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Was it real? She must've dreamt it all. There was just no other way to explain the last few hours, and Quinn found herself seriously contemplating if she had lost her mind. Somehow she had drifted back to her bedroom and shut off the screaming alarm clock. The emptiness and silence in her apartment was deafening, and she looked around, taking it all in, seeing if anything had changed since her brother had rose from the dead and walked right in, then walked right back out.
They'll be here later today.
Who were they? What were they even like? Where would they stay? She had one spare room, a source of endless bickering with her mother ("Why the hell do you even pay extra for a two bedroom, you don't even need it!") If only she could tell her mother now. Sometimes your formerly dead brother needs to drop off two vigilante killers on you, so it's good to have a guest room.
With a sigh she checked the clock as she scribbled a note with directions to Jude's farm. She knew it would be a long day when she was exhausted before leaving the house. Ten minutes to get to work. That was fine, she was working at the farm today. Her boss, Jude, would be at the track with the other horses so she wouldn't have to explain why she was late. Thank God, because Jude was terrifying, and because if she told him the real reason, he'd probably fire her under the assumption she was on crack. Actually, crack sounded quite reasonable in comparison to everything that had just happened.
Jude Patterson was retired FBI. Tall, graying, with piercing blue eyes and a chain smoker, he was one of the most terrifying people she had ever met. Two years ago he had hired her as a groom for his successful Thoroughbred racing stable, a dream come true for Quinn, a pre-vet major drop out (yet another source of complaint from her mother). He barely spoke and wasn't known for his way with people, but over the years he had come to respect Quinn's work ethic, and had allowed her to work at the farm helping train the yearlings and take care of the broodmares.
If there was one place she loved more than the track, it was Jude's farm. The driveway split half way up the hill, one turning right to the garage and two story farmhouse, the other continuing past it to the barn, a white wooden fence running alongside. Dogs and cats scattered out of the way of her truck as she parked it in front of the stable, its two sliding doors open as if in welcome. Once out of the truck it was a struggle to make a straight path through the three wiggling dogs that were circling around her legs, frantically begging for attention.
"Boys, boys! Settle down!" She laughed, scratching behind ears and patting furry sides as she attempted to work her way to the barn. Behind the white fences, a whole herd of horses shook their heads and whinnied a greeting, impatient to be fussed over. A few of the younger ones kicked up their heels and raced across the pasture, turning on their well muscled haunches to speed back to the barn, full of youthful energy. Quinn admired the view a moment longer, the lush green pastures dotted with colorful shining horses… She had her brother back, and no matter how tired she was, it was a beautiful day.
.xxxx.
Connor and Murphy were exhausted. Not just the didn't-get-to-bed-early exhausted, but completely fucking drained. After the fire fight, after they lost their Da, they couldn't seem to sleep enough. They were hurt. Connor knew it too, knew it hurt Murphy a lot. The younger brother was sleeping fitfully even now, head on Connor's shoulder in the backseat of Smecker's car. Smecker had picked them up, whisked them away before the cops showed up to the Roman's sprawling garden, now a graveyard… where their father died. Dropped them off at some shit motel and left them there for a week, showing up once a day or so to drop off food or cigarettes and reissue the command to not go anywhere. Not that they cared. They didn't want to go anywhere. Hell, they had slept the first two days straight, reliving nightmarish dreams of everything that had happened in their lives up to the grand finale, the garden, the statues of angels ready to carry their father home.
But that wasn't the worst part. The worst was the silence. They had always been deeply religious, through everything that had happened, and God had always been a thick welcoming presence in their lives, always there, somehow making himself known. But after Da had left, there was nothing. It scared Connor. He didn't feel anything there anymore, and he knew Murphy felt the same as they had laid awake one night in the motel and the younger, darker twin had asked.
"Do you think He just abandoned us Conn? We carried out His work and failed by losin' Da, and He just… left us?"
And Connor knew that this was where he was to play big brother, to reassure Murph as he had when they were children. But even he had trouble making it sound believable.
"He never leaves Murph, maybe it was just… ya know… He was stronger when we were the Saints. I guess…" He didn't know what to say.
"Yeah, maybe Conn. We're not the Saints anymore."
As they had settled back into their exhausted fitful sleep, they had both tiredly accepted the idea.
They weren't the Saints anymore.
And they had slipped back into their dreams of losing Rocco and Da, and everything they had known before they had been the Saints.
It must have been what Murph was dreaming about because his face softened in his sleep, the same way it had when Da had told them how beautiful heaven was as he was being welcomed in… But then his face went dark again, he shifted and sat up, pulled into wakefulness. He rubbed a hand over his sunken in eyes (which reminded Connor they had barely eaten in… hell how long was it?) and grimaced.
"Are we there yet er what Conn?" He asked softly, voice still gravelly from sleep. Smecker glanced at them both in the rearview mirror.
"Almost, another twenty minutes." Murph groaned.
"Faaaack, I'm starvin', I 'ope she 'as a home cooked meal all ready fer us," he leaned against the window and stared moodily out, taking in the lush green fields so different from the dismal Boston gray. Smecker about choked on his own laughter.
"You boys are in for a surprise if you expect her to feed and baby you. Quinn can't cook to save her life, and I'm warning you, she's a fucking pistol that one."
Connor smirked.
"As long as she's a looker I guess dat'll make up fer it." Murph even smiled at that one, the little sideways smirk from the corner of his mouth. Smecker's eyes flashed in the rearview, meeting Connor's gaze.
"She'll eat you alive," he laughed humorlessly. Murphy's eyes glinted mischieviously, playfully leaning forward.
"Sounds like a good fuckin' time to me…"
"You wait and see then," Smecker said finally. Connor and Murphy just grinned. The summer air was blowing in through the car window, fresh and warm, the sun shining as bright as it could and making the green grass and blue sky almost neon. Da was gone, but no matter how tired they were, they had to admit, it was a beautiful day.
.xxxx.
Smecker ran a hand through his hair, disheveled from the car ride, as he read Quinn's note. Fuck. He had things to do today, and now he had to drive all the way out to some fucking farm and drop the boys off. He crumpled it up and stuffed it into his pocket as the boys stepped through the door, admiring the well kept little apartment.
"Nice place," Murphy remarked, wandering around the open kitchen and living room, admiring different pictures hanging up. A brand new stereo system and TV were nestled into a TV stand that was set back into the wall, the shelves alongside it lined with books and DVDs. Smecker smiled humorlessly.
"Left her those in my will. TV and stereo were fuckin' expensive. I don't think she uses them much."
Murphy smirked as he flopped onto the couch, turning the TV on with a click of the remote.
"No worries, Conn 'n I'll make sure it gets used."
"So, where is she?" Connor asked, studying the three painted horse shoes hung on the door.
"Patterson Farm, on the Sheffield Road, about ten minutes from here according to her note. Saddle up boys." Smecker clicked the power button, shutting the TV off. His sideways grin was met with groans of protest about getting back in the car. "Now none of that, maybe if you're good, Quinn will take you for a pony ride."
.xxx.
Smecker almost dumped the boys out at the end of the driveway when they got to the barn. He was in a hurry, and he had never been one for horses. Huge, stupid, dirty animals that somehow made his sister fall madly in love with them, he couldn't understand it. He turned the car in the wide drive in front of the barn and headed back down toward the road, with one last glance in the rearview mirror and a passing thought of how the two Irish men would be quite fine looking cowboys.
Connor and Murphy exchanged a glance and headed inside. The barn was spacious and cool, the aisle wide and swept clean. Each stall had its own hook and plaque, one bearing the horse's halter, and the other the horse's name.
"STOP IT!" The sharp bark broke the peaceful quiet somewhere down the aisle. Coming around the corner they saw the source, a young woman hosing down an offended looking horse. The rangy yearling had his nose in the air, pulling the lead chain taught over it. His ears flattened against his head and his eyes rolled as he danced around, convinced that the hose was spraying something much more deadly than warm water. The girl's curly dark hair was falling out of the haphazard pony tail she had thrown it in as she moved expertly with the horse, trying at once to hold the uncooperative animal still and rinse the sweat and dirt off its body.
The horse reared back suddenly, front legs curled to his chest and head snaking side to side in a thousand pound animal's form of a temper tantrum. The lead rope sliced through Quinn's hand before she clamped down on it and gave a firm yank. The horse jerked off balance in surprise and came down with a clatter on the cement floor, and Quinn hit the ground unceremoniously with a painful grunt. The young horse stood, legs splayed wide, a look of bewilderment on its face.
Both Murphy and Connor tried to stifle a laugh at the horse and the girl, who was just about to painfully pick herself up off the floor, unaware that anyone had witnessed the incident. Connor was the first to offer his hand.
"Ya need help?"
Quinn looked up into two sets of the bluest eyes she had ever seen.