One Thing That Never Happened To Connor And Murphy McManus
Archive: let me know first, yes?
Rated: pg13
Warnings: AU – because it's one thing that never happened.
Fandom, Pairing: Boondock Saints, Gen: Connor McManus, Murphy McManus
Summary: One thing that never happened to Connor and Murphy McManus.
Disclaimer: not mine, never was mine, never will be mine. all is someone else's.
Word Count: 1,199
Authors Notes: I'm so totally stealing the idea of the "things that never happened" from a bunch of absolutely amazing authors. Set when the twins are teenagers, still in school, back in Ireland. Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine, and I'll fix them as I find them.


They were just inside the door when they saw the blood. The weather was near unbearable at this time of year, hot and sticky, but beautiful out. Their nicer clothes chaffed at them, stuck to them in the hot classrooms, making them shift constantly, no matter how much they tried to ignore it, and once they got home, they always changed into ragged, worn jeans and thin cotton tee-shirts.

This day had been the same. They'd changed quickly, then disappeared into the streets around their home, finding the coolest place to settle down and wait out the beautiful, but unrelenting hot evening. Sometimes they played cards, sometimes they talked, sometimes they did homework. Most of the time they just sat in silence, smoking if they had cigarettes, fidgeting if they didn't.

Once the heat began to recede they'd wander home, knowing their Ma would bitch and moan about them leaving with out talking to her, and bitch and moan about them missing dinner, and bitch and moan about her having to keep their dinner warm for them on such a hot day, then hug them both, and kiss them on the forehead before she'd find something else to bitch and moan about.

This time though, something was different as they walked in the door. They noticed it right away, causing them to tense. The first thing they noticed was that their Ma didn't start yelling as soon as the door slammed shut and the TV was off. Their Ma always watched TV before she went down to the pub to help out Uncle Seamus at night, no matter what kind of shit was playing that night.

Connor saw the blood first, but he didn't have time to point it out before Murphy saw it too. It was more than they'd seen since Murphy sliced his hand, back when their Da was teaching them to use a knife when they were eight or nine. Blood had been everywhere, and in the end he'd needed to go to the hospital for stitches and a blood transfusion. Murphy had refused to allow them to do anything until the doctors finally relented and le Connor be the donor, even though he wasn't near old enough to be considered for it, legally.

They both froze for a long moment before Connor turned his head just enough to see Murphy. His twin nodded, slipping that very same knife that had sliced him so bad from where he kept it hidden at in the back of jeans, and Connor silently brought his own out as well.

Their Ma was probably going to yell at them, berate them for even taking the knives out of the house with them, but at the moment it didn't matter. There was blood all over the kitchen and their Ma wasn't in sight, and she wasn't yelling down that she was alright, even though they'd slammed the door like they always did, and you could hear it from any place in the house.

Connor led them through the kitchen, both of them moving near silently, like their Da had taught them, and making sure to stay out of the blood. They didn't know why they bothered to take the time to stay out of the blood, but something in Connor told him they should, and he knew Murphy would follow his lead with out questioning him, at least not until after everything was done and they were sure their Ma was alright and they knew what all the blood was from.

Murphy put a hand on his shoulder, just a light touch, but Connor froze, listening.

"There innit a knife out, an' dinner innit ready, Connor," Murphy told him, his voice just a whisper, so low that it barely carried to his brother. Connor knew exactly what he meant by saying that, knew that their Ma would have had dinner ready an hour ago and that meant that this, whatever it was, had happened before that, and that since there was nothing lying around that their Ma could have accidentally done this on, that there was someone else around too.

For once in his life, Connor wished their Da was home more often, and that he wasn't off somewhere, doing something for other people, whatever it was he did. They knew it wasn't quite on the right side of the law, but then he didn't think any of their family did everything on the right side of the law. He hadn't ever really disliked his Da's job, not ever really questioned the need for him to be gone so much. He'd always enjoyed the tales from other place, like listening as his Da told them about America and Italy and England. But now he wished his Da would at the mine with all his friend's Da's, or at the bar with his Uncle Seamus, because that would mean that he was home now, instead of gone wherever he was this time.

The two crept forward, silently and carefully, and followed the blood up the stairs. It led down the short hall to the bathroom, and they knew that they were close to whatever was happening, causing their heart rates to speed up. Connor paused, for just a moment, and leaned into the hand that brushed his back, comforting both Connor and Murphy, before moving forward again.

He stopped in shock when he looked into the bathroom and saw the scene inside. His Da was sitting on the toilet, grimacing as his Ma stitched up a wound in his side, a wound that appeared to be the source of most of the blood.

Both boys relaxed then, realizing it wasn't their Ma that was hurt, and their knives returned to their waists with out a second thought. Connor didn't even turn to look at Murphy as they stepped into the doorway together.

"What the fuck happen'd?" he asked, his voice low, like Murphy's had been, but a little louder.

Both their Ma and Da looked up at them, but their Ma looked down again almost immediately and continued to stitch up their Da with out saying anything. He looked at them, attempting to hide the grimace of pain, but the twins knew him too well.

"Ah, lads," their Da looked back and forth between them, before he sighed, wincing slightly at their Ma pulled a stitch tight. "I 'ad a wee bit'a trouble on the job."

Connor's eyes narrowed and he could feel Murphy tense behind him. "Oh, aye?"

Their Da nodded, and went to reply, but Murphy cut him off. "Just what the fuck do ya do, then, Da?"

They watched as their Ma looked up at their Da, watched the silent conversation that took place, and watched as their Ma nodded slowly before she went back to stitching. Their Da sighed again, running a hand through his hair and causing their Ma to have to pause as the skin along the wound pulled.

They waited, side by side, for their Da to reply. When he did, they didn't expect it. They'd never have expected it. But deep inside, it made sense, it seemed right.

"I take care of evil, lads."