Chapter 7: Affairs of a Drunk Head and a Sober Heart.

When we had finished draining our emotions, we went about cleaning and re-bandaging Connor's wounds. The skin around them had started bruising, turning black and deep shades of green and purple. We prayed quietly next to him when we had finished. I prayed harder than I had in my entire life, harder than when Rocco had died, or when Murphy had gotten pneumonia when he was 17 and almost died, harder than anything I could ever remember.

God, I'm not sure what ya thinka all of this killin business we're doin, but I swear ta ya that if ya let him live, I'll do whatever I 'ave ta ta make sure this ends. I need him Lord. Ya know I do. He's not just my friend, he's a part 'o my 'eart and I dunno if I'm ready to lose him. Just spare him and I'll do whatever ya want me ta. Amen

We both left the room, knowing there wasn't else we could really do but wait. I sat at the table in the living room as Murphy disappeared into the cramped kitchen and reappeared with a bottle of whiskey, a small smirk on his face.

"Nothin' else ta really do, right?" I smiled for the first time in almost 2 days.

"I love you more an more everyday Murph."

We drank, talking mostly of anything but Connor. We reminisced about Ireland, about old friends, old fights and old lovers we hadn't seen or thought of in years, trying to ease the tension for as long as possible. Murphy suddenly looked at me, a spark back in his eyes.

"Ya know he's in love with ya." He said quietly. I looked up from pouring myself a shot, dumbfounded.

"Oh fuck off Murph. Yer full of shit an you know it." I said, downing the shot and lighting myself a smoke.

"You fuck off. I'm not jokin'. He's crazy about ya." He said, now drinking straight from the bottle.I was quiet for a few mintues, trying to process it. Connor…in love with me? No way. It couldn't be possible, though, for some reason, the thought of it elated me and I didn't know why.

"We'll see about tha now. Just you wait til he's awake. He'll kick your arse fer sayin' that." I joked and Murphy smiled. It eased my heart to see that smile back on his face. Things seemed to be going alright, given the grim situation.

"At least Connor can hold his liquor, yer the one that puked all over Seamus McGavin at Marleen O'Sullivan's party when we were 17!" He howled as I grabbed the bottle from him, taking a long drink. I felt the whiskey sail down my throat, warming my insides with the deep burn I loved so much. I took a drag of my cigarette and laughed with Murphy.

"Oh yeah? Well, yer tha one who got caught makin out with that girl who turned out ta be a man! Thought we'd all forgotten about that one didn't ya?" I retorted and it continued that way for the better part of an hour.

When the bottle was done, I made food for Murph and went to check on Connor while he ate. I sat quietly by the bed, checking his breathing and his pulse. They both were strong and that was a good sign. Unable to help myself, I nestled myself alongside him, just listening to him breathe. I watched him as I ran my fingers through his hair, thinking of what Murphy had said earlier. Could he be in love with me? I tried to think back for an instance it might have shown. I mean, when we were younger all his girlfriends did get jealous of our relationship and he had asked me to Prom, but did that really mean he was in love with me? And why did that thought make me so happy? Had I secretly always loved him back? I looked at him again, sighing.

"Ya gotta wake up Conner. We need ya. I need ya. Ya can't just back out now, Noccie. Yer stronger than that and ya know it." I whispered, pressing my face against his neck. His scent overwhelmed me and I was lost in memories of him. I could remember his smile, sly and scheming. Or the way he always knew just what to say to make it better. I felt so lost without him. My heart jumped as I recalled a particularly hazy evening from last year:

Murphy, Connor and I had just come back from McGinty's after a fun filled evening of heavy drinking. We had stumbled up the steps, most of which Connor and I had had to drag Murphy up since he was too drunk to say his name, let alone walk...I told him those extra shots were a bad idea. We'd finally made it to our grungy loft and put him on the couch, where he drunkenly rambled and laughed to himself.

"He's completely cocked!" Connor said, chuckling as we watched Murphy sing to himself.

"Aye. that he is. Are ya hungry? I think some food'll do tha boy some good." I said as I rose from the table. I noticed that Connor was talking a little slurred and that everything spun if I turned my head too quickly.

"I'm fuckin starving! Ya don't have ta cook fer us though, Deenie. Ya ain't Ma." He said empathetically as I waved a hand.

"Nonsense, Murph needs ta eat something. Ya probably should eat too, ya haven't all day really." I argued as I started the stove and began to look for something to make, settling on grilled cheese.

I heard Connor open two beers as he stood. I turned to face him as he handed me a beer. I leaned into him, my head fitting perfectly on his shoulder. We started swaying and he pressed his lips to my ear.

"Ya know, yer gonna make a man insanely happy one day." he said softly. I smiled into him, my heart swelling. We looked at each other and there was something different between us. Just as I opened my mouth to say something, Murphy interrupted.

"AY! Ay yewww guysssss. Lookitthissss! Loooooooookkkkk" he said, clearly amused with something strange he had found in our couch. Connor and I laughed, slightly awkwardly as I began to make food for the drunken, lovable fool.

I gasped as I looked back at Connor, now motionless next to me. How could I have forgotten that? But, that was a year ago, if not more. I'd seen the way girls looked at the boys. They were handsome, after all. And something about Irishmen drove American girls crazy. They practically threw themselves at my boys, which I always found so distasteful. Is that why I'd always gotten so jealous when Connor had talked to girls? In my mind, it was just because we were all so close. I'd always thought no girl was ever good enough for him, and Murph. But it was always different with Connor. I was so confused now. My head was telling me it wasn't true, that it couldn't be, that Murph was just drunk and talking shit; but you can't hide things like this from your heart. Connor's breathing shifted me out of my head and I found that I'd wrapped my arms around him tightly, like he was my teddy bear. Gently, I kissed his forehead and got up, not wanting to think about this when I was drunk. No, things like this were better left to a sober mind.