A/N: Thank you to IrishSaints and wolfchick11 for reviewing and thank you all for reading! Enjoy this next one. I'll try to update as soon as possible. xx

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Chapter 10: Explanations

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"What Do You Do?"

By: Papa Roach

I got a one-way ticker on a hell-bound train
With nothing to lose and nothing to gain
Nobody ever taught me how to live
I'm feeling like I'm lost - like I'll never be found
I'm twisted and I'm turned around
Nobody ever taught me how to love
I'm hurting everybody I'm hurting myself
I'm desperate
So what do you do
When it all comes down on you?
Do you run and hide
Or face the truth?
If you were to tell me that I'd die today
This is what I'd have to say
I never really had the time to live
And if you were to give me just another chance
Another life, another dance
All I really want to do is love
I'm hurting everybody
I'm hurting myself
I'm desperate
When all is said and done you could be the one
With open arms and open eyes
You're jumping off the edge and hoping you can fly
Accept your fate for what it is
Into the great unknown
...got a one-way ticket on a hell-bound train
With nothing to lose and nothing to gain...

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Lourdes' distressed request to for Murphy to explain what had transpired the night before certainly gained his attention. Her outburst took him aback, for he never would've guessed that she'd be a woman who was very assertive. She must also be a naturally convincing woman; well, he had only guessed, after finding out what she had done with Connor. He still couldn't believe that his brother had erred so easily, for he had always been the one able to suppress his feelings and hide his emotions. Though, with a conceding nod and shrug, he began to recount to Lourdes what had happened.

FLASHBACK

Connor was astonished at the abrupt appearance of the intruder. Though having no idea who he was, he could see by his expression that he had every intention of harming Lourdes. Connor's eyes widened as he witnessed Lourdes defend herself, only somewhat successful at her attempt, her strength waning as she was overpowered. As the attacker stalked his way over to her once more, Connor, in the meantime, was easily escaping through the weak bondage that Lourdes had him in. Just has he had untied his last leg, he openly cursed to himself as he witnessed the remote control being smashed over Lourdes' head, breaking it into several pieces that scattered all over the carpeted floor. Finding himself enraged at this, Connor carried the chair that he had just been bound to and held it high over his head. Just as the attacker turned to pick up his fallen switchblade, Connor used all his might to swing the wooden chair, breaking it upon the attacker's head and sending him straight to the ground with an earth-shattering thud.

Breathing heavily after his exerted effort, Connor limped towards Lourdes' side, still feeling faint from his own head injury. He fell on his knees, pressing his two fingers upon her neck. There was still a pulse. Seeing that she was unconscious and severely bleeding from her wounds, he flipped open his cell phone and hastily dialed Murphy's number.

"Murphy's Sex Shop, how may I please ye?"

"Oi, shut up!" Connor hissed. "Murphy, come to the agents' hotel, now!" He commanded frantically, eyes flashing about the room, praying to God that nobody else was coming. "Shit's gone down. Another assassin was sent to kill them. I killed the motherfucker, but I don't know how many of them there are."

"Fuck." Murphy swore to nobody in particular as he riotously honked and yelled at the car in front of him. "I'm in Da's car right now. I'll be there as soon as I can."

As he flipped his phone closed, Connor winced, assessing that Lourdes was severely wounded. Not wanting to hurt her even more, he tried his best not to move her as of yet, looking over her body to see where she was injured. Seeing her bleeding arm, he ripped a part of his shirt off, quickly tying it over her wound as a temporary tourniquet. A part of him didn't know why he was helping her. If this big, bald fuck didn't interrupt her little interrogating speech, who knew what she might've done? Rightly, what she could still do? 'Fuck ye, conscience,' Connor growled to himself, finding it impossible for him to be charitable to even her. 'She calls ye a fuckin' psycho and plans to single-handedly bring down the Saints, and ye respond by helpin' her!' Ignoring these facts for the moment, he took her in his arms, brushing away his discontent. As he held her head upon his lap, his ears perked up to worried voices from the corridor, calling out her name.

"In here!" he cried in response, subsequently seeing Isolde and Braden appear at the doorway. They had just returned from McGuinty's a few moments prior when they heard scuffling noises above them. Immediately alert, they pried their guns from their holsters, cautiously walking through the hotel. Upon hearing Connor's voice, Isolde carefully entered the room, gun pointed in front of her first. Braden followed closely behind, his actions identical. Seeing the damage done to the room, as well as a lifeless man sprawled on the ground in front of them, they pointed their guns both at Connor, though question evident in their eyes. "Let her go."

"Whoa, hey…" Connor placed Lourdes softly on the ground, doing as he was told in slow motion. "I wasn't the one that tried to harm her." He tried his best to convince the two agents, arms slowly rising in the air. With a motion of his head, he pointed out the dead giant in front of him. "He did." Seeing that the two agents only half-believed him, he continued," Whoever these fuckers are, they found out where ye guys were stayin' again. Now they're obviously trying to take ye out one by one." Sharing the worried glances of the agents, Connor declared, "Ye guys need to be somewhere else right now, somewhere safe…and so does Agent Villamor."

"What do ye propose we do, then?" Braden inquired, though still pointing the gun dangerously towards Connor.

"We need to take care of her wounds, but the hospital will ask questions. My brother will be here soon. I'll take her to my place on McGowan Street. It's the safest place I know right now for her to be treated and to recover." When he still saw hesitation, Connor continued, "Look, ye have yer guns already pointed at my head. I don't know what else to say to convince ye. I don't mean any of ye harm, alright?"

"Alright." Isolde finally gave in after a few moments of deliberation, eyes still surveying Connor's face. She lowered her gun, much to Connor's relief.

Braden followed suit, his eyebrows furrowed. "What about us?"

"We'll take ye straight to the police station." It was the only logical thing that Connor could think of at the moment. Receiving nods of acquiesce from the agents, he instructed, "Tell Smecker about what happened and that I'll call him later."

END FLASHBACK

"…I came just a few minutes later. We dropped yer agents off at the police station like Connor said and then we took ye here. Ye've been out for a few hours." Murphy's face suddenly hardened, recalling what had transpired between he and his brother on the drive home. He had unconditional faith in his brother, especially when it came to operations that he pulled, but he had never once experienced Connor actually make an error. It inextricably wondered and angered him, finally pinpointing that his brother's downfall had been a woman. Sitting back upon the bed, he informed her in a harsh tone, "Yer agents still don't know anything, but Con told me everything, so don't bother to make up bullshit."

Lourdes rightly swallowed under his intense gaze, once again on her guard. Truthfully, this Murphy MacManus was not who she had envisaged the person to be. She comprehended the crimes of the Saints, so she immediately formed a negative conception about all of them. But Murphy, his was a personality difficult to discern; somewhat temperamental, for his emotions tended to fluctuate, though benevolent in his intentions. Though even upon this reflection, Lourdes pursed her lips, still debating whether or not to believe his story. "I still can't believe that you managed to convince my agents to bring me here." A sudden surge of fear that they were injured, or worse, dead, crossed her mind.

"Almost didn't. It took both Smecker and my brother." Murphy smirked with a shrug. "We said we'd give 'em a call in the morning, so ye can have my word on that." As if reading Lourdes' previous thoughts, he reassured her quickly, "Don't worry, we didn't kill 'em or anythin'."

Half-heartedly accepting that reply for now, she questioned, "So where exactly am I?"

"The MacManus Brothers humble apartment." With his back straightened, Murphy replied, pride lining his tone. He cocked his head to the side. "This building is pretty quiet, so we don't have to worry 'bout any intruders here. Everyone pretty much keeps to their own shit, and that's just the way we like it."

At this point, Connor ungraciously entered the apartment, hugging a paper bad upon his chest as he quickly kicked the door closed. The loud bang had caught both Lourdes' and Murphy's attentions as Connor placed the bag unceremoniously upon the kitchen counter, along with his set of keys. His icy blue eyes instantly met Lourdes' penetrating gaze, what had transpired between them obviously not yet forgotten. Murphy felt the thick tension in the room, growing as every second passed by, his eyes bolting alternately between the two. He admitted that he couldn't blame his brother for being a little irate about the situation. What possessed him to save the girl was probably only his conscience. He would've done that for anyone. Though, Murphy knew that all of this 'Good Samaritan' shit had a price – everything had a price.

"The medicine's here." Connor's firm voice finally pierced the air, gaze softening as it now landed on his brother. As an afterthought, he flashed his eyes mockingly at Lourdes as he added with a snarl, "Make sure ye save one for me. I need it for my head."

Lourdes' lips curled into a snarl as she inwardly growled. What right in earth, heaven or hell did he have to be angry? He had been the one putting on a façade! Fuckin' male pride, she snorted to herself. Replying bitterly, she eyed both men, "Having saved me or not, you both are still criminals, along with your father and Smecker."

Connor's patience finally waned at this statement. Expressing the exploding emotions within him, he slammed his fists upon the counter, startling both Lourdes and even his brother. He didn't know what he was more upset about: the fact that Lourdes had uncovered him, that he fell for her (nicely executed) sexual trick, or that he now openly placed his family and Smecker in complete danger. He held a stiff finger up, pointing it steadily at Lourdes. "Ye keep yer fuckin' mouth shut, alright? Ye don't know what the fuck yer talkin' about."

To Lourdes, Connor resembled a cornered animal rather than a caged one. So, gathering her courage, she decided to push this discussion along just a little further. "If you kill me, the An Garda Síochána will be on your asses in an instant."

"Who said I was goin' to fuckin' kill ye?" Running his long fingers through his spiked hair in frustration, Connor stalked his way over to Lourdes' side. Murphy felt her immediately recoil. "Unless that's what ye want?"

Wrong move or not, Lourdes proclaimed, her chin held high. "I will report you to the proper authorities. These killings will end, and you will be punished for what you've done."

Connor all but restrained himself from strangling her. As he took another menacing step forward, Murphy shot up a hand in defense, holding his brother at bay. "Lourdes," her name rolled off his tongue awkwardly as he began reasonably, "like I told ye, my brother only did what he did so that he could find out more information about the hit on ye, yer agents and the IRA. He meant none of ye harm." Twisting his head to face her, he declared, "As for our job, we harm those who deserve it and no one else. The crime rate in Boston went down twenty percent when we started doing our shit. The mafiosi went out into hiding. Most of their supporters shut up. No matter how wrong ye think it is, can't ye see that what we're doin' is for the benefit of the innocent?"

Lourdes blinked, trying to process all of this. What she believed in, followed and preached and what she was hearing now from the Saints were contradicting, and it wholly confused her. Could she go against what she was taught, both in secular and spiritual terms, and actually accept what the Saints were about? Could the killings of these evil men be actually justified?

"Fillean meal ar an meallaire. Don't you agree with that?" Murphy continued through her silence, trying to make Lourdes understand their principles, keeping his eyes on her. "Cops shoot at criminals everyday, and sometimes kill them. Are they considered criminals themselves afterwards? No. They're even considered fuckin' heroes."

"Quit tryin' to persuade her, Murph." Connor retorted bitingly, gaze falling to Lourdes once more. "She ain't gonna get it through that thick skull o' hers." As he brushed his brother's hand away from his chest, Connor bent over, his face now parallel to Lourdes'. "Tell anyone of what ye know and, so help me God, I will…I'll…"

Lourdes tightened her jaw, unflinching, challenging him to finish his threat. "You'll do what?"

"I'll figure somethin' out." Connor snapped after a few moments of unsuccessful thought, looming above her as he stood. He boomed, "Now take the fuckin' medicine and get the fuck out of my apartment!"

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Translation:

Fillean meal ar an meallaire. Evil returns to the evil doer. (From Gaelic)

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A/N: So what'd you think of that? Don't forget to review!