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14 September 2010 @ 07:08 pm
[drabbles] Fourt Stories about Death & One about Something In Between  
Name: Four Stories about Death & One about Something In Between
or: Three things Connor can handel, one thing he can't and one he must.
Author: MJ / Grave
Beta: All Mistakes are my own. Eat them.
Fandom: Crossover: Boondock Saints, Inception
Rating: PG
Warning: Death, Drama, Love (My favorite Combination)
Pairing: Connor/Murphy, Arthur/Eames (if you squint very hard and know what's behind it.)

Word Count: 764 Words
Disclaimer: You get my first born, ay?
Deidacted to: Noah, as always, because no one will understand this story anyway!
A/N: No one will understand those drabbles, because they are based on a RPG. Just needed to post them somewhere!



Connor does not think about his own death. Someday he will die and his mother taught him that God will decide about what happens to him. He has nothing to regret and he has Faith in Him.
So when a gun is put to his head and the finger forms around the trigger, he closes his eyes, prays and thanks, and waits for it.
Therefore, while everyone around him wakes up crying or at least gasping, he is calm, searches the eyes of his brother, finds them so naturally, and reflects the grin.
There will be nothing to be afraid of.

---


Connor would say something if his lungs were not overflowing with blood. He would say something along the lines: Just shoot, I will be there on the other side. Or something else more witty.
It hurts like hell. He feels himself dying slowly and his shaking hand pressed to his chest won’t change anything or help to keep all that damned blood in. He tries to smile, but fails. This is not real and he knows it. Without hesitation he would kill himself if he could. Death became an easy concept.
He hears someone – Arthur? – say “You have to shoot.” and he sees Murphy trembling violently, the gun shaking in his hands and Connor feels terrible for it. He wants to apologize.
When he wakes up, stunned, he is pulled in Murphy’s arms a second later. He holds him for a long time.

---

Connor does not think about his own death and he cannot think about Murphy’s death. It is a concept his brain cannot quite fathom. Though one thing he knows for sure: The day Murphy dies will be the day he dies too. They came to life together and they will leave it together.
Nothing could have prepared him for that feeling, when it happens. Years after, it will be the only thing that comes to him when he still sleeps. Dreams left him long ago, but this nightmare will probably never fade.
He can remember himself screaming. He can remember screaming so loud his lungs might split. He can remember someone twice his size barely being able to hold him back as he struggled, struggled to get to Murphy. He couldn’t see anymore, he couldn’t hear anymore, he couldn’t feel anymore. He can remember screaming Murphy and God and No and Kill me, oh God, kill me. The pain. The pain. Nothing could prepare him for that pain. In this moment Connor knew that he would never be afraid of dying. Because there was something worse.
Kill me! he screamed through tears, he didn’t know what language he was using.
He wakes up and shakes. He cannot remember a lot of what happened afterwards. Just that he almost ripped his rosary from his neck and pressed his thumb in the notch. He remembers Eames kneeing in front of him – he was probably whispering soothing words, stroking his back with a warm, worried look, maybe he told Arthur to Go, get Murphy, fast!
On this day, something broke in him. Irrevocably. (He heard Eames telling Arthur that much.) After that day, Connor wouldn’t dream anymore and sleep wouldn’t come easily. Sometimes he would look at Murphy, wondering.

---


Connor hated himself, despised himself to the very core, when he was forced to shoot Murphy. It was not real. Murphy would wake up in reality and still it would tear him apart.
At the same time it gave him control back. It gave him a kind of control that he needed desperately to keep himself sane. He would never let any projection, any mark, hurt his brother. It would always be him claiming the right to put a bullet in Murphy’s head. It felt like suicide and punishment.

---


Connor cannot dream anymore and most of the time he cannot sleep anymore. He will stare at ceilings and lie wide awake.
Murphy will be awake with him. They would lie in separate beds or in one bed. Naked, touching or not touching. Often Murphy will press kisses to his shoulder and sometimes he will ask Connor about what he is so afraid of. Though Murphy knows the answer to that. Sometimes Murphy will ask him to stop. Though Murphy knows that Connor could never stop.
Connor will just listen to their breath in tandem, in one hand his rosary, in the other Murphy’s hand. It has to be enough.
 
 
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