Eight long years had passed them all by in their peaceful home country. It was almost as if they were four regular, run of the mill people...Almost. Chrysanthemum Flynn had become used to the monotony of it all; grown fond of it even. The three sheep from the Buckley's farm had expanded into a very sizable flock, with which the boys scraped a living together. They spent their long days tending to their sheep, and relaxing at home with the family. Every once in a blue moon they went down to The Anvil to unwind. Noah MacManus helped with the sheep every now and then, but more often than not you could find him in the garden out back, or in the kitchen with Chrys, preparing meals. He still made a little extra money making and selling furniture and leather works here and there. Chrys, after a time, got tired of sitting around the house all day. Though she loved not fearing for everyone's lives constantly, all the hubbub had wired her in a way that disallowed her to stay in one place for too long. She ended up taking a few classes at the local college, and landed an internship at a daycare center in the area; she eventually logged enough hours and did such a good job that they promoted her to a full time position teaching at the facility. She went home every day to her family…and she was happy.

They were all happy. Connor, Murphy, Noah, and Chrysanthemum all lived in a state of peace and contentment. Noah, it seemed, was the only one who ever took into consideration that it would not last forever. The twins and their girl chose to remain blissfully ignorant of the world around them; they chose to fool themselves into believing everything that had happened was a long lost bad dream, and put it from their minds. He watched them enjoy themselves in an uneasy silence most of the time, reminiscing about his long lost past and wondering how long it was going to take everything to come around and remind them all of what had occurred, and of what they had all done.

One night, their patriarch's predictions came to pass, and everything changed. The day's work was long since done, dinner enjoyed, and lights turned off. Noah turned in to his room for the night; he took the boys' old room as his own. Chrys, Connor, and Murphy lay cocooned in bed together in Chrys' old room. It had been a peaceful enough day, most like all the other ones of the past near decade.

Connor twitched in his sleep. In his unconscious mind, he saw a priest. Several images fleetingly presented themselves to him in a nonsensical order. Blood, pennies, a confessional booth, two guns. Across the bed from him Murphy heard the priest's agonizing cries for help; for mercy. But no such mercy was granted. The twins snapped awake at the same time, gasping in unison. All it took was a look in the other's eyes, and each brother knew something was amiss. The last time they had shared a dream, it was the one that told them to become what they became eight years ago in Boston. Chrysanthemum turned in her sleep but was otherwise undisturbed by their revelation.

Both boys lay back down with a wordless understanding; they both knew their fairytale world had come to an end. They didn't know what form the dark cloud would present itself in, but they knew it would come, and soon. Connor lay his arm around Chrys' waist and kissed her on the forehead. Murphy did the same, and kissed the soft skin on the back of her neck. They were more sorry for her than themselves; she deserved a happy ending more than anyone they knew. They thought they had given that to her by coming back home, by ignoring their past and their pain; but trouble had a way of finding them.

No matter what was coming, they would handle it with style and determination. And more importantly, they would do everything in their power to come out of it on top. Just like they did all those years ago.