staring down the sun

[15] standing here until you make me move

"Connor!" Murphy cries through the wall.

"Murph, go! Get the fuck out of here!" Connor screams, banging a flat hand against the steel. He hits the wall again, silent rage building in his core. He grits his teeth as he and Elena search the room for a way out.

The immediacy of their situation sinks in, and Connor and Elena look around with wide, desperate eyes. The timer keeps ticking, each beep telling them how much time they have left to live. Connor thinks of his brother, knowing that while Murphy can take care of himself, Connor can't leave him all alone in this world. Their family prayer fills his mind, stuck in his throat, as his eyes dart around, looking for an answer.

"I'm so sorry, Connor," Elena says, her voice strained with growing fear.

He blinks and looks at her, turning to face her completely. The ominous beeping accelerates, and they both jerk their heads to see the final few seconds on the timer tick away. They quickly look back at each other, eyes still wide and incredibly frightened.

Tears pool beneath Elena's green irises, and her voice is calm.

"Sláinte mo chara." Cheers my friend.

The moment the words leave her lips, Connor grabs her face and kisses her. He feels the shock in her skin, but she tangles her tongue around his, kissing him back. He moves his hands fast to grab her back, like he'll never let her go again. And Elena pulls at his coat collar with a tight grip, her heart beating fast against his own. This might be the last thing they ever do, tasting each other, holding each other tightly.

But as they slow the kiss and steady their breathing, they realize that something happened. Nothing happened, actually. The beeping had stopped without them realizing it, leaving the timer frozen with only 3 seconds left. And they are still alive, eyes wide and frightened for different reasons now.

Elena slowly lowers her heels back to the floor, releasing her grip on Connor's coat as he steps back. They stare at each other, still trying to catch their breath.

Suddenly, the mechanical sound of the wall moving snaps their attention, and Connor guides Elena to move behind him. He holds up the gun that he's sure—he hopes—has one bullet left, aimed at the steel and whatever awaits them on the other side.

And there stands Murphy, like fucking Rambo, with his obscenely large knife in his right hand. Connor lowers his gun and pulls the slide back out of combined curiosity and anxiety. One bullet left. Fuck.

Murphy moves his eyes between Connor and Elena, raising an eyebrow as he fights a smile. "Ye two alright?"

"Aye," Connor exhales slowly and nods, feeling Elena move from behind him. He can still taste the salt of her skin on his lips, but he blinks hard, narrowing his eyes toward his brother. "The fuck did ye do there?"

"Oh, I cut the red wire," Murphy says with naive confidence, holding the knife up proudly. Connor rubs his hand over his face while Elena mumbles a few curse words under her breath. The twin smiles, though confused by the reactions he's getting. "What? Just like in the movies, yeah?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Murph," Connor scowls. "Didn't ye think ye might be wrong?"

"Well, it fucking worked, didn't it?" Murphy exclaims, looking incredibly annoyed.

"Divine intervention or luck of the Irish?" Elena asks, a hint of sarcasm coating her voice.

Murphy squints at her, biting back with his own snark. "You choose, lass."

"Shut it, both of ye," Connor interjects, careful not to raise his voice as the adrenaline seeps back in. "We need to get the fuck out of here before something else happens."