Author's Notes: I am such a sad panda right now. I wrote this chapter and it was going quite well and I only had two more scenes left to write. They say to save often in case of your computer crashing or the power going out; well I do save quite often actually, but only to one file. The last time I went to save the file got corrupted and I lost it all. It turned in to a series of boxing that just taunted me with various sentences that I wrote sticking out. Oi, it was painful. I'm still in mourning. ::sigh::

Anyway, what I was saying in my author's notes that you didn't get to read, the last chapter bugs me because it seemed AU. I apologize if it was. I guess I'm going to watch the movie again so I'll get back into that mindset.

Now that I'm back to writing, I'm going to finish this story and hopefully not wait a year between chapters. So let's go!

Chapter VIII: Housekeeping

Connor awoke with a start to a forceful thudding at the door. It took only seconds before pain assaulted him with such a force that it made his eyes darken and go unfocused. A quite moan escaped his lips as the pounding started again.

Connor gathered his strength and began the daunting task of answering the door. He firmly planted both his feet on the floor and slowly rose to standing. What seemed to be a drastic change in altitude caused his head to feel like it was imploding creating black dots that danced in front of his eyes. He stumbled as he started to walk and used everything he could get his hands on as support.

He blinked his bleary eyes and tried to focus through the peephole at the offender who so desperately needed his attention. No one was there. He cursed under his breathe. It took so much effort to answer the damn door and no one was even there. As he turned to leave the thudding began again.

Connor cautiously cracked open the door. Standing there was a tiny Asian woman. She was pudgy and couldn't have been more than five feet tall. She had hard deep wrinkles that covered her face, but her eyes spoke of kindness. She had her arms crossed in fit of determination that was comical given her stature.

"Oh honey, you look terrible!"

Connor blinked. Had this tiny woman really been pounding on his door for five minutes?" "Can I help ye?"

"Oh! Housekeeping."

"No, thank ye."

"No, housekeeping. You let me in, honey."

"Can ye come back later this afternoon? Tomorrow would work even better."

"Ok, honey, I tell you what I do. I come back in ten minute. You go order you breakfast and get some fruit, not just meat and pancake. I know you American men, you don't eat no fruit. And shower. You smell like monkey."

Connor couldn't help the smile that graced his face. This woman had more balls than he expected.

"Shower. Fruit. I be back in ten minute, honey."

The Asian woman waddled down the hall and began pounding on the next door. Connor pitied anyone who would dare cross that woman. He gently closed the door and stumbled back towards the phone. As juvenile as it seemed, it couldn't break his promise to the elderly woman. A sense of guilt crept over him if he didn't order his breakfast, with fruit, and shower. He quickly called room service and ordered both him and Murphy a healthy breakfast.

He peeled away his dirty clothes and soon found himself nestled in a warm, steamy shower. He was surprised to find that he had caked blood dried across his forehead. He watched the red substance slowly melt away and swirl down the drain. It was somewhat mesmerizing. The knots in the back and neck were slowly releasing. Connor once again found himself feeling guilty about potentially missing the elderly woman, so he soon stumbled out of the shower and back into the room.

Connor found himself standing in front of his twin, who looked absolutely terrible. The bruising around his neck had begun to fade, but still left angry yellow marks. He also sported a bloodied forehead, but what concern him the most was Murphy's ragged breathing. His breathes came in shallow spurts and he seem to shutter with each one. He was obviously more injured than Connor had expected. Connor sat beside and roughly shaking his shoulder. "Murph, wake up!"

A groggy rumbling noise emitted from the sleeping Irishman. Murphy slowly cracked his eyes open and stared unseeing at the room. He let out a wide mouthed yawn and attempted to stretch his body out before pain began to sear throughout his chest. Stopping mid-stretch, he let out a loud curse before curling back into himself. "Am I dead?"

"…No."

"I feel dead."

"Ye look dead too."

Murphy slowly lifted his shirt up revealing his blackened side. The bruises cover almost half of his chest, but were concentrated on his right side. Murphy probed them and let out another hiss in response. "They're broken."

Before Connor was able to respond, the thudding of the door started again. Connor hopped up and strolled towards the door opening it widely. The tiny Asian woman came in pushing the tray of food ahead of her. "You such good boy! You listen to Mama He. You get fruit!"

The pudgy housekeeper turned to face Murphy. "Oh honey, you no eat. You shower. You look just like other one this morning."

Murphy stared blankly at this intruder in his room. "What?"

"You shower, you smelly dog. Get up right now! No one like smelly ugly man! You feel much better. Mama He promise."

Murphy stared blankly at the bold Asian standing before him. Casting a sideways glance at his brother, he found Connor smiling brightly at him. "I fuckin' broke my ribs! It fuckin' hurts to get up. I'm stayin' in bed!"

Mama He's faced harden. She took several slow, intimidating steps towards Murphy before crouching to be eye level with him. "You so disrespectful! I know your mama taught you better than that! You no cuss at an elderly woman. What's wrong with you?

"I broke my ribs." Murphy punctuated each word. "It hurts. And if you want to talk about being disrespectful, you're the one who came in here telling me that I'm ugly and I smell!"

"Oh, honey, I was being honest. You only ugly because you smell and look dirty. With shower, you clean and handsome like your brother. I tell you what, you shower and when you done I have special tea for you. It has healing in it, you feel better no time!"

"Murph, ye won't win. Just get up."

Murphy sighed in resignation. Gingerly, he sat up taking his time and for once putting thought into each movement. He let out an audible moan when he finally stood and swaying slightly on his feet. He stuck his hand out and grazed the wall as he slowly made his way into the bathroom. Neither Connor nor Mama He moved until they heard the shower turn on minutes later.

"Ok, honey, you eat now, I clean."

Connor plopped on to a nearby seat and uncovered his meal. He had all the essentials before him. Pancakes smothered in maple syrup, bacon, eggs, sausage, hash browns and of course, an assortment of fruits; strawberries, bananas, cantaloupe, oranges and more. Connor had to admit that he wasn't one to eat his fruits and vegetables very often. He also had to admit that Mama He was right, they were delicious.

Murphy soon stumbled out of the shower looking fresher and more alert than he had before. His movements where still carefully executed, but he seemed to be breathing better. He looked slightly startled at the chubby Asian woman that was hurrying around their room. She scooted past him and into the bathroom where she proceeded to quickly clean up.

Murphy gingerly sat beside his brother and stared at the assortment of food sitting before him. He grabbed a slice of bacon and began to happily munch on it. They sat in a contented silence before Mama He poked her head back into their view, handing Murphy a large mug of steaming tea.

"Drink. It's special tea. Handed down many generations, make you feel much better."

Murphy sniffed the tea in distaste. It had quite a pungent smell to it. But if Murphy had learned anything in his life, it was that medicine always tasted terrible. He briefly wondered why that was and how with all the marvels in the world, they couldn't come up with something that people wanted to take. Like a beer flavored cough syrup or chocolate aspirin. Murphy had a hunch that if he was a chemist, he would make millions. But Murphy sucked it up and took a gulp of the warm, amber liquid.

It was thicker than what he expected. He coated his throat as it went down and warmed his body. He didn't want to admit it to the old lady, but it actually tasted quite good. He drank and ate quietly for a while, lost in his own world. He began to think about last night's events and how they were going to proceed from there. They had no car, no money and were stranded in an unfamiliar place. Murphy hoped that Fredo Adamo had no connections that he needed to worry about. The likelihood of that was slim though.

Murphy was stuck. He had no idea how to proceed now and he doubted that Connor knew either. The only logical thing was to call Smecker. Hopefully he knew who Adamo was and could give them some tips on what to do next.

He hated to do it though. Murphy had a strong independence streak that ran through him. He had had it through childhood and could easily think of several instances that his unwillingness to ask for help had ended up screwing him over. Murphy glanced over to his twin and was surprised to find him dialing the phone. Apparently Connor's train of thoughts ended where Murphy's did. Connor put the phone on speakerphone and threw it to the table as it rang aloud.

"Smecker."

"We need yer help."

"Well, well, Connor, it looks like the lamb has run to the lion for its protection."

"Fuck off."

Smecker quietly laughed into the phone. "I do most nights."

Murphy cringed at the visual.

"I've been researching that child murderer you've been after and he's quite a sicko. He reminds me a lot of the BTK killer for kids. I look forward to when you finally catch him. They've narrowed it down to three possible people, Charlie Kent, Michael Shaffer or Taylor Woodworth. I have their addresses ready for you."

"We're not in Florida. We're stuck in fuckin' Georgia. We have someone else we need some information on. Who is Fredo Adamo?"

Smecker snickered into the phone again bringing another disturbing visual in Murphy's head. He could just see him laying in his bedroom with a red silken robe on, lazily twirling the phone chord around his fingers. He shuddered trying to physically shake himself of that thought.

The MacManus brothers heard Smecker move and the quiet tapping sound of a keyboard in the background.

"Hrm…the way you attract evil men like this astounds me. Fredo Adamo plays a major role in Boston's gambling district. His brother, Desi is the Don. Apparently poor Fredo was recently found dead. A car accident in...Georgia. Shocker. Adamo is linked to a series of violent deaths and has been known to provoke wars and take over other territories. He certainly sounds like the type who would come after someone who killed his brother."

Connor and Murphy both swore to themselves. They were never going to make it to Florida at this rate. They were so close too, another state and a half to go and they can take out their intended target and relax on the beach with some Captain Morgan. They had to plan their next move wisely. Someone was coming after them. They had no idea what he looked like or where he was.

"We don't got shit. We got in a wreck and lost everything. No money, no car, and only one fuckin' hand gun. We're fucked."

The keyboard clicking the background had begun again.

"Now Connor, there's no need to be pessimistic. Find a Bank of America and I'll give you access to my…special account. Take all the money you need, but remember, you'll need to repay me for it. We can figure out those details later. There's a guy in Atlanta who can help you rebuild your collection. His name is Seth Hodgkins. He's a sketchy man, but I assure you he has everything you need."

"Thanks. How are we going to find Seth?"

"I'll give him a ring-a-ding-ding and let him know you're coming. He'll find you."

Connor scribbled down all the information needed to access the bank account. He knew that they owned Smecker for everything he was helping them with right now, but he would have to figure it out later. He was just happy to have the start of an escape plan at the moment.

They quickly dressed themselves and left the hotel. The first stop had to be a clothing store. Their signature style was bloodied and torn and was attracting attention from everyone that they passed. Staying low key was something that they often struggled with. It seemed that no matter how hard they tried, people always noticed them. The poor high school girl seemed terrified when she was helping them.

Shortly after they found themselves at a used car lot faced with a sketchy, fast talking man name Ray. Ray was a balding man. He stood as tall as the MacManus brother, but he was more portly than the twins. Not only did Ray like to talk, Ray liked to yell. Connor and Murphy found themselves being yelled at from across the lot.

"This one here! This is the car you need! Imagine all the tang that you would get driving this car!"

Connor and Murphy found themselves exchanging looks between each other. Buying a car from this man would be tricky. Murphy walked toward the car the man was indicating at and found a used Lexus. It was an older version, blue in color, but was badly faded from lack of care. While the interior did appear to be leather, the roof was cracked and falling. Murphy sighed to himself and kicked the tire of the shitty car before him. He could tell already that it was going to be a very long day.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Desi glanced out of the window at the small police station. It appeared innocent enough. There was a group of officers loitering outside the station. They tried to look casual as they smoked their cigarettes, but they couldn't help but to watch Desi with hopeful anticipation. Apparently they were looking for some action and Desi looked like someone who would cause trouble. They had no idea how much trouble he could cause.

He shuffled out of the car and adjusted his black Armani suit. With a small flick of his wrist, he sent his driver off. He confidently walked past the group of men hoping to goad them in starting a fight with him. He was beyond angry and he needed to kill someone. Unfortunately when he walked past the group, none of them took the bait.

As he walked into the station a hushed silence fell as everyone turned to look at the stranger who walked in. A nervous disheveled man jolted up to him and thrust out his hand. "Hello there, I'm uhh…I'm Mr. Turner. Donnie Turner."

"Desi Adamo"

"Yes, yes, I uhh…I know you quite well. Please, please, follow me to my office, Mr. Adamo or uhh…or should I call you…?"

"Mr. Adamo works fine."

Desi followed the man down a boring corridor. It was entirely white and nothing hung on the walls. When they finally arrived at Mr. Turner's office, it was no shock to find it completely chaotic. There were no windows, which proved to be a good thing because the room was covered in stacks of papers that were precariously balanced. The slightest breeze would have caused the entire room to collapse. Mr. Turner hurried over to a small leather chair sitting in front of what he assumed was a desk. He grabbed yet another stack of papers and circled around looking for the perfect spot for them. With a sigh, he carefully put them atop of one of the shortest stacks, keeping his hands outstretched before him in hopes of catching the pile should it tip over.

"Please, please sit Mr. Adamo."

Desi plopped down at the chair and stared at the man. He was beginning to get frustrated already. How could this idiot be his mole? He could barely hold himself together. His hair was uncombed, his clothes were wrinkled, clearly this man did not take pride in his appearance. The nervous man grabbed his glasses and a nearby stack of papers.

"So uhh...Mr. Adamo, so we found your brother umm…Fredo. We found Fredo down a hill about two miles from the main highway. He appeared to have died on impact and we wouldn't have suspected any uhh…foul play if we hadn't noticed another car about 10 yards from Fredo. It was uhh…almost completely submerged."

Desi stared blankly at the man before rubbing his temples. It was like this man's brain just stopped mid-sentence every few seconds. It was really quite frustrating.

"So whose car was it?"

"Well…see…since there were no other bodies there, we could only assume that the person who drove in to the lake is alive and fled the scene, which is really…quite suspicious, you know. So we ran the plate and uhh…it belongs to an Anna Love in Boston. The uhh…funny thing is that Mrs. Sarah Love died eight years ago. We contracted her survivors, a uhh…Kevin Noel in Detroit and he told us that his mother had sold the car two years before her death because Sarah had macular degeneration. Which is really a shame because uh...my mother had that too and uh…it was a struggle."

"Let me get this straight, Mr. Turner. You have no idea who the car belongs to. I drove from Massachusetts to South Carolina for you to waste my time? I really don't like people who waste my time."

"No! No, I'm not wasting anyone's time. I don't think it's a coincidence that uhh…your brother and these other people were from Boston. When we found Fredo, he uhh..he had coins over his eyes and I researched that and it seemed to be a trademark to one of your so called...uh…vigilantes in Boston. Saints, they're called because the only go after criminals. Though it could be a copy cat killer. The uh…Saints put pennies over the eyes and uhh…Fredo had a quarter and a dime over his eyes."

"So where are they now?"

"We uhh…we don't' know. We tried to track them, there were uhh…two sets of footprints leading away from the car. We could track them for several miles, but they hit the main road and we lost them after that. But we're uhh…we're still deciphering the clues at the crime scene and hopefully uhh…we'll catch a break and find them."

Desi took out a cigar and began smoking. He watched as the smoke lazily drifted above his head. It was quite interesting to find that the two Irishmen that his brother went after were the Saints of South Boston. He quite liked this new twist. Now not only will he avenge his brother, but he would avenge all the other people these two douchebags killed. A smile creeped over Desi's face and he let out a small chuckled.

This was going to be quite fun.