Chapter Six Summary: Anna was a normal person until the day her family was murdered because of her husband. She's conflicted, feeling love and hate for him until the day she saw Murphy, who looks very much like her husband did. She sees Murphy as a substitute to punish and break... and love, in a twisted way. She calls Murphy and tortures Connor on the phone for him to hear, making Murphy trade places with his twin. Murphy prepares to die...

AN: This chapter has some kiddie-MacManus! Enjoy!

Demons of Saints

Letters and Games

By Candra Hastings

Not many people have the blessing of being ready to die. Not many people were prepared for it. This wasn't the case for Murphy MacManus. However, though he'd faced death many times before, it had never seemed so real as now.

He'd have liked to gone to church. He wanted to pray in the house of The Lord one last time, to take strength from his Heavenly Father before going to do what he had to do. Because he was scared out of his mind. Best worst case situation, the monster that had tortured him would trade him for his brother. That was, if everything went well.

But there wasn't time for that. Connor needed him soon, so if going to meet Anna while scared out of his mind was his only option, then so be it.

But there was one thing he needed to do before he went to meet the end. He needed... He needed to be able to tell Connor goodbye, because he honestly didn't believe that he would be able to walk away from this one. He had to let Connor know... Because he didn't know if he'd ever get to speak to him again.

Murphy needed to be alone for a few minutes. That's all this would take, just a few of his last minutes. He closed the door and pulled out a pen and some hotel stationary he'd found. This wasn't supposed to be fancy, just true.

Murphy sat on the bed and thought about what he wanted to saw. Then, when he had found the words, he wrote them down. He tried to make the letters neat, but his hand refused to stop shaking. He had to pause a few times to take a breath, but he wasn't even trying to hold back the tears.

Finally, he finished.

He folded the piece of paper up twice and slid it carefully into his back pocket. Then, he picked up his bag, made sure he had his guns, and headed out to the living area. Romeo was waiting for him, a sad look in his eyes. "Ready," he told the Mexican. "You still have the fruity little spic-mobile?"

Romeo nodded. "Went and called my uncle. He brought it here a few minutes ago."

"Good. Let's go. I'll tell you how to get there," Murphy called over his shoulder as he went to the hotel hallway.

"You know where we're going?" Romeo asked as he followed.

"Yeah. It's not really something I could forget," Murphy said cryptically as they made their way to Romeo's car, which Murphy had long ago affectionately named the spic-mobile. They got in and Murphy gave him the directions. The ride wasn't too long and before they knew it, they'd ended up at some warehouse.

Romeo couldn't help but notice that Murphy didn't move to get out of the car, even when he'd parked it and cut the engine. He could see the haunted, far-off look in his friend's eyes. "What is this place?"

Murphy blink slowly, trying to remain calm. "This is where it started, Rome. This is... is where Connor came and got me eight years ago."

"Oh," Romeo said. He got it. This is where Anna had taken Murphy. Where she'd done horrible things to him that the Saint hadn't been willing to share. Where he'd received too many scars to count. Where he was about to return to in order to save his brother from the same fate.

Romeo could feel the tears coming. Afraid of being teased, he sniffled and attempted to hold them back as he got out of the car. Murphy followed his lead and the two met up by the hood.

Murphy dug his hand into his back pocket. He pulled out a folded up piece of paper and handed it to his friend. Hesitantly, Romeo took it and flipped it around in his hands. He could feel the indentions in it from where the pen had been pressed into the paper, along with crinkly spots where tears had soaked into it.

"I need you to do somethin' for me, Rome," Murphy started out. "I'm going in there to get Connor. I don't know if I'll be comin' out with him or not. If I do, then great. If not, and I need you to do this Rome... if I'm not back out thirty minutes after Connor comes, yah need to take him to the hospital and get him looked after."

Romeo frowned. "You want me to leave you here?"

"Yes. And I want yah to give that to Connor when he's calmed down a bit," Murphy instructed.

"He'll hate me, you know," Romeo told his friend, not even caring that he was crying. "He'll hate me if I leave you here."

Murphy knew he was right, but he shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. He was going to make this as easy on the Mexican as he could. "He'll get over it. But Rome, you can't let Connor be upset with himself if I don't come back. Make sure he knows that it's not his fault, right?"

"I-I'll do m-m-my best, M-M-Murphy," Romeo cried, refusing to meet his friend's eyes.

Murphy felt one of his own tears escape. He quickly brushed it away and patted Romeo on the shoulder. "Hey, no cryin' now! There's nothin' to cry about. Can't believe you're countin' me out already," Murphy teased.

But they both knew. They knew that Murphy probably wouldn't walk away from this.

"Right," Romeo sniffled, wiping away the tears. "Are you sure you wanna do this, man? I can go in there with you."

"I'm sure. Just... take care of my brother, alright? Can yah do that for me?" Murphy asked quietly. He was putting all his faith into his friend.

"Yeah, I can do that for you, Murphy," Romeo said while slipping the piece of paper into his pocket. "You're familia."

Murphy smiled and reached out, pulling Romeo into a hug. "Thank you, brother."

Murphy pulled away. He turned on his heel and walked towards the warehouse. His heart pounded in his chest, fear encompassing him. But he wouldn't stop. This wouldn't end until either he or she died, and Connor was safe. He would do anything to save Connor, even sacrifice himself. And so he left Romeo alone.

And he didn't look back.

B~D~S

Connor was absolutely terrified. He sat in his sixth grade history class, the last class of the day, while the teacher passed out the test that he'd known was coming but had failed to study for. Connor hated history. Not because of the subject, but because it was one of the two classes that his didn't share with Murphy. He hated being separated from his twin, even if it was only for an hour.

Connor bowed his head in a silent prayer, asking the good Lord to grant him the luck of the Irish for this exam. He was about to take a stab at the first question when his prayers were answered in the form of a not-so-angel. The grouchy school secretary pulled him from the class, saying the principal wanted to see him.

She lead him down the hallway and placed him in a seat just outside the door to Mr. Locke's office. Then she left him to his thoughts, were were running rampant over the memories over the past few weeks, trying to remember anything that he may have done as of recent to get him into trouble. He and Murphy hadn't played one of their legendary pranks as of late, nor were their grades ever an issue. So what could it be?

Just then, Jerry Rae came out of Mr. Locke's office. He didn't look too pretty. He had a bloody nose and a fresh bruise blooming on his cheek. He walked over with a limp to Connor and pointed over his shoulder to the door. "Mr. Locke wants you now," he said before hobbling off. Whoever had given him a tossing hadn't been happy.

Connor took a deep breath as he walked towards the office. Did Mr. Locke think that he'd done rearranged Jerry's face? Connor hopped not. Sure, he'd gotten into a few scuffles before, but not anything as of late. Still, not one to back down to fear, Connor strode into the room.

Luckily, he wasn't alone. A boy sat across from Mr. Locke's desk. Though Connor could only see the boy from the back, he recognized the dark mop of hair to be Murphy. Before he could call out to his twin, Mr. Locke pointed to the chair next his brother and said, "Have a seat, Mr. MacManus."

Connor obeyed, but it was then that he caught sight of his brother's face. Blood poured from not only Murphy's nose, but from nasty cuts all over his face. His left eye was already swelling shut while the right only remained black. There was a split in his lip that allowed a steady trickle of blood to flow.

"Murph, what happened? Are yah alright?" Connor asked, leaping from his chair to crouch by his brother's side. His fingers ghosted over his brother's face, trying to assess the damage done when Mr. Locke coughed loudly.

"Look, boys, I know that you both are good kids. You're smart, kind, loyal, but you two get into too many fights. This needs to stop," the principal said sternly.

"I have no idea what's going on," Connor insisted, clutching Murphy's hand in his own.

"Well, it would seem that Murphy and Jeremy had a little disagreement. Now, I understand that Jeremy is a bit... standoffish at times, but it was Murphy who threw the first punch today."

Connor looked to his brother in surprise, who in turn refused to look at anyone. It was never like Murphy to throw the first punch. Sure, he'd wanted to at times, as had Connor, but their mother had always asked them to never react with violence unless it came to that, unless you felt in your heart that it was necessary. So why had Murphy felt it so important?

"How much trouble is he in?" Connor asked.

"Since this is his first time that it wasn't in self defense, I'm willing to let him go with a warning," Mr. Locke said gently. "Like I said, you're good boys. I just don't want this to become a habit, because next time I won't be able to be so lenient."

"Obliged, sir," Connor told the man. "But why was I called up here?"

"He's pretty banged up. I think Mr. Murphy MacManus needs to go home. Would you take him or should I call your mother?"

"No," Connor interjected. "I'll take him home, sir. Thank you." With that, he pulled on Murphy's tattered long sleeve and pulled the darker twin out of the room. On the way out the door, Connor yet again forgot his history book in his haste to get Murphy home.

The two walked the long dirt roads and the green fields back to their home. Murphy was limping badly and clutching his shoulder. Connor prayed that it wasn't dislocated or anything. He stayed by his brother's side the whole while, making sure that if he fell, that he would catch him. He didn't ask Murphy about the fight. He knew he would say when he felt good and ready.

It wasn't until they'd locked themselves in their room that Murphy said a word. Connor sat him down on the bed while he went to get a wet rag and bandages for his brother. When he came back, Murphy was worrying away at that thumbnail of his. It was then that Connor caught sight of the bloody knuckles.

Connor sighed and sat down by his twin, pulling this hand into his lap so he could wipe away the blood from the torn skin. "Thanks," Murphy huffed before Connor moved to take care of his face.

Connor only nodded. "It's what we do, Macho Murph."

"You wanna know why."

"I'm not gonna ask."

"But you wanna know."

"Aye," Connor allowed. He wanted to know why he'd be beating Jerry up later for all of these nasty little cuts over his brother's face. "Da'hell did he cut yah with, Murph?"

"The wop was wearin' a ring," Murphy explained. Connor couldn't stop the little growl that escaped from the back of his throat. His grip must've gotten harsher because he saw Murphy wince.

"Sorry."

"'M Fine."

"So you were sayin'," Connor prodded.

"He was sayin' stuff he had no business sayin'," Murphy snapped. "Talkin' about Ma, and Da. Sayin' Ma was a bunch o' nasty stuff because she didn't know where Da was. S'not her fault he's not here."

Connor frowned. "They're just words, Murphy. Ma wouldn't want yah getting banged up for somethin' silly like that."

"T'wasn't just words, Con. Jerry said he was gonna jump yah after school. Jerry had it all planned out. They were waitin' for yah and I just happened on 'em."

So that's what Murphy had flipped over. The idiot had been worrying about Connor. The fairer twin sighed as he finished doctoring the darker's face. Then, he pulled the edge of Murphy's shirt up, trying to asses any further damage. The other flinched away.

"I'm fine, Connor. I just didn't want yah gettin' hurt."

"Well, yah don't need to worry about that. I'm fine and you're fine. If Ma asks about why yah look like a piñata, we'll just tell her that yah ticked me off, right?"

Murphy laughed at that, though it hurt his bruised ribs. "Okay, Con. Thanks."

"It's what big brothers do," Connor teased.

"I'm the oldest and you know it!" Murphy argued just as Connor had predicted.

"Keep tellin' yourself that, little brother."

"Connor! I'm warnin' yah!"...

..."Wakey, wakey, Connor. Little brother is going to be here, soon," that voice called him back from his memory. After a while, all he could do was take comfort in all the memories. Back to Ireland where everything was green and simple. Where the worst monster that you came across was yourself depending on the amount of trouble you caused.

Not other people who deliberately want to hurt you.

Connor opened his eyes as best he could. One was swollen a bit, but it still functioned. He leaned back in the chair and glared up at the monster who was trying to ruin everything.

"He's... he's not coming," Connor denied, as if saying the words could make them true. He hopped Murphy wouldn't come, but he knew his brother better than that. The idiot was probably already on his way in.

"Oh, but he is," Anna disagreed while looking towards the door. And there stood the last person Connor wanted to see at that moment. Murphy looked... well, he looked scary. His dark hair was a mess, sticking up at all kinds of odd ends like he hadn't been able to sleep. The look on his face was livid, like he had murder on his mind.

Anna ginned like a child on Christmas day as she moved behind Connor, pressing a gun to his head. Murphy stayed stone still as he watched his brother.

"Con, you alright?" he called to his twin. He could see that Connor was a little cut up and had earned a few bruises and burns. Murphy knew that Connor was hurt, but it honestly didn't look like anything too serious. He would get Connor out of here and Romeo could take care of everything.

"Peachy," Connor huffed.

"Okay, so I'm here," Murphy directed at Anna. "Let Connor go."

"Your weapons," Anna pointed out. "Toss them."

Murphy didn't move, so she pulled a knife out and pressed it to Connor's throat. Murphy flinched and moved towards his weapons. Slowly, he tossed the guns away from him.

"And your knife," she said drawing the blade across Connor's skin a little.

Murphy obeyed instantly. How could he not when she had his brother?

"That's it," he told her. "Now let Connor go. I can take him out to the car and then I'm yours," he offered her.

But Anna wasn't buying it. "Yeah, right. I'm not done yet," she snarled while she walked over to Murphy. She kept the gun trained on Connor as she moved so he could do nothing. Murphy couldn't help but tremble as she drew closer. She scared the hell out of him, and here she was, the monster of his nightmares come to visit him in reality.

But Anna hit him over the head with the gun, and suddenly, Murphy wasn't thinking very much anymore. His body crumpled to the ground while Connor screamed.

"Leave him alone!" Connor yelled as he tugged on his bonds violently, thrashing to get free so he could save his brother.

"I don't think so," Anna grinned. "In fact, I think I'll be keeping you both. Now, the games can finally begin. Now, I can truly take what's mine."