"Did ye learn all those languages in the CIA?" Murphy asks Elena as he passes the whiskey bottle to Connor.
The dimly lit lamps cast enough of a glow around the motel room to soften everyone's edges. And Murphy was right in cracking open the bottle of Jameson he grabbed after they let that Valencia guy go. They had spent the first couple of drinks teasing each other in the various languages they're fluent in, leading Murphy to ask the question.
Elena smiles as Connor hands her the bottle. "Some, not all of them. Most of them are because my mom insisted on it."
The twins share a look, the story sounding all too familiar, until Elena clears her throat. Connor smiles, "Sorry, it's just that our mother was the same way."
"Gotta love the Irish, yeah?" Elena pours whiskey into her glass, a warm smile crawling up to one side as she reads the confused looks on the boys' faces. "My mom was Irish, too. From Galway."
Murphy's whiskey-tinted lips curl up slightly. "So...yer a Galway girl?"
The realization hits Connor...the song Murphy was humming several days ago. The dark-haired twin avoids the song reference out loud, perhaps the best decision he's made all week. Connor subtly widens his eyes toward his brother, silently begging him not to mention the dream of their mother.
Elena holds the glass close to her lips, and her eyes narrow toward the mischievous MacManus brother. "Yeah. And?"
Murphy gives Connor a sly glance but shakes his head as he finally answers, "Nothing, lass."
Connor chuckles softly, studying the golden liquid in his glass. Makes sense now, knowing Elena truly has Irish blood in her. Not just in how natural their Gaeilge flows out of her mouth but also in her occasional speaking cadence.
Murphy pours more whiskey into his glass, handing the bottle to Elena. "Ye miss yer ma, yeah?"
She takes a sip, nodding. "Of course. But even if she was still alive, there's no way I'd be able to see her. Spies don't have families."
The statement weighs heavy on Connor, and he can't comprehend the disappointment it brings. Family is all he's ever known, no matter how fucked up it's been.
"But yer not a spy anymore, lass," Murphy interjects, only slightly slurring his words. "Yer a Saint now."
Elena's cheeks glow a bright red as she laughs. "I don't know about that."
Murphy taps his hand on the table to underscore his point. "Nonsense! Yer one of us now, so yer a Saint. Right, Connor?"
Connor feels his own cheeks flush, conflicted between agreeing with his brother and saying anything to comfort Elena.
Impatient, Murphy turns back to the girl. "I'm telling ye, yer a Saint now. Dolly, Duffy, Bloomy, Smecky, they're all Saints too! And we're a family, yeah?"
The statement makes Connor giggle, and that alone he knows will put Elena's nerves at ease. Her smile relaxes as she laughs, though her face still glows.
"Ye do have a family," Murphy slurs with confidence. "Ye have us."
Connor throws the rest of his whiskey down his throat, taking the bottle from Elena to refill his glass. If he wants any chance at being clever tonight, he will need more Irish courage.
"I've just been so used to being on my own...alone, you know?" Elena admits, rubbing her index finger along the edge of her glass.
Connor swallows hard, his voice low like it's buried in his chest. "Yer not alone anymore, Elena."
YOU ARE READING
staring down the sun
FanficReal men hide their feelings, at least that's what Connor and Murphy believed in order to survive. Until Elena Jensen helps them open up through therapy before they escape prison and go back to work as the Saints. The boys learn Elena has some secre...
