The Boondock Saints xReader One Shots (Taking Requests)

Psycopath Part 4 (PlatonicBoysxReader)

PREVIOUSLY:
You ran to the spot the knives were kept and grabbed a rather large one. The boys jumped up frantically with shouts of alarm.
"What do ya think yer doin'?!" Murphy exclaimed.

You brought the knife to your arm and made one calculated stab before the boys reached you.
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Blood immediately gushed from the spot the knife had sliced through your skin. It was a fairly deep stab and both the boys observed this immediately.

Murphy grabbed the blade and forcefully wrenched your fingers off it through your screams of protest as you tried desperately to get out of Connor's grip, though he found that your grip strength was extremely strong.

"NO STOP GIVE IT BACK TO ME!! I CAN'T-" Your voice cut off uncontrollably with a hysterical and rageful scream. "Just calm down! Jesus fuckin' christ!" Connor exclaimed, tightening his grip around you so you didn't hurt yourself....or anyone else, for that matter.

Murphy finally won the fight over the knife and quickly threw it aimlessly behind him, breathing heavily from adrenaline. You had a thick flow of blood running down your arm and into the palm of your hand, down your fingertips and dripping steadily to the floor.

Connor took you to a chair and placed you down gently. You had suddenly lost all of your desperate fight and were now completely compliant, if somewhat limp.

"Are ya alright, Lass? Wha was that about?" Murphy asked gently, kneeling in front of your chair and taking your injured arm in his hands to inspect the wound while Connor went and got wet rags and a bandage.

You said nothing in return. Your eyes stared blankly at the table and you didn't turn your head to look at him. He sighed slightly and rubbed the back of your hand soothingly with his thumb.

Connor came back with an arm load of rags and bandages. He also carried your oversized jacket. Placing the things he cairried down on the table, he dropped the jacket over your shoulders and put the large hood over your head.

Your good hand came up and pulled the strings tight around the hood, successfully vanishing your face from sight. The boys exchanged one of their little wordless glances and then began to fix up your arm.

Murphy cleaned the blood off your skin and disenfected the wound and Connor bandaged it up and cleaned off the bloody knife Murphy had thrown on the counter.

Once they had everything in order, Murphy took the knives off to their room and hide the damn things under his bed. Connor gently put your arms through the sleeves of your jacket and carried you to the couch.

You were still very lethargic, but you opened the hood enough so you could peer out at Connor for a second before disappearing back into the safety of your jacket and closing the gap. Connor found this strange, but decided not to question you.

What had happened? You seemed perfectly normal, and then suddenly you were talking nonsense and trying to kill yourself....if that was what you were trying to do. He thought maybe next time he should pay more attention to what you were saying.

Murphy came back out into the living room and shot Connor a questioning look, silently asking if you had said anything, to which Connor shook his head. They went and sat at the dining room table were they could watch you but not disturb you.

You stayed very still and didn't talk or come out of your jacket for some time. About two hours later, your face emerged, along with your hands. Sitting upright, you scanned the room for nothing in particular while the boys watched you silently.