The Boondock Saints xReader One Shots (Taking Requests)

Captured (Part Two)

Murphy watched in stupefied terror as he saw you dragged back through the window you had almost escaped from. It was incredibly hard to process what had just taken place. Everything was going so good...how did this happen? He knew what you would say.

You would tell him to run. Run and come back with help. But was that the right thing to do? No one knew you like everyone knew him and Connor. Might they decide to just go ahead and kill you? Or worse? It was unthinkable.

He had fell wrong and landed on his injured leg, all his weight and that of Connors had landed on it when he jumped and he wasn't so sure he could run now if he tried.

He knew he had no chance of saving you if he went back in there. Again he was forced to make the shitty decision to run and come back later, prepared. He had only taken a moment to make this decision, so he had a few precious seconds to find a suitable way to get back to the car before the idiots inside got outside and started searching for them.

He clenched his teeth and forced himself to move, but the pain that took over his senses was blinding. He made it just out of sight of the building when people flooded the lot, all with flashlights and shouting profanities at each other. By some miracle or another, he managed to get back to the car. However, by this time he was practically dragging Connor behind him and gasping for the dear breath of life.

He threw Connor down as gently (which was not very gentle) as he could into the back seat and checked for a pulse again. It was a pointless endeavor. The logical part of his brain knew for sure that Connor was still nowhere near death, but he needed to feel it again.

Once the car finally pulled up into their current hideout apartment, Connor was just starting to regain consciousness. "Where tha fuck are we?" he questioned groggily, running a hand over his face.

Murphy could have fainted in relief. He wasn't alone anymore. He had someone to think with him, and Connor was always more calm than he was. "At the apartment," he answered weakly. "We have to go get Y/n. How are ya feelin'?"

Connor sat up straight in the backseat and shook his head testingly. He didn't feel dizzy, just had a wicked headache that felt as if his head would split in two. Nothing to worry about.

"Where is Y/n?" Connor asked seriously, feeling sure he already knew the answer. Murphy explained the situation quickly, and as he thought, it was almost exactly what he had expected to hear.

The problem probably had something to do with their plan.

"How badly are ya hurt, Murph?" Connor asked leaning into the front seat to get a better look at his wounded comrade. "I'm fuckin' fine, how soon until we can go get Y/n?" Murphy questioned, getting ahead of himself. He truly wasn't "fuckin' fine"

The biggest problem they faced at the moment was that they had no idea what your capturers intended to do with you, thus ending in them not knowing how long they had to go get you. At least the boys had a pretty penny over their heads keeping them from immediate death. They were not so sure about you. They might decide to just kill you rather than turn you into the feds. The thought distressed Murphy in a much different way than he thought it would. 

"Look," Connor started tiredly. "We can't do anythin' about this right now, if we go back in we're going to get ourselves killed and definitely won't be doin' 'er any favors."

Again, Murphy was forced to agree with the logic of this statement. But he still didn't like it. Maybe one of these times he should just let himself be caught with you so he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt of having had left you.

Of course, this was bullshit, but it didn't make him feel any better about the situation.

"Besides, if I know Y/n, she is probably thinking of a way to get 'erself outta there as we speak..." Connor mumbled thoughtfully.