Conner and Murphy stumbled through the front door. Julie was about to let out a sigh of relief, but it caught in her throat when she realized Conner was helping his injured brother walk. She put the gun back on the table and hurried over to help him.
"Honey, we're home," Murphy grumbled as Julie swung his other arm over her shoulder. Conner still supported most of the weight, but she could tell her help eased him a bit.
"Get him on the table," Conner said gruffly.
Julie obliged, moving the gun off the table and onto the chair. Luckily the table had been one of the things she'd cleaned off while they were gone. They sat Murphy up on the table, and Julie could see the wound in his right leg. It was bleeding pretty badly. Before anyone could say anything, she grabbed either side of the hole in his jeans and ripped it bigger. Pressing her hand hard over the wound and ignoring a wincing Murphy, she turned to Conner.
"Grab a bottle of whiskey and one of the bed sheets," she ordered.
Conner nodded and did what she had said as Murphy gave a weak laugh. "Mmm, whiskey. That's just what I need."
Julie smiled up at him, but pressed harder on his wound. He grimaced and stopped laughing. Conner came back with the whiskey in hand and the sheet trailing behind him. He started tearing off strips of bed sheet as Julie unscrewed the bottle.
"Oh no, not the bedsheets," Murphy groaned playfully through clenched teeth.
"Don't worry, Murph," Conner laughed. "It's yer sheet, not mine."
Murphy hissed loudly as Julie poured some whiskey over his wound. He grabbed the bottle away from her and started drinking it. Julie had to pry it from his hands to get him to stop. "Too much might kill you."
"Aye, but it wouldn't hurt any more," Murphy retorted.
Julie started wrapping the strips of cloth around his leg, but it was tight enough. She looked around for an idea and her eyes quickly fell on Conner again.
"Give me your belt," she said hurriedly.
"Now's hardly the time to be undressing me brother," Murphy joked as Conner did what she asked.
Julie started wrapping the belt around his wound, but Murphy started to tense up in anticipation of the pain. She looked up at him sternly, "You need to relax your muscles."
Murphy shook his head. "Ye know, I don't think that kiss I took was very good luck."
"That's because you didn't kiss me right," Julie replied, leaning in a bit closer to him. "You just had to be coy and brush your lips against me cheek."
Julie moved her face close enough that her breath fell on his cheek. She stayed there for a second, until his breathing started to return to a normal rate. Then, she whispered "What you should have done was this."
She pressed her lips softly on his forehead just above his nose. In that same moment, she pulled the belt tight around his wound. Murphy screamed, his head falling back away from her. She grabbed the back of his neck to keep him from falling all the way backwards. Conner came over to cinch the belt as tightly as possible while Julie pulled Murphy back into the sitting position. He actually leaned a little further forward and glared at her.
"Evil woman," he grumbled and grabbed the bottle of whiskey again. "I'll be havin' the rest of this now."
"You've earned it," she smiled sweetly.
"Looks like the bleedin's stopped," Conner said, clapping a hand on Julie's shoulder. "Ye did a good job."
"It was only a flesh wound," she said in a mock British accent.
"Christ," Murphy grumbled around his whiskey bottle. "Not Monty Python."
Julie laughed and helped Conner pull Murphy off the table. They supported him as he hobbled to his mattress. Once he was laying down, he sat the whiskey bottle on the floor and rolled to his left side.
"We'll have to keep a watch on your leg," she told Murphy. "If you lose feeling in your feet and toes, then we have the belt too tight. For now, though, you should be okay."
Murphy nodded and closed his eyes, his face twisting in pain. It passed as Julie watched him from the foot of his mattress. Conner tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around. He was holding Pokey out for her with a smile.
"Ye dropped him," he chuckled, then stepped a bit closer. "Thanks for helpin' me brother."
"It's the least I could do," she smiled, absently putting her hand on his chest.
Conner hissed a little in pain. Julie quickly tore her hand away and saw it covered in blood.
"Fuck, Conner," she mumbled. "Take your shirt off."
"Oi," Murphy called from the mattress. "First the belt and now the shirt. That's not fair."
"Shut it, Murph," Conner laughed, pulling his shirt off. "You got one more kiss than I did."
Murphy smirked and dropped his head back to his pillow. Julie inspected the cut on Conner's chest. It wasn't bleeding as bad as Murphy's wound had been, but it was bad enough. She practically pushed him back toward the table and sat him in a chair. Then she went to the bedroom and rummaged through the bags of her things. Near the top of the second bag she found her sewing kit. Most of the dust had been knocked off of it when it was thrown into the bag, but luckily everything was still inside.
Carrying it out to the main room, she grabbed Murphy's bottle of whiskey, ignoring his protests. She sat the bottle and the sewing kit on the table next to Conner and started pulling things out. He waited there patiently as she went to the kitchen for a clean glass and returned to pour the whiskey into it. She dipped several cotton balls into the liquor and started dabbing them on Conner's wound.
"Fuck," Conner hissed. "That hurts worse than what made the wound."
"What a shame," Julie replied. "And I thought I was making things all better."
She pulled out a needle and a bit of white thread, dipping both into the glass of whiskey. Julie knew technically it would be considered unsanitary to do so since Murphy had been drinking out of the bottle, but they were brothers, and no doubt what germs one had the other had too. Once they had been completely soaked, Julie pulled the needle and thread out.
"Conner, I'm warning you now, this will hurt," she said softly, then gave him a stern look. "But if you get the idea of grabbing onto me for support, you better make it with your left hand. My one side still hurts too much for you to latch onto."
"I'll keep that in mind," he nodded and braced himself as she started to sew the wound closed.
He did well in the beginning, only wincing and groaning a little. But by the time Julie got to the last few stitches, his left hand was gripping her right hip hard. She didn't have scissors, so she tied the knot and cut the thread with her teeth. Then she patted his cheek gently.
"You're all done, Conner," she said with a smile.
He nodded grudgingly, moving his arm around to test the suture. It was good enough to hold. Not professional of course, but good enough. He looked up at her with a smirk. "Thanks."
Julie leaned in and kissed his forehead. "There, you and your brother are even."
"Hell of a bedside manner," he smirked as she helped him stand.
Murphy was out cold on his mattress, snoring gently. After helping Conner sit down, Julie went to check his leg. The bleeding had stopped and the wound was starting to clot. He whimpered in his sleep and she reached out and petted his hair. With a contented mewling sound, he nuzzled closer to his pillow.
Turning back to Conner, Julie sat beside him on his mattress. He had propped himself up against the wall, his pillow at the small of his back. Poking at his wound, he closed his eyes and winced.
"Stop that," Julie yelped, slapping the back of his hand.
Conner looked at her with a rueful smile. "Ye did a hell of a job on the both of us. D'ye have some kinda trainin'?"
"First-hand experience," she smiled back, looking away from him.
"Ye mean," Conner began, then fell silent. His hand brushed her shoulder, making her look up at him. He was staring at her face, and she imagined all the sympathy in the world was showing through his eyes. "He's hurt ye this bad before, Julie?"
"He's knocked me down before and not cared where I landed," she replied. "It's amazing the kinds of wounds you can get when you don't know what you're falling on."
Conner didn't laugh, or even crack a smile. He brought his fingertips close to her bruised cheek. "Ye'll never be hurt like that again, Julie. Me and Murph here will make sure of it."
As if on cue, Murphy gave a loud snort. Julie smiled and Conner gave a short laugh. "Whenever he gets around to wakin' up."
"You need to get some rest too, Conner," she said softly, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.
Murphy gave a soft moan, then smirked, grumbling "One more for me."
Julie laughed, crawling over to Murphy's mattress and planting a quick peck on the cheek. Before she could pull away, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her closer, rolling with her onto his back. She laughed, patting his arms good-heartedly.
"Let 'er up, Murph," Conner warned with a playful lilt. "Girl's got ta breathe, ye know."
"Ah, Conn," Murphy protested, though he smirked up at Julie. "What if I want ta leave 'er breathless?"
"Good night, Murphy," she said in a sing-song fashion as he let her go.
"Good night, sweetheart," he answered.
She stood and smiled at Conner. "Good night."
" 'Night darlin'," he replied, slipping down onto his mattress as Julie went into the bedroom.