Disclaimer- yada ya ya.

AN- For those who got around to reading "Incurable"...finally conquered the writer's block! =) And there isn't a whole lot of action in this chapter... but NEXT CHAPTER... there will be blood. **evil laugh** Don't forget to review!

Ericka POV

I never thought I would die like that.

Lying there in Papa Joe's house, it all seemed so hopeless. I had shot Vito right between the eyes and started running through the house, looking for the boys, desperate to find them. In the middle of scanning rooms, I collided with a balding man who was wearing a gaudy gold ring. He elbowed me in hard in the stomach, pushing me hard into the wall. "Out of my way, puttana." He snarled as he hustled out of the house. I had a clear shot, I could have got him, but the pain in my stomach was agonizing. Like a million sharp needles were tearing at my insides.

The adrenaline rush ended as I got up and staggered down the hall. I heard shouts and yelling and a couple gunshots. My head swam and I fought the urge to totally lose my head- even though it seemed like the proper response to everything. Thoughts came at random. Can't fucking think. Boys. Must find them.

I lost my balance and swerved into a door. It opened and yet again I fell to the floor. I crawled out of direct sight. Everything hurt. Couldn't stop shivering because I was so cold. Or maybe I was hot. I couldn't tell the difference. My head hurt like hell.

Was the wine poisoned? Fuck. Where are they? I need to find Connor…. Murph…

"Ericka! ERICKA!" Shouts and loud footsteps came from the hallway. I know that voice…

Somehow, I managed to get off the floor and walk in a miraculously straight line to the hallway. Connor and Murphy and two other people I didn't recognize were running down the hall. "Boys?" I called out.

Connor ran towards me and pulled me into a hug. "The fuck are you doing here?" he asked. I wanted to hold onto him. Really, I did. But I could smell the blood and sweat coating him. It was overpowering, like a reminder of how close to death they had been. I couldn't stand it. "You were here." I pulled away, desperate to get away from the stench.

"I heard it through the vents in the bathroom… Roc's dead, I know. He was a good man." I wanted them to know that I knew what happened, that I was trying to get to them. It was imperative they understood that. I felt my body trembling.

Murphy pulled me into a rough hug. "You're fucking stupid sometimes, know that?" I didn't miss the way his voice caught as he spoke; the words 'know that' had a higher pitch to them. My senses were a jumbled mess, things standing out at random to me. I couldn't focus.

The old man cleared his throat. "We need to leave." His shades slipped down his nose. I caught a small glimpse of his eyes- blue and deep, like the ocean. I had seen them before.

"Yes, Da." I said, my head feeling light. They stared at me. "How did you know-" Connor asked.

"Got your eyes." I turned to walk away from the scene, to put it all behind me.

Something happened- like someone had snuffed a candle or hit me over the head. The pain that had been off and on all night overcame me and I felt myself crumpling to the ground. I heard frantic voices and felt myself being carried.

Felt cold air on my skin.

Heard someone say, "No, no, I can't just leave…"

Felt motion.

Felt nothing.

I opened my eyes and found myself in a dimly lit room. Murphy had a hold of my hand and his rosary. He was whispering in a language I didn't know. Prayer. I watched him as left myself get a grip. He looked so serious. It was strange, considering how playful he was.

There was something in my throat. I could feel it. Vaguely, I recognized my surroundings. Hospital. Right. I work in one of those.

I flexed my fingers and Murphy looked up in alarm. His face broke into a relieved grin, all seriousness gone from his face. "Nice to see you've made it back to the realm of the living." And then he was up and moving. "Nurse! Hey! Annie! She's awake!"

Things happened fast from there. Or maybe I was in and out. I couldn't tell. I was moved from a room with several beds to another, more private one. The tubes were removed and apparently I was A-OK and alive. Strange concept. Life.

I glanced at the people around my bed. Murphy, Annie, a man with a snarky face- who I later learned to be Smecker- and a doctor. Someone was missing. "Where's Connor?" I coughed, throat dry like a desert.

"He left." Said Murphy simply, like it was the most logical thing in the world. Left means gone. I felt a wave of panic hit me and I tried sitting up.

"Left?" I asked as Annie pushed me back down.

Murph looked flustered. "Left, like not left left. He just went to grab a shower and-"

"Left?" I asked again, not believing him. Murph got the message. "Someone page Connor, find out where the fuck he is. She's not gonna believe me until she sees him with her own eyes." Murphy knew me well, though the look on his face was nothing short of exasperated. I felt bad; Murphy wouldn't lie to me. Well. Yes, he would- he was the one that drugged me. But why the hell isn't Connor here?

Murphy took a hold of my hand, somehow knowing what I was thinking. "Connor is going to be all sorts of upset that he wasn't here. It'd the first time he's been away from you in three days." He smirked down at me. "Figures you would wake up without him here, ya jerk."

I smiled back weakly, settling into my pillow and trying hard to wait patiently. Maybe it took five minutes, maybe it was another hour- it felt like forever, so I really have no idea how long it actually was- but Connor walked into the room, led by Smecker. Murphy grabbed him by the shirt and all but shoved him to my bed. "He's here, I told you he didn't leave."

Connor looked shocked, like he had seen a ghost. "I thought you were…" his voice trailed off as he stared at me, tears streaming down his face. "You really think I would die that easy? You could only get so lucky." I reached out to him, just wanting him to stop with the uncharacteristic outpouring of emotion, just wanting things to go back to normal.

But normal wasn't in the cards for any of us. Normal would be too simple.

The next few weeks were hard on all of us. Rocco's death was put in the paper, along with the rest of the dead bodies found in Papa Joe's house. Thankfully, Rocco was cleared of any crimes or any possible relation to the Saints- at least his memory would be untarnished. Connor and Murphy looked as if they carried the weight of the world on their shoulders; the guilt was practically visible on them. They were both quiet that day.

The doctors who treated me put me through test after test, making sure I wasn't going to keel over and die. The meningitis diagnosis somehow didn't surprise me- the symptoms should have tipped me off. What did surprise me was when I found out I had been pregnant with twins.

Murphy had been the bearer of bad news. I guess everyone else knew about it, choosing to leave Connor and I in the dark. Or at least that was the impression I got. Connor was hit pretty hard by the news, though he put up a stone front, lapsing into silence for a few days. He never once said that he was sad or angry or anything. Then again, he didn't need to say it. I knew- We all knew he was nothing short of devastated.

In all honesty, I felt guilty for not feeling as sad as I should have been. Don't get me wrong. I was upset at first when I first found out. Upset was an understatement. Angry. Livid. Furious that Papa Joe took two more lives aside from Rocco's that night. The sick thing was that he would never feel remorse for his actions- not until he was on his knees with a gun to his head.

But sad wasn't an emotion to show up on my radar. Did I want my kids to grow up with their entire family being killers? Did I want them to be familiar with guns and bullets, knives and rope? I didn't want any child to be exposed to that, much less my own flesh and blood. I prayed to God that he would be kind to the souls of my unknown babies, that he would give us a second chance in the future.

We deserved that much.

I lied in the uncomfortable hospital bed, counting the tiles on the ceiling for the millionth time. Doctors told me I had made a miraculous recovery and was able to leave in morning- after nearly three weeks of being poked and prodded and ogled at night and day, I was more than ready to go home. With that good bit of news, I forced Connor and Murphy to go out for the night.

"Guys. Get out of here. Go do something." I said, breaking the sleepy silence. Connor looked up from the TV, remote lying idly in his lap. Murphy raised an eyebrow at me from across the room, waving a hand at me. "Like….."

"Like go down to McGinty's and grab a beer. Go sleep. Go set something on fire- Something, anything. Just get the hell out of the hospital for a while." Connor opened his mouth to protest. "No." I said firmly, poking a finger into his chest. "Y'all look like zombies right now. Seriously. This whole moping around thing has got to go. Rocco would kill you guys. Hell, I want to kill you guys right now- you don't have to be here all the time. I'm not going to die." I aimed that last sentence at Connor, who had been almost intolerable with how much he had been around. At least Murphy would leave the room every once in a while. "Getting out this place will do you some good."

Connor's mouth quirked upward into the first semblance of a smile he had worn in weeks. "You can't make us leave."

I felt my own mouth form a smirk. "Oh yes I can. Oi! Annie! Get in here!" I shouted. Annie, who had been conveniently walking by. peered into the room with irritated eyes.

"Ericka, as much as I love you guys, I don't have the desire to debate who the best James Bond was, I'm on my way out of here right now and-" I cut her off.

"Can you do me a favor and take them out tonight?" I asked, gesturing to the boys. "They're a little too lifeless for my liking."

Annie's irritation vanished immediately, breaking into a wicked grin. "Oh, sug, I would love to." Her eyes lingered on Murphy, whose own gaze darkened considerably. Awkward silence fell over us as they made lovey-dovey eyes at each other. Connor cleared his throat suggestively, a Cheshire cat grin lighting up his face.

"Say, Murph. When'd you become such a girlie girl?"

Murphy took the bait and pounced. Immediately they were brawling on the floor, spitting out insults in random languages. Annie cocked her head to the side. "Did we miss something?"

I shrugged, watching Connor fight his way out of a headlock. "Probably. I dunno. This is pretty common for them."

"Right…." Annie shook her head at them. "Whenever you two are done beating the shit out of each other, we'll go." They stopped fighting and straightened up at once. Murph grabbed his coat of a chair and crossed the room, pecking me on the cheek. "I swear to God if you leave this bed I'll murder ya myself." He threatened. I rolled my eyes at him as he backed out of the room, mock glaring at me.

Connor looked a little hesitant. "Are ya sure you'll be alright, love? I don't want to-"

"I'll be fine, Connor." I gave him a sharp look. "Go out and have some fun, alright? Shit's been rough for all of us, you guys deserve a night to relax."

"But-"

"Nope. No buts. Go. I'll see you later, I swear I'm not going anywhere."

I locked eyes with him, staring him down the way a hunter stares down it's prey. He finally caved, like I knew he would. "Alright, alright. Promise you'll get some rest, aingeal. For me?"

I smiled up at him. "Of course." He kissed me and walked out of the room, still looking unsure. I grinned to myself as I heard Murph's rambunctious voice from down the hall. Something told me between his brother and Annie, Connor was going to have one hell of a night.

There was a knock on the door a couple hours later. "Come in?" I said, glancing up at the clock. It was awfully late for someone to randomly come visit me. The door opened slowly and in walked Da MacManus.

"Hey, Da." I greeted, feeling immediately secure around the old man; He had the same sort of vibe that Connor carried.

"Hi, Ericka." He took his time coming in, shutting the door and sitting down in the chair by my bed. We sat in silence, watching the tv, neither of us saying anything.

"What brings you by here?" I asked after a some time had passed. "I assume this isn't a social call, or else you would've come by when the boys were here."

He nodded at me. "Yes, m'dear, you're quite right." He sighed and rubbed his eyes; the back of his hand had a tattoo of a butterfly. Apparently an eye for good ink ran in the family. "I want to offer some advice from an old man, if you're willing to listen."

I gestured for him to continue. He sat back in his chair and his face looked thoughtful behind the grey beard. "There was a man I knew who shared the same line of work. He got started in it early in life, out of bad circumstances, and it stuck with him. He had a double life, killing people on the side for money. Eventually, he met a woman and fell in love with her."

His eyes were distant. I got the distinct feeling this story was his own, though I wasn't about to call him out on it. If he didn't want to tell me outright, I figured there was a reason for it. "They married, and she got pregnant. They were….overjoyed. But he was set up right before his sons were born, sold out by the people he worked for, and thrown in jail. As a result, his wife was forced to raise two children on her own. He never got the chance to see her again- she died, very ill and alone."

I furrowed my brow at the old man. "So….what's the moral of that story?"I asked bluntly. When he didn't respond, I tried again. "What are you trying to get at, Noah?"

"Ericka, his wife lived a very thankless and lonely life. She gave up everything for him, even after she found out that he killed people. She loved him. They loved each other. But love isn't enough to save you or enough to even live for. It's fleeting and it can be found in other places, other people, you understand? It's not worth sacrificing everything for."

"I'm not sacrificing anything!" I glared at him, jaw and fists clenched tight.

"Oh really? What about your career? Your own dreams?"

"I can have a career anywhere! Dreams change-"

"What about your two unborn children? What would you call that?" he spat voice harsh. "If that's not a sacrifice, then I don't know what is." He had winged me; I had no response to that. He continued his onslaught. "The boys aren't going to stop. You know that. Even if they want to, they don't have a choice. It's for God to decide. They're working for something greater then themselves-"

"Sir, they have a choice." I glared at him, tears filling my eyes. "My brother had a choice when he gave up his life for a greater cause. I have a choice in being with Connor. I know that God does not take away free will because he certainly has not stripped it away from any of us!"

We remained in a stare down, neither one wanting to break.

"Erm, I'm not interrupting something am I?" We looked over to the door to find Connor standing in the doorway. He looked more confused than anything else, arms folded across his chest.

"No. No, I think we're finished here." I said, weighting my words so Da knew exactly what I meant. No more talk of this absurd idea. I'm not leaving them.

Da nodded once and stood up. As he went to leave the room he put a gloved hand on Connor's shoulder and squeezed, walking away silent. Connor raised an eyebrow at me. "What was he doing here?"

"Nothing." I lied. "Just making sure everything is okay." He gave me a searching look. Damn him and his fucking intuition.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe, face blank. I groaned, already regretting what I was about to tell him.

"Your Da came by to try and convince me to leave you." I wouldn't look at him. I didn't need to see the contemplative look his face, top watch him consider the possibility that maybe he didn't need me as much as he had thought. I felt an ache in my chest. This is it….

"And…. Are you going to?" his voice was quiet, hollow. I looked back at up him. He kept his gaze fixed on the linoleum floor. "I understand if you want to. I won't try and make you stay."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You seriously think that after all of the shit we have been through since we met each other that I would want to just give up now? There's light at the end of the goddamned tunnel. I'm not leaving, not now. Not ever. Got it?"

Connor slowly looked at me and then gave me a weary smile. "Crystal clear."

He sat down on the bed next to me, silent for a while. I snuggled up next to him, enjoying the warmth of his body. "What the hell are you watching?" he squinted at the TV, suddenly focused. A furious battle was taking place in a courtroom, the two lawyers screaming at each other. It didn't look that interesting.

"Something lame." I said, grabbing the remote and changing the channel. "Joesph Yakevetta has been arrested once again, this time on a murder charge. He is to appear in court on…."

Something flashed through my head. "Where's Murphy? I asked suddenly. He did a double take from the TV to me, trying to figure out how the two thoughts were connected. "He's still at the bar with Annie. Why?"

"I have an idea…."