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Saints or Martyrs?	By : cheryl64 Category: 1 through F > Boondock Saints Views: 1433 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own The Boondock saints and I'm not getting paid either

Chapter List
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Eunice and Juan had carried the party to the twin's apartment and they were all gathered in the kitchen. Juan and Eunice were sitting at the table. Connor had dragged a beat up ottoman into the room and set it against the cabinets while Murphy was perched on the counter. The boys were telling the two the story of how they had met Smecker which of course included Connor's unbelievable feat of the 'toilet drop'.
“Carrying a toilet I can see, but ripping one out of the floor?” Eunice said. “That means you had to rip it apart from the plumbing!”
“I don't know how but I just did it.” Connor answered as he padded back from the fridge with another round of beer. “I didn't have much choice. The Russian bastard was going ta shoot Murph, in tha head.”
“I don't think I ever prayed so hard in me life.” Murphy said. “I knew how it would feel if if I was in Connor's place. We've been together since we were in tha womb.” Murphy gulped down a mouthful of beer then added. “Me heart damned near fuckin stopped beating when I saw a toilet fallin from tha heavens.”
“There has been a lot of research into the relationship of twins. Researchers won't just accept that there's a mysterious kind of bond there. They're too busy trying to put a label on it.” Juan said. “They just can't accept the existence of miracles. Seems to me whatever happened that day was a miracle. Like when frail little little old Grandmas lift cars off their grandbabies.”
“Ye believe in miracles do ye?” Connor asked.
“Yes, I do.” Juan said picking at the the sweaty label on the bottle in front of him. “When I walked onto Castro's estate and saw the crime scene it took me back to Copley Plaza when you killed Yuri Petrova. That was the first real crime scene I worked.
I ended up stuck trying to figure out what to do. My training was telling me that I was supposed to issue a warrant, start a manhunt and track you down, but I remembered Petrova and all the shit he had gotten away with, the same shit that Castro had been getting away with. But Castro wouldn't do it anymore. I asked God for a sign and he sent Eunice. Now I'm sitting here getting to know you, learning about you and I know that this is the right thing, what you do.” Ybarra chugged the rest of his beer then continued.
“Somewhere out there are families who will celebrate birthdays, and anniversaries and holidays with loved ones this year because you killed Castro before he could ruin their lives. No matter how you look at it, that's a miracle.”
*****
Murphy and Connor found themselves sitting at a bar with of all things a cat walking toward them on the the polished wood surface. They followed the cat's progress as it walked by. The sound of glass on wood drew their eyes to the man standing behind the bar pouring three shots.
“Roc, ye look good.” Connor said.
“You guys too.” Rocco answered.
“We miss ya.” Murphy said.
“Of course you do! I mean I'm the funny man right?” Rocco picked up a glass and held it aloft waiting for the brothers to pick up their glasses. “Slainte!” Rocco swallowed the shot with Connor and Murphy repeating the toast before they knocked back their own shots.
“Now I haven't got much time, you two sorry Micks are stumbling around as blind as Ray Charles right now. I shouldn't be telling you the things I'm about to tell you but but what the fuck. The opportunity to piss in the adult pool? I'll take a chance.” Rocco said. “Murph, you figured out the big secret, saw right through that bitch. You know what Lilith is, thing is she ain't the only one.”
“Wha are ye talkin about Roc?” Murphy asked.
“That whole big fairytale they taught you in Sunday School about Satan being cast into hell? Forget about it, he's never set eyes on the place. Satan was cast down man, just cast down.” Rocco said.
“Are ye saying that tha church is lyin, Roc?” Connor asked becoming outraged.
“Not lying, misinformed. We poor humans can't handle the truth, it'll make our brains explode or at least that the general consensus on this side. Satan and his demons never spent a day in hell. You know the story of Legion right? When Christ cast the demons out of that guy?” Rocco continued.
“Aye.” Murphy said. “He sent them into a herd o swine.”

“Well there's a reason for that. Until the final war for heaven; Lucifer and all the demons throughout history have been walking the earth and in general fuckin everybody over.
But they don't exactly have free run, cause every so often people come along that fuck with the demons. People like you two fuck ups.”
“What's tha supposed to mean?” Connor asked.
“What tha fuck Roc?” Murphy asked.
“You're gonna have to figure the rest out for yourself. I've already told you more than you're supposed to know.” Rocco said “Oh and one more thing, Lilith had a real problem when you spit in her face Murph, your lip was bleeding and that little bit of blood almost blinded her.”
“Rocco ye know yer confusing tha shit out o us.” Connor said.
Rocco tilted his head as if he could hear something. “Oh shit! I have to go guys. Just hang onto the fact that everything will work out in the end.

Connor and Murphy both sat up as they jerked awake at the same time. Sitting up in bed they looked at each other. They had been through this enough to know what they had just experienced wasn't a dream, but a vision.
*****
Smecker rubbed his eyes before pouring himself another generous shot of Scotch. He had figured out early on that going through the reports on Greenley's murder was going to be harder than he thought. He just didn't know how hard.
Usually he was dealing with anonymous bodies, people he didn't know. But he knew, had known, David Greenley. When he looked at the crime scene photos it wasn't a body he was seeing it was a friend. When he read the autopsy report it wasn't The Deceased, but someone he had worked with. The whole time he was trying to work his way through the reports, memories kept popping up. Like nights when he and Greenley would join the rest of the gang at Doc's for drinks. Or the time Greenley offered him that spare ticket to the Celtics game and they had drank beer, ate hotdogs and cheered the home team to a resounding loss.
The worst part of the whole thing however was the autopsy report. According to the coroner whoever killed Greenley had kept him alive as long as possible, so David was alive as they cut him open and started cutting things out of him.
Smecker gulped down the alcohol and decided that refilling the glass took too much time. He picked up the bottle and took a good long drink.
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Saints or Martyrs?