you?" he said suddenly. I was slightly taken aback-the kid had a lot of balls being so nosey. Jose smiled faintly. "Why else would you be here? Go ahead. She's the third bed down." I was slow to react but eventually pushed off the wall and walked into the room. It gave me the creeps- the place was silent, aside from the soft beeping from the machines. I cautiously walked over to Maria and sat in the plastic chair next to her bed.

She was hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV, but apparently she could breathe on her own. There were blue and yellow bruises dotting her face and arms. The knuckles of her hands were scraped up- she had put up a real fight. To my surprise, she didn't look in pain- on the contrary, she looked peaceful. I don't know how long I sat there and just watched her breathe. Jose came in at some point and pulled up a chair next to me, observing us. I leaned forward and intertwined my fingers with Maria's tiny ones, wondering if she would know I had been there. The tattoo on my trigger finger stood out- Aequitas.

Justice.

If I had any doubt about what Connor and I did, it was gone in that moment. This was the reason I killed evil men. This is what God intended for us all along, and I'd be damned if I was going to ignore our calling.

Destroy all that which is evil so that which is good may flourish.

"Jose." I said softly, as if I could wake the drugged up girl in bed. I looked him dead in the eyes as I spoke, still holding Maria's hand. "I won't rest until he's dead."

Jose fixed me with a stare equal in intensity to the one I gave him. "And neither will I."

Ericka POV

It took forever to get Connor out of the ER. As soon as Murph had left, the head nurse popped her head into the exam room, demanding that I was to "Stop flirting with my patient" and help patch up the other people in the ER. Two hours later, I finally managed to make it back to Connor, who was all sorts of pissed off, still waiting to get medical treatment. Murph came back as I started to pull the pieces of broken glass out of Connor's face. He looked just as irritated that Connor was stuck waiting. Waiting had become second nature to me- It was something I had become used to, seeing as how the ER I worked in was both incredibly understaffed and most of the staff we had were incompetent idiots to begin with.

"Why can't they do something for him now?" Murph had asked, pacing the room.

I cocked my head at him. "Because a person who has had a fork stuck in their stomach is more likely to bleed out and die as opposed to a person with a broken arm and a dislocated shoulder and therefore requires medical attention in a much more timely manner, that's why."

Connor shrugged his uninjured shoulder. "She's got a point."

Murph made a face. "Could at least put your shoulder back in place. We've done that ourselves, what, 'bout a hundred times?" It was Connor's turn to make a face. He sighed and nodded reluctantly.

"Aye. Let's fuckin' get it over with." I stepped out of the way and let them do the work- they apparently knew what they were doing. After a few seconds, the sound of bone on bone and a slew of curses in a variety of languages greeted my ears. I looked back at the twins- Connor tested out his shoulder, winced, and nodded to Murph. "Hurts every fucking time." He commented. Murph gave a sympathetic grimace and ran a hand through his shaggy hair.

"I need a smoke after that." He shuddered and walked out of the room hurriedly. I raised an eyebrow at Murphy's out of character reaction. Connor chuckled. "He's fine. He's just worried."

"Never struck me as the 'worry' type."

"Then you haven't been around him long enough. Wait until you catch a cold- he'll be cramming every cold pill and vitamin he can find down your throat." I laughed as a doctor finally came into the room to cast Connor's wrist. It was another hour and half before we were able to leave the hospital. Murph had disappeared, a fact that concerned me but Connor shrugged off his absence with a knowing look. "He can take care of himself. He'll turn up."

We walked through the automatic sliding doors of the lobby and were greeted by sheets of cold rain.

"Holy shit!" I gasped, already drenched.

"My place or yours?" yelled Connor.

"Mine! It's closer!" I bellowed back.

He grabbed my hand and started to run in the direction of my apartment. We ran through the puddles as we crossed the streets, avoiding the cars that were trying to maneuver through downpour.

"Since when the fuck does it rain in December?" I shouted to no one in particular. Connor turned sharply into quite possibly the creepiest alleyway in all of south Boston, dragging me with him. "What in the hell?" I screamed at him. I wasn't afraid of him per say- I was more afraid of breaking the cardinal rule for every female living in a big city- Never, under any circumstance go into an alleyway late at night.

It's like in those movies- guy and girl enter alley- enter deranged serial killer- slashing and hacking take place. I was about to lose it on Connor.

"I do NOT like this shit! Let go of me!"

My further protests were cut off as he pushed me-one- handed nonetheless- into a brick wall and kissed me- hard. I stopped fighting instantly and kissed back, grabbing tight to the front of his coat and pulling him as close to me as I could. My knees grew weak and heat rushed up to my cheeks. He broke the kiss first; He pulled away suddenly and I found myself gasping for air and grasping for the last remnants of my sanity. "Breath, aingeal." He whispered, though I noted the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

"What was- what the-"

"Ever hear of taking shortcuts?" His eyes glinted mischievously. I was fuming- and he knew it too. "Sorry, love. Wanted to see if it was like the movies." His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as he smiled down at me. Whatever ill-will I had towards him at that moment vanished- he was so damn cute.

This man wasn't a killer. He didn't have blood on his hands, and he wasn't on some mission from God- In that moment he was simply a rain soaked, twenty seven year old man with a love for film and the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen.

The rational, logical, and smarter side of my brain screamed at me- it was absurd, it was stupid, it was ridiculous that one man could make such an utter mess out of me- but the overly emotional, sentimental, and dreamy side of me apparently sucker-punched it's logical counterpart and told it to promptly sit back and shut the fuck up.

"Kiss me again. Please." My voice came out meek and pathetic sounding, but I didn't care- I needed to feel his lips on mine, to confirm that I had indeed lost it and was imagining the butterflies in my stomach and the warmth flooding my body. Connor brushed a strand of hair out of face; I closed my eyes as his fingertips traced over my cheekbones, nose, lips- I opened my eyes as he wound his hand into my hair and saw him staring intently at me. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to forget your face." He spoke softly, trying to explain himself- not that he needed to. He walked on water for me. After a moment, he slowly leaned into me and kissed me as softly as he had spoken. My head spun pleasantly. The world stopped for me- heaven and hell could have been at war with one another and I wouldn't have noticed.

We broke apart; I noticed the rain hadn't let up any. I looked around nonchalantly, finally composed. "So, care to show me where this shortcut of yours leads?"

He took my hand in his and started to pull me along, a stupid grin plastered onto his face. "Gladly."

Yay, lighthearted ending! We haven't had one of those in a while! Now, click the 'review' button and leave some feedback- C'mon now! I know you want to! :)