Hey guys, long time, no see! Sorry for the unpurposeful hiatus, but a lot of things kept me from updating, most understandably, life in general, as well as the occassional writer's block. But I have rewatched Boondock Saint's II recently, which gave me the kick in the butt I needed to finally update. Hope you guys aren't disappointed with this chapter :)
cemmia: Yeah, I know Murphy should have been there, but he does come back in this chapter :)
Love ya guys!
- Nagiana
Favorite Line(s):
"Murph, me and Branna got married today."
Murphy gave a laugh and a grin. "Ya pullin' ma leg? Branna Whelan, gettin' hitched?"
"Murph . . . Murph, I need ta talk ta ya . . ."
Murphy furrowed his eyebrows in slight confusion and interest as he looked up towards his brother standing beside him, hand curled on the bar. The glass of Guinness was held inches from his lips and after a moment of gazing at him, he slowly nodded.
"Yeah . . . yeah, what 'bout?"
Connor stood there for a moment and nervously moved from foot-to-foot for a moment. He glanced at an anxious looking Doc standing across from them behind the bar, to Romeo sitting next to Murphy. Eventually, he began, and when he did, it was with a sigh and a shaking of his head.
"Murph, me and Branna got married today."
Murphy gave a laugh and a grin. "Ya pullin' ma leg? Branna Whelan, gettin' hitched?" He continued to laugh as he glanced at Doc, who merely gave him a small, still nervous smile. He shook his head then and finally took a gulp of his beer. "Yeah, nice try, Conn." Connor shook his head, adopting an apologetic look on his face.
"Murph, I ain't pullin' ya leg, brotha . . ."
Murphy gazed at him for a moment before his eyes widened. He glanced at Doc, saw the apologetic look echoing on the old man's face, and then cursed. "Shit, ya ain' lyin', are ya?" Connor shook his head and the crash of glass as Murphy's glass slipped from his hand to the floor as he jumped to his feet, was almost deafening. "Conn, what tha Hell?"
"And tha's not all," He spoke, and Murphy let out a breathy little laugh.
"Tha's not all? What else is there? She's pregnant? She had a kid?"
He gave another laugh but at the look on his brother's face, his own expression falling into one of slack dumbfoundedness. He shook his head. "She's . . . she's pregnant?" He asked, and Connor shook his head.
"No, she's not pregnant as far as I know. But . . . we do have a son, Murph. Sean. He's . . ." He looked away after burying his hands deep in his pockets. Then he gave a shrug. "He looks the spitting image of me."
Murphy stood there for a moment, numbly shaking his head as his eyes remained widened in shock. Connor turned his gaze back from Doc to Romeo, and back again, before resettling them onto Murphy. When he did, however, he saw a curled fist flying towards his nose.
Pain exploded across his face and immediately, he crashed against the bar, upending a few barstools before he finally plopped down onto someone. The thick, coppery taste of blood filled his mouth and for a moment, he was blinded by both tears and pain. Vaguely, he heard the bell above the door give a merry jingle as the door was open, and when he touched his fingers to his nose, he gave a cry at the amount of pain that erupted from his nose again, his mouth again filling with the blood that streaked down from his nose. He heard a frightened: "Connor!" Fill his ears before the scent of gardenias filled his broken nose. Branna. Branna was here.
"Shit, mavourneen . . .!" He croaked, and she nodded before sending a frightened look towards her grandfather.
"Bag of ice, grandda, please?" She asked him, and Doc hurried nodded before he grabbed up a plastic bag. He then opened up the beer cooler and filled the bag with cubes of ice. Tying it, he handed it to her and she took it with a grateful smile before returning to Connor. "Connor, macushla, let me see . . ." She cooed before finally getting him to lower his hands. He shook his head, his eyes still hopelessly watering with tears but the pain now a little bit manageable. "Ya socked him a good one, Murph. Maybe blackened both eyes . . ." She told him with a look thrown over her shoulder, and barely registered the look of horror on Murphy's face as he took the scene before him, in.
"Bran . . . where's Sean?" He asked, his voice coming out slightly muffled from the bag of ice his shaking hand was pressing to his nose. He was answered by his son's small, slightly apprehensive voice coming from beside him.
"I'm right here, da . . ." He spoke, and Connor couldn't help but let out a grin and a laugh that hurt more than he thought it would.
"Don' worry, Sean, this is jus' how angry Irishmen tell each other they love each other." He told him with another laugh. Branna let out a sound of indignation while slapping him on the chest, while Murphy continued to stand there, pinwheeling between horror and dumbfoundedness. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the thin gold bands on their wedding fingers – at the little boy whose father he had just punched into seeing birdies and who did indeed look remarkably like his brother.
And then his eyes fell onto Branna still hovering over Connor, a look of worry on her face as she occasionally helped him steady the bag of ice. "Branna?"
The word came out as a croak, and when Branna settled her gaze onto Murphy standing behind them. She saw Sean turned a curious gaze onto him as well, as his mother gave a bewildered shake of her head. "Murphy, how could ya -"
She came to an abrupt stop when Murphy marched over to her and took her into his arms in a tight hug. She stood there, her turn to be dumbfounded, before slowly returning his hug. She felt him shake his head against her. "Branna . . . Jesus, I've missed ya . . ."
"Murph, stop." She told him, her voice harsher than she originally wanted it to be, as she gently pushed him away. He sent her a look of alarm as she shook her head. "A lot of tings 'ave changed since tha' two of ya 'ave been gone, Murph – ya need ta know tha'. A lot of tings 'ave chanced since tha' two of ya arrived back, too." She sighed. "I know why ya punched him. I know why ya angry, and I admit, we should 'ave told ya sooner, but –"
His eyes levelling on Sean, caused to her to come to an immediate stop. She glance over her shoulder at her son now helping to occasionally steady the ice pack on his dad's nose in Branna's stead. "Jesus, he looks like him . . ." Murph breathed, and Branna nodded as she self-consciously crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"Yeah . . . yeah, I know. His name is Sean. Sean Connor MacManus." She told him, and Murphy glanced at her.
"How do ya know he's not mine?" He asked, his tone a little more accusing than she liked, and Branna clenched her teeth.
"Paternity test. It came back as Connor's. That and just look at him. You don't look that much like a man when he's just your uncle." Murphy nodded and his jaw hardened as he glanced away for a moment. When he turned back to gaze at her, she couldn't meet it. Something inside her, kept her from meeting his gaze. "Murphy, I -"
"Save it, creena. It's always been jus' ya and Conn in ya little world built for fuckin' two – now three. I know when I'm no longer wanted." He snapped before turning around and marching off towards the doorway situated at the back of the bar – the doorway that Branna knew would take him up to the second floor of the bar. Branna watched him go, torn between staying where she was, and following him up. Eventually, before she could even register her feet were moving, she was following him, heart pounding in her chest. She reached and moved up the very same steps he had, her heels clicking on the wood where his boots had pounded, and opened the door without even knocking. He was by the pool table, hunched over its green felt surface, head buried in his crossed arms.
She stood there uncertainly for a moment, briefly recognizing when she wasn't wanted, but something kept her there all the same. And when she spoke, her voice was quiet and uncertain – almost like she was afraid he could snap at any moment. "Murphy . . . Murph, I'm so sorry!"
"Ya know how much it fuckin' hurts lovin' someone but knowin' ya tha' third wheel – tha' ya could never compare to someone else?" He suddenly spoke up, his voice coming out in a snarl as he pushed himself away from the pool table. She swallowed heavily as he turned and walked away from her a few steps. His back to her, he breathed heavily for a moment before turning back around and moving back over to her. "I love ya too, Branna! I hurt too when we escaped to Ireland. I thought 'bout ya every single day -"
"Oh, well tha' didn' keep ya from movin' on wit other girls ya picked up at tha' pub, now did it?" She interrupted him, her tone freezing cold, and Murphy recoiled as if she had slapped him. His eyes widened, and she nodded, anger coming across her face as she propped her hands up on her hips. "Yeah, tha's right – I heard everything from Connor. Connor couldn' move on, Murph, and ya know it. He suffered 'cause he wasn' wit me – every time he told me he loved me, I knew it was true, 'cause he couldn' move on! But how can I know ya were tellin' tha' truth, Murphy? Didn' seem like ya loved me too much, considerin' ya were already playin' tha' field a couple of days after touchin' down on Irish soil!" He shook his head.
"Branna, please . . .!"
She shook her head. "No, Murph, don'! I know ya hurt – I know we should have told ya sooner, but . . ." She trailed off and let out a laugh. "Ya know what? Jus' . . . jus' forget it. I'm not dealin' wit this right now. I'm not dealin' wit this anymore!" She threw up her hands in defeat then, shaking her head as she did so. "I've made my choice. It should be clear as day who I chose. I'm not differentiatin' from tha'."
She turned and moved off towards the door but a snort of laughter from Murphy, caused her to stop. "Why, 'cause Conn purposefully made himself suffer 'cause of somethin' he done? 'Cause he forced himself ta be celibate for eight fuckin' years?" He asked, and Branna's eyes hardened as she glared at him.
"At somethin' tha' three of ya did. Like I told him, you guys didn' 'ave ta kill Yakavetta on TV. Tha two of ya didn' 'ave ta become vigilantes – didn' 'ave ta become fugitives. Tha' both of ya could've stayed wit me, we could 'ave . . ." She trailed off and swallowed hard. "But it's no use thinkin' of tha' past when we can do nothin' ta change it," She shook her head then. "And for ya information, no, I didn' choose Conn jus' 'cause he managed to remain. . . celibate, for seven years, although it does . . . add a certain brevity to his defense. It's 'cause even now – in everything he does - he seems ten times as more genuine, than tha' one hug you gave me down there, did," Her eyes softened then as she shook her head again. "We were never right for each other, Murph, ya know tha'. Yeah, we got along, yeah, we loved each other, but . . . it's like ya said – it was always been me and Conn. I loved ya – I wanted ta be wit ya, but at tha end of tha day, ya said it yaself – it was always Connor. And . . . I'll always love ya, Murph, but . . ." She trailed off again and shook her head. "I have a son now. I have a husband now – a family. I can' . . . I couldn' handle doin' all tha' again. I couldn' put Sean through tha'. Havin' two da's seems awesome in theory but when ya son goes ta a school full of Irish Catholics, it . . ." She let out a laugh. "It's like playin' wit fire and not expectin' ta get burned!"
It took a moment, but eventually, Murphy gave a jerky nod as he shoved his hands down into the front pockets of his jeans. "Yeah . . . yeah, it sucks, but I know." He looked away then and stayed silent for a moment. "Can I jus' . . . can I be alone for a moment?" Branna nodded.
"O' course." She spoke, and he nodded. She stood there, awkwardly for a moment, not knowing whether to hug him or not, but eventually decided not to. So, instead, she gave him a small, slightly uncertain smile, before turning and leaving. Closing the door quietly behind her, she slowly descended the stairs to the bar. Hushed words were being spoken but came to an immediate stop when she joined them. Connor was sitting at the bar now, in Murphy's vacated seat, the bag of melting ice in front of him. His nose was swollen and she was right – both eyes had definitely been blackened. Sean was sitting on the bar beside him, Romeo on his other side and Doc across from them. All of them looked up when she entered, and Branna shot Connor a small smile.
"Oh woof!" She spoke, and he nodded.
"Yeah, tell me 'bout it . . ." He muttered, and Branna continued to smile as she moved over to him. Shifting in his seat, Branna wasted no time in climbing onto his lap like she had always done when they would come down to hang out at Doc's. With a hand gently appearing on his cheek, she turned his head sideways so that she could look at it. She grimaced.
"Yeah, tha' looks painful . . ." She spoke, and Connor gave another nod.
"Yeah, it does!" He spoke, and Branna smiled at Sean as she turned her gaze onto Romeo sitting beside them. Her smile brightened somewhat.
"I'm Branna." She told him, and he nodded.
"I figured that. I'm Romeo, Connor's girlfriend."
Immediately, Branna adopted an extremely confused look on her face before Connor chuckling, brought her attention onto him. "Mind explanin'?" She asked, and Connor shook his head as he continued chuckling:
"I gave Rome a gun tha' was a little embarrassin', and . . . well, yeah, now he's taken to callin' himself ma girlfriend." He told her, and Branna slowly nodded as Romeo sent her a grin and a wink. After a moment, she gave a tight smile and held out her hand, where they shook.
"Well . . . it's an honor to meet the other woman in Connor's life." She spoke, and Rome grinned again.
"And it's nice finally meetin' the bottom bitch!"
Branna couldn't help but smile as Connor descended into a burst of laughter and as Sean adopted a slightly confused look on his face. "Da, what's a 'bottom bitch'?" Sean asked, and it was then that Branna adopted a scandalized look on her face before sending him a very reprimanding: "Sean!" Connor's laughter deepened as Romeo continued to grin and pointed at Branna.
"It's what ya mom is, little guy!"
"Romeo!"
"Oh, mavourneen," Connor spoke as he slowly stopped laughing. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her slightly closer as he grinned. "Ya know I'd comfort ya if I could - all night long, too! I'd do it on top of ya, beside ya, under ya and behind ya if ya'd let me . . .!"
"Connor! Sean is right there!"
"Yeah, man, we don't wanna hear all that!" Romeo spoke with a shake of his head, and Connor continued to laugh as Branna sent him a freezing look.
"Connor, do ya wanna get punched again?" She asked, and he grinned and shook his head.
"Please no, my nose still hurts!"
"Then shut up!"