all the words to what's unspoken

"I trust you."

From the look on Connor's face, those three words meant everything. If only Elena could've said the words that still pulled at her heart, something deep left unspoken.

Not now.

She blinks, pushing that moment aside as Johnny Beck thumbs through a file folder. The air inside Saint Christopher's feels both familiar and foreign. She glances over at the confessional booth, remembering that day Smecker came back from the dead and asked her to help the MacManus brothers. He stopped short of saying, "The Saints are calling you." For a while, it started to feel like that, a calling, but not for the reasons she expected.

"How can ye be sure?" Murphy asks the New York cop, referring to Obsidian's involvement with the fire at Saint Agnes.

"Because they sent this message as confirmation," Beck explains, pulling out a torn piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to the twins.

Connor's eyebrows pinch together as he reads the cop's handwriting aloud. "We will not remain in darkness. Our time has come to punish those who threaten our vision, our purpose. We will control our destiny."

An unnerving chill runs down Elena's spine. She locks her eyes with Connor's, desperately trying to hold onto what little faith she has left in this world. He had expressed his concern back at the motel room in New York, that he wasn't sure if they could trust Beck to help. But despite everything, Elena knew one thing: she trusted Connor. She trusted whatever decision he'd make, him and his brother both.

She observes the three men discussing how to catch the Obsidian agents responsible for the fire. Beck mentions a meet-up planned in Boston, and that there's a rumor that some Russian oligarch might be involved. Connor looks for Elena's reaction, worry washing over his features. But Nikolai is dead, while the rest are rotting in prison, so she has no reason to worry about the Russians anymore.

"What are ye going to do?" Connor asks Beck cautiously.

The cop twists his mouth into a nervous smile. "I'm going to do whatever it takes to destroy these sons-of-bitches." He rubs at his jaw, then extends his hand to Connor. "You all be careful out there."

Connor accepts the gesture of goodwill. "Aye. Ye as well."

Beck shakes hands with Murphy, then hesitates when he looks at Elena, a strange uncertainty on his face. He opens his mouth, clearly struggling to form something to say. Elena drops her shoulders, her eyes softening as his voice strains quietly. "I'm so sorry."

Swallowing, she mutters, "Me too." As she shifts her weight and crosses her arms over her chest, she tense up again, not out of anger but out of sheer defeat. Even if they can take out the men responsible, it won't fix anything. They can't change what's already been done. But they can keep it from happening again. Hopefully.

As Beck leaves, Murphy and Connor share a look and then turn back to Elena. "Ye alright, lass?" Murphy asks, his brow furrowed just enough to show concern.

She rubs her hand along her arm, not sure how to answer because the truth is that she is and she isn't. "I will be," she offers calmly.

"Elena…" The way Connor says her name still causes her pupils to dilate despite everything that's been happening. "Ye don't have to do this. Murph and I will take care of it."

She knows he's not trying to push her away. But she wants to ensure they're safe, that nothing else will break her heart. Especially since she's still hanging on to those moments with Connor…those moments had and those moments still to be.

Suddenly, a hand grabs a hold of Elena's hair at the back of her head, pulling her hard. She yelps out in pain as she grabs at the hand and struggles to break free. But a gun is pressed to her neck, and Connor and Murphy both freeze, afraid to make any sudden movements.

"Put the guns down," the man orders. The boys do as told, very slowly, and hold their empty hands out, palms splayed to confirm they're unarmed. Elena's eyes dart between the brothers, watching Murphy glare at the attacker, but the fear she sees in Connor's features makes her stomach drop. Fuck. I broke him.

"Don't worry, Beck's going to disappear," the man sneers, tightening his grip on Elena. "Hell of a mess he made, though."

Connor and Murphy stand still, their faces twitching with adrenaline. "Then what do ye want with us?" Connor asks, almost holding his breath as he keeps his eyes on Elena.

"You're going to disappear as well…starting with her." The man laughs, his breath hot against Elena's hair. "Maybe you'll finally get to see your God that you love so much."

She feels the pulse in her neck beat hard against the cold metal, knowing one wrong move and this fucker will kill her right there. As a spy, that's the risk she'd been willing to take over the years because everything she did was for the greater good. But now, she's not sure if there is a greater good anymore. And she's afraid. Terrified. Now she has something to lose…and he stares at her with those MacManus-blue eyes.

Elena locks her eyes with his, holding his gaze as she talks to him without talking. And then there's that look.

That look when he finally opened up to her in prison.

That look that stared back at her in the rearview mirror.

That look as the last seconds ticked away on that bomb, just before he kissed her.

That look in the morning sunlight as she woke up in his arms.

That look just after she told him, "I trust you."

That look he gives when they're about to take a chance on something together.

She feels the slightest shift in the man's grip on her, and she pulls at his gun-wielding arm hard, throwing his body around her to Connor.

He wrestles the man to the floor, punching him across the face and grabbing his gun. Murphy picks up his weapon and twists his body to cover behind them, watching the doors to the narthex Beck had disappeared through moments ago…his body now probably dragged off somewhere to erase his very existence. Elena points Connor's gun in her left hand at the man and holds her Glock in the other, aimed in the general direction of the altar.

Connor pins the man down, every muscle in his body tightening as he presses the man's gun between his eyes. It's almost a relief to see Connor back to his old self, who he was before Elena came into his life…the man who had to hide his feelings in order to survive.

"I'm gonna fucking deliver ye to whichever God will take ye, motherfucker," Connor hisses, anger flushing his face.

The man smiles an evil grin. "And blood will always be on your hands."

Elena looks around with wide eyes, a sinking feeling growing in her gut. "Connor," she says his name with anxiety vibrating on her tongue. She looks at the Virgin Mary shrine, then down to the same outline inked on Connor's neck. He can't do this, not here, not in a church…

Connor pulls the hammer back on the gun, his tattooed finger sliding over the trigger.

Elena repeats his name with more urgency. He tightens his grip on the man pinned under him, and just as he turns his head toward Elena, a gunshot rings out, ripping through the church.

The sound sends everyone to the floor, with Murphy taking cover between pews and Elena dropping to her hands and knees in front of the lectern, Connor throwing himself over her simultaneously.

But his fast decision, chivalrous as it was, has a split-second consequence when the man grabs at Connor, wrestling him for the gun. As the man succeeds in stealing back his weapon, Elena quickly tosses Connor his Beretta. One shot between the eyes…Connor kills him without hesitation.

Bullets fly around them, piercing the walls and shattering the stained glass as men dressed in all black surround the Saints.

Connor signals to Murphy that he's going to draw their fire, making a run for the back of the church by the baptismal basin while his brother kills the men along the wall. Elena hides behind a column and fires at the figures threatening Murphy's blindside. He yells for her to duck, and he shoots the man approaching her. Murphy drops out of sight, yelling for his twin as the gunfire slows. "Murph! Elena!" she hears Connor shout.

More shots. Elena moves to the transept wall. Another man approaches Murphy. And with a quick breath, Elena fires again, killing the last man standing as a scary silence sinks over them.

She falls back against the wall, sliding down until she's sitting with her knees up as she exhales. On the other side of the pulpit she sees Murphy, crouched down and out of breath as he crosses himself. He looks at her, exhausted but seemingly okay, and she nods slightly.

The damage done around them is stomach-turning, that a place of worship could so quickly turn into hell on earth. Elena takes a deep breath, her eyes scanning around as she leans her head back against the wall. "Connor?" she yells and waits a moment, expecting his voice to call back immediately and reassure her he's alright.

Nothing.

And suddenly, nothing else matters.

Elena runs around the column and down the length of the church, but everything seems to move in slow-motion. Her heart drops when she sees him on the floor, bleeding and barely moving. She hears nothing, not even her own voice, as she falls to her knees at Connor's side. She doesn't even feel Murphy come up right behind her.

Oh God, his brother. This can't be happening.

Her hands frantically search his torso, feeling blood spilling at the right side of his abdomen. She presses her palm hard against the wound, and Connor's eyes squeeze shut in pain. Elena quickly moves her other hand to his face, rubbing his cheek and saying his name over and over and over again. "Connor! Stay with me!" she pleads, urging his blue eyes to look at her. But his eyelids keep fluttering, squeezing again as the pain courses through him.

The edges of everything start to blur, and Elena feels the sting of salt in her eyes. She blinks hard, pushing the tears out to see Connor clearly. She hears Murphy repeatedly echo his name, feeling his hand slide in with some torn piece of fabric over the gaping hole that mars his twin. "Elena, we gotta get him outta here, now!"

She nods, quickly looking back to Connor's eyes as they close completely, his face falling limp in her hand. She throws her other hand up, holding his head as she cries his name, begging, pleading, praying. She rubs his cheeks, smearing his own blood against his paling skin, desperately trying to wake him up.

"He's still breathing," Murphy chokes out as he shifts his body, preparing to lift Connor. "We really gotta go," his voice is urgent yet full of fear.

Elena rubs Connor's face once more. Nothing. She cries out, louder, harder, but she can't hear anything, and she feels her soul get swallowed up in the deafening silence.

Nothing else matters. Only Connor.