A Brother’s Trust
Author’s Note: A Boondock Saints fanfic. It’s based off of this picture, and how I interpreted it. (I had the original post, but I lost it. Please, someone link it to me if you can find it. I’ll keep searching.)
Connor’s hands shook as he dialed the phone. Blood smeared from his fingers across the keypad making the numbers barely visible. He brought the receiver to his ear and waited.
One ring – one which lasted for too long.
Two rings – and still no one answered.
Three rings – and then almost a fourth – when the familiar voice answered on the other end.
“Yeah,” he said.
“I need you to make the call,” Connor said.
“Connor,” the voice paused. “Now?”
“Are you sure? You know I’m only good for one call.”
“Yes dammit! Just make the fucking call!”
The Irishman pressed his arm against his mouth. Screaming was not safe, but it got through to the other end.
“Alright,” the other voice said. “You know where to meet me. Can you get there?”
“Aye, I can,” Connor replied much quieter that time, and he shut off the phone.
Connor’s hands where still shaking and still covered in blood – whose exactly he was unsure of. He tried to wipe it on his pants and then fell to his knees. With a trembling hand he crossed himself and whispered a quick prayer.
From there, Connor had little time to waste. “Murphy,” he said as he knelt beside his brother. “I’m going to get us some help, alright?” He patted his brother’s hair. “Okay Murph? You’re going to be okay.” Connor hoisted Murphy over his shoulders then and hurried away from the blood soaked and bullet ridden scene.