Featuring Connor and Murphy McManus from The Boondock Saints, Sam and Dean from Supernatural, and, of course, Cal and Niko: a peek into what might happen if my three favorite pairs of brothers were thrown together. May or may not be continued.


The terminal was practically deserted, which was pretty unusual as far as I knew. I'd always pictured airports as really crowded places, and the only other time I'd been in one, it had been crawling with people. But right now, the place was fucking empty except for me, Nik, four other guys, a flight attendant, and a girl working at the Orange Julius. We were at Logan International Airport in Boston, Massachusetts, and our plane back to New York was friggin' delayed, and had been for about an hour now. Niko and I had been trying to track down Rafferty, spending Robin's Christmas gift of two plane vouchers and following a lead that our healer may be around Boston, but if he was, we hadn't found him, and we were now on our way home. Or, we would be, if the plane would ever get off the ground. It was like three in the morning, but I couldn't sleep. For one thing, Niko wouldn't let me, seeing as how we were in an unknown place with big, scary strangers, but also because of the damn lightning storm going on outside, brilliantly displayed by the huge walls of glass that the architect of the building had confused with windows.

The flight attendant was leaning on the high counter that they used as a desk, typing something on her computer every few minutes. She was half-asleep by now, having been forced into working the graveyard shift by the delay and her coworker going into labor and leaving her alone with us. She'd been wary of us in the beginning, I could tell by the way she had kept her eyes trained on us, and her hand trained on the panic button that was hidden beneath the counter, just out of view, but after a while she'd given in to being tired, and had accepted the fact that we were going to leave her alone.

The Orange Julius girl, however, had helped herself to several samples of the drink she was selling, and was currently buzzed on a sugar high, enthusiastically texting on her cell phone at fifty words a second. She was thoroughly ignoring us, and that was fine by me.

The other people in the terminal were paired off in twos. Two of the men were in one corner, the other two against the wall furthest away from anyone else, and Nik and I were on the other side of the waiting area. Even though I couldn't sleep, I was stretched out on the floor in front of Nik, who was keeping watch from one of the hard metal chairs that were bolted to the airport floor. He nudged me with his toe every so often to make sure I stayed awake, but other than that, we didn't speak. There really wasn't anything to say—the plane was delayed, we were stuck, we were broke, and there wasn't anything we could do about any of it. We couldn't afford a hotel room, and all the lodging coupons that the airline offered in times like these had been given out to the families with kids and elderly, so we were confined to the terminal for the night. I felt like Tom friggin' Hanks.

The thunder had finally taken a break, and I was just about asleep when Niko kicked me in the back. I groaned and sat up to glare at him.

"That was uncalled for," I complained.

He nodded his head toward the two men who had been sitting against the wall. One of them had stood up, and was making his way toward us. Niko reached down and patted my shoulder, signaling me to get up. I took a seat in the chair next to him, stretching as I assessed the man that was walking toward us. He didn't look like much of a danger, and his stance wasn't threatening or anything. He was just walking over to say hi, it looked like. "Maybe people in Boston are friendlier than in New York," I muttered to Nik.

He gave a miniscule shrug. "Perhaps," he said, but I knew he wasn't letting his guard down.

"Mind if I take a seat?" the man asked, gesturing to the row of chairs directly across from our own. He had an accent—British or Irish or some shit like that.

Niko didn't move, so I shook my head for him. The man nodded his thanks and sat down.

"Me name's Murphy," he offered, holding out a hand.

I gave Nik a quick glance, knowing that he couldn't blatantly ignore the manners that he'd drilled into not only me, but himself as well. He shook Murphy's hand. "Niko," he offered quietly. He inclined his head toward me as I shook his hand too, "my brother Cal," Nik said.

"Pleasure," Murphy said, stifling a yawn. He gestured vaguely over his shoulder to the man he had left sitting on the other side of the room. "An' that's me brother Conner o'er there," he said, and I decided that the accent was Irish.

"He not feeling as friendly as you?" I asked, earning myself a well-aimed kick to the ankle from Niko. Murphy didn't seem to take offense though, because the corner of his mouth curled up.

"Aye, he couldn't be bothered from his nap," he said, rolling his eyes.

"See Nik," I said, "some people don't feel the need to wake up their brothers the second they fall asleep."

Niko raised a sly eyebrow, but didn't comment. Murphy, however, grinned. "He'd probably take me head off if I tried. Fucking lazy bastard," he said good-naturedly.

"Now that sounds familiar," Niko said, forming a small grin of his own.

"Are yeh two from around here?" Murphy asked.

Another glance to Niko gave me his consent to be honest. "No," I answered, "we live in New York."

"Aye? The Big Apple. So yeh're headed home, then?"

"That was the plan," Niko said, "but whether or not we'll ever get there remains to be seen."

Murphy nodded. "Tha's a fact. I'm beginning ta think we'll be stuck here forever, which is a real shame seeing as how the walls are such an unpleasant color."

I snorted, amused. "Well, the carpet's not much help either."

Murphy looked down and gave a disgusted grimace. He ran his hand over the flooring. "Yeh call tha' carpet? Feels more like sandpaper."

I rubbed the spot on my elbow where I'd gotten carpet burn and nodded ruefully. "So what about you? Do you live here?"

"Aye. Connor an' I moved here a few years ago from Ireland."

"Living the American dream, then?"

Murphy gave me a knowing grin. "Fuck," he said cheerfully. "We're butchers in a fucking slaughterhouse in South Boston. It's not exactly…glamorous."

I grinned, nodding.

"What about yeh?" Murphy asked.

"I'm a bartender."

"Well booze trumps dead meat, eh?"

"Depending on who you ask," I said. We sat in silence for a few minutes after that, having run out of small talk. Murphy had pulled a rosary necklace from under his shirt, and was fingering the beads. I gave a confused look to Niko, but he shook his head ever so slightly. Don't ask, don't tell, I guess. In other words, it was none of my business. Sighing, I settled down in the seat, trying to make myself comfortable. It didn't work. Just when I was about to screw manners and get back down on the floor again, Niko elbowed me in the side. Murphy's brother, Connor, I guess, was now coming over.

"I fall asleep for two fucking minutes, and yeh decide to become fucking sociable?" he asked in the same thick Irish accent, lowering himself into the seat beside Murphy.

"Aye. Watching yeh sleep isn't all that yeh make it out ta be," Murphy said.

"Who're yehr friends?" Connor asked, turning toward Nik and me.

"This here's Cal, and tha's his brother Niko."

Connor nodded. "Connor McManus. So I guess we're all stuck here together, then?"

"Looks like it," I said. I could feel that Niko was tense—when it was just Murphy, it was no big deal, but now there were two of them, and it was obvious that they could take care of themselves. There were several visible tattoos on each of them, complimented by the numerous scars they had.

Murphy rubbed his eyes. "Christ. I need a fucking smoke."

Connor glanced at the very obvious 'No Smoking' sign that was posted on the wall, but didn't comment when Murphy lit up. "Yeh want one?" Murphy offered, holding out the pack to us.

"No, thank you," Niko answered politely for the both of us. Murphy just shrugged and held one out to Connor.

"What about yeh?" he asked.

Connor glanced at us, then back at the cigarette. "Aye," he said. He stood up very pointedly, kicking Murphy's foot when he didn't follow. With a slight groan, Murphy hoisted himself up and followed his brother a few feet away from us.

I raised an eyebrow at Niko. "What are you thinking?" I asked.

"If three's a crowd, then what's four?"

I snorted. "You're so asocial, Nik. You need to work on your friend-making skills."

"Oh, do I?" he said, mirroring my raised eyebrow. "Do you remember the last time we extended the hand of friendship to a stranger?"

"No…" I said, not following.

"Think puck," he said.

I smirked. "Oh. Right. But that was different. You haven't even pulled a knife on these guys yet. That should count for something."

Niko snorted. "What makes you think I even have a knife? We're in an airport."

Right, like I would buy that. "I know that you have a knife. I don't know how, but I'd bet on it that you have at least two sharp and pointy things stashed somewhere on your body."

Niko didn't get a chance to reply before Connor and Murphy made their way back toward us. They were laughing, and Connor—at least, I think it was Connor; I couldn't really tell them apart—had his arm slung around Murphy's shoulder.

"Well," Connor said, turning toward me and Nik. "It was mighty fine meeting yeh. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other around, yeah?"

He laughed at his own joke, seeing as how it was impossible not to 'see each other around' in the open terminal. Murphy snorted and swatted Connor on the head. "Christ's fucking sake," he muttered, shaking his head at his brother's antics. "See yeh," he said to us, walking away with Connor.

We watched them move back to their wall, Murphy pushing Connor around, trying to get into a comfortable position. I guess it was his turn for a nap.

I gave Niko a pointed look. "May I go back to sleep now?"

Niko rolled his eyes but didn't make a move to stop me, so I took that for a 'yes'. Groaning, I lowered myself onto the floor again, this time positioning myself in front of Nik, leaning back against his legs. It wasn't the most comfortable position ever, and it wasn't laying down, but it was enough for me to be able to close my eyes and pretend like I was sleeping. The thunder had started up again, and it was louder than what anyone would consider necessary.

I kind of had a thing about storms. I wasn't scared of them, but they weren't my favorite thing either. They were just so loud, and so bright, and so wet…I couldn't fathom how anyone could appreciate those elements in nature.

A particularly bright bolt of lightning cut through the sky, the light of it burning red through my closed eyelids. I absently began to count the Mississippi's between the lightning and the next clap of thunder. I'd barely gotten halfway through the first Mississippi however when the thunder boomed, practically shaking the place. I jumped, a little, and my eyes shot open. Niko's hand found its way into my hair, and he tousled it fondly.

"Afraid of the thunder, Cal?" he asked, his tone light and teasing.

I shook my head. "No, but I wish it would let up sometime soon so that I could get some frigging sleep."

"Is that all you ever think about? Sleeping?"

I craned my neck to scowl up at my brother. "At three o'clock in the morning, god yes."

Niko gave a long-suffering sigh and lowered himself onto the floor as well, pushing me out of the way. "It is difficult to be comfortable in those chairs," he said blandly, as if he were the first person to comment on that.

I snorted. "No kidding."

Niko shifted, testing the ground. "It's not much better down here, is it?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Of course, it was, when I had something softer to lean against."

Nik took a swipe at my head, which I was too tired to deflect. I half-heartedly kicked his shoe in retaliation. This earned me an amused gust of air expelled from my brother's body, but nothing more.

"Is that all you've got?" he asked, egging me on.

I groaned. "Leave me alone, Nik. I don't want to spar. I want to—"

"Sleep," he finished for me. "I know."

For all the crap he gave me about sleeping too much, he finally gave in and let me use his shoulder as a pillow. Getting comfortable, I muttered, "Are you sure about this, Nik? People might think that you're my 'special' friend."

"I don't think we'll hear any comments from the peanut gallery on this one," he said, deadpanned, glancing around the room. I looked up too, and decided that I agreed with him. The two Irish brothers were both on the floor, so tangled up around each other that it was hard to tell where one left off and the other began. Still though, it was clear that any feelings between the two were strictly platonic—I should know, having spent so many years with a brother of my own. The other two men, on the other side of the room, were also on the floor. One was sitting against the chairs with his legs spread out in front of him, a laptop on his knees. The other had his head resting on the first's calves, sleeping. It's not like there was much else to do around the terminal.

"Hey," Niko said softly to get my attention. I looked at him, eyebrow raised. He nodded toward the two men on the other side of the room. The one with the laptop had shaken the other awake, and was talking on a cell phone, looking very worried. That wasn't the thing that had caught Nik's attention though. The man who had been asleep was now pulling Ziploc bags full of salt out of his carry-on, along with a few small bottles of water and a leather-bound book. "That's unusual," Niko commented.

"Yeah…" I said, only vaguely interested. My interest peaked, though, when the first man hung up his phone and began making his way toward me and Nik.

"Hi there," he said, pulling a badge out of his coat pocket. "I'm Officer Goodman, and that's my partner, Officer Smith, over there."

Niko held out his hand for the badge, which Goodman handed over after a moment's hesitation. "Is there a problem?" Niko asked, examining the ID, then handing it back.

"Well, not exactly, but I'm going to have to ask you to move to the other side of the terminal."

I exchanged a glance with Niko which told me that he wasn't buying this. "What the hell for?" I asked crankily, not particularly wanting to move, especially if this guy wasn't really a cop.

"I'm afraid that I can't tell you that just yet. I'm really going to need you to move over there now, though," he said, nodding toward not only the other side of the room, but the other side of the building.

"Oh, I really don't think so," I said, crossing my arms.

"You don't exactly have a choice. This is an emergency situation, and—"

"Alright, that's enough," Niko interjected. "We know that you aren't a legitimate member of the police force, so why don't you tell us what's really going on?"

"Sam!" 'Officer Smith' called to 'Officer Goodman'.

Goodman, or Sam, or whatever his name was, shot an annoyed glance at the other guy. "I'll be back," he muttered, then hurried over to Smitty.

I glanced at Niko, who was watching the retreating officer. "What the hell?" I asked.

Niko shook his head slightly. "I'm not sure. They're human?"

He was asking me if they smelled otherworldly or not. He'd be pissed if he knew that that thought had never even crossed my mind. I took a surreptitious sniff, hoping he wouldn't notice. The look he was giving me seemed to say that he had noticed, but I didn't call attention to it. "I'm pretty sure," I said.

"Do you think you could trouble yourself to change that 'pretty sure' to 'one hundred percent sure'?"

"Yeah. Sorry." I said this only because I still hadn't gotten any sleep and wasn't in the mood to try to bullshit my way out of it. Niko actually looked kind of surprised at my apology, and didn't say anything else about it. Maybe I should try this whole contrition thing more often—seems like it would save me a hell of a lot of lectures.

I glanced over to the two 'officers', who were talking heatedly. One of them gestured angrily toward us, and the shorter one gave Sam a little, not-so-friendly shove. Sam said something then sauntered off toward Conner and Murphy. The shorter man ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. It was a look I was well acquainted with from Niko, who was now watching Connor's and Murphy's reaction to the 'officer's' news. All three of them began walking toward us. We were getting very popular.

Connor nodded in greeting. "What do yeh two think about all this?"

"We think that we want to know the whole story before we do anything," Niko said.

Murphy nodded. "Aye." He turned to Sam, "Why don't yeh jus' tell us wha's going on Off'cer, and then we'll be more than willing ta cooperate."

Sam rubbed a hand down his face. "Look, the longer we stand here talking, the more danger we're in. Why don't you trust me, and let my partner and me take care of this? We'll explain everything after we're finished."

Niko merely raised an eyebrow, causing Sam to groan. His partner, or friend, or whoever was now making his way toward us.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

"We just want ta know wha's going on," Connor said.

"Well, that's strictly confidential, you understand, so if you'll just—"

"We've been through that," I interrupted. "And we know that you're not really cops, so if you want to let us in on the big secret…"

The shorter man turned to Sam and raised an eyebrow. "Dean," Sam hissed in warning.

"There isn't time," Dean, I guess, if that's really his name, said.

Niko was getting impatient, I could tell, and that really wasn't a good combination with the little sleep he was running on. I nudged his elbow with mine and he looked at me. Stay calm, I said silently, and he just smirked, as if the suggestion that he could be anything but calm was ludicrous.

Dean and Sam were having their own silent conversation, I noticed, and by the looks of Connor and Murphy, Nik wasn't the only one who was getting tired of not knowing what was going on. After a few tense seconds of waiting, Dean turned to us and spread his hands as if in apology.

"Here's the deal. We're going to tell you something, but time is of the essence, so we really just need you to accept and believe what we say without too many questions. Got it?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued in the same hard, brisk tone. "Basically, demons are real, and one is possessing that girl over there in the Orange Julius stand, and Sam and I need to exorcise it, so if you all could move your asses, then we could do our job and get on with our lives."

He and Sam shared a glance, then looked at us with twin expressions of raised eyebrows.

I looked at Nik. "Do you think…?"

Niko rubbed a hand over his mouth in his natural pondering stance. "It's possible," he said to me, then turned to Dean. "Can you prove it?"

"Aye," chimed in Murphy, causing Dean and Sam to stare at us like we had five heads, or like they expected us to stare at them like they had five heads, and then we didn't.

Dean was about to say something when Sam elbowed him. "We shouldn't push it."

Dean glanced at us, then back at Sam, then back at us, before regaining his composure and nodding. "Whatever. Sammy, you got the book?"

"For the exorcism?" At Dean's curt nod, Sam continued. "I don't need it. I memorized it the other day."

Dean snorted. "You 'memorized it the other day'? You were bored, so instead of surfing for porn or, hell, watching TV, you just memorized three pages of Latin?"

Sam shrugged a shoulder as if it were no big deal. "Yeah."

"Christ," Murphy interjected. "Tha's pretty impressive. Do yeh speak Latin?"

Sam and Dean shared another glance, which they apparently did any time one of us spoke and it wasn't in incredulity over this exorcism shit. "I've taken a few classes, but I'm not fluent or anything." He paused, and then, "Why? Do you?"

"Aye, Connor an' me both," Murphy said, as if it was no big deal. "Now about this exorcism. I've seen a lot of nasty things, but demons?"

Yeah, demons.