After reading the letter, Connor felt like a truck had slammed him into a brick wall.

His whole body was trembling – his hands, his lips, his legs – so bad he needed to sit down to prevent falling to his knees.

The only thing going through his head was static – undefined, incomprehensible static, punctuated frequently by a curse or two.

He had guessed Murphy wouldn't have much to say – after all, he wasn't exactly the eloquent type – but this letter…

Holy shit, Connor thought. I'm actually crying.

Jesus Christ, did he fuck up.

He knew he and Murphy were close, closer than brothers or even twins usually were, but Murphy had taken that feeling and put words to it. Connor had never been able to do that – hell, he'd been too scared to try.

The sheer magnitude of how he'd hurt the person who meant the most to him in the entire world felt like it was going to smite him into the ground. He felt like such shit, he almost begged it to.

After around twenty minutes, Connor felt stable enough to stand, and he set out to find his brother. He just hoped it wasn't too late.

Murphy wasn't at the apartment – that would be far too easy.

He wasn't at the church, though that was another long shot.

He wasn't walking in the fens, like they often did together on Sundays, just to feel serenity in their chaotic lives.

He wasn't at their bench in the commons, where they sat and reminisced about Ireland, and how American grass didn't even compare to the green back home.

He wasn't even in any of the bars they had ever been to, and Connor was almost sure he would have been at one of them, doing what he did best whenever he was heated up about something.

It was times like these when Connor was usually the only one who could get Murphy to calm down, to come back to Earth, and remember that it was okay to forgive and forget. But this time, Connor was the thing Murphy was heated up about, and it would probably take a lot more than a few minutes coaxing and a few shots to bring him back.

Hell, Murphy probably considered Connor dead to him, anyway.

It was late, when he finally found him – nearing midnight. But Connor would never have guessed that Murphy would be at his twin's fake grave.

Murphy was standing absolutely still, hands in his pockets, staring intently at the plain headstone, the cavernous hole in the ground, the now obviously empty gleaming casket.

As riled up as he could get sometimes, with enough blood alcohol content and provocation, Murphy was the one who could sometimes be mistaken for a statue. Connor, always the fidgety one, was almost too scared to approach his twin.

Murphy heard Connor's footsteps, but didn't turn around. He let his twin stop a few feet behind him. It was minutes before either of them spoke.

"I'm sorry, Murph." The words spilled out without warning. "I am so, so sorry. I fucked up. I shouldn't have done it."

Connor winced at the frailty of the words, the seemingly insincerity. Murphy had poured his heart out into that beautiful letter, and here he couldn't conjure up a measly apology.

"Jesus, I was an idiot to think that would work. I mean, well, it did work, but that was much too high a price to take down a stupid mobster. I don't know how I let Smecker talk me into this. I risked losing you, and that's probably the stupidest thing I have ever done. Much stupider than all your antics."

Murphy finally moved, turning around to face his brother. His pale blue eyes pierced right through Connor's chest, but he didn't say anything.

Connor winced again. "I know, you probably don't believe me. I mean, I wouldn't believe me. I had absolutely no right to do what I did, really. I mean… that's almost like playing God." Both twins crossed themselves reverently. Connor continued. "And that's not right, not right at all. I mean, even worse than spiritually… brotherly. Twenty eight years together…. I can't even imagine how you could feel, that I could toss that aside so easily, just to be the stupid fucking hero."

Jesus Christ, Connor hated himself right about then.

"I know, you probably won't forgive me. I don't see how you could. I wouldn't. I mean, what I did… probably one of the worst things I could do to you. Jesus, so much for my 'heart of gold'." He gave a shaky laugh. "More like a heart of dirt, huh?

"And what you said… about being half of the MacManus brothers. You were so right. I mean, you're right more often than you think you are. But I honestly cannot believe how I could leave you to be half of us, just leaving my empty shell on you…. shit, how could I do that to you? I know I could never be just Connor, without Murphy… I couldn't, and I would never want to…. how on Earth could I put you through that kind of hell? Jesus Christ, Murph, that was so awful of me, I can't believe I fucking did that.

"I'm an idiot, I was so beyond wrong, I was selfish, I was arrogant… I should never have put any of that above you. You're worth so much more to me than being a hero. I shouldn't have let that blind me. I never meant to hurt you, I would never… I could never willingly sacrifice you, ad my brother, my twin, or…" Connor swallowed hard to choke back tears. "…the best and fucking most important person I've ever known in my life."

Try as he might, one tear slipped down his cheek, landing with a silent splash that was so loud, Connor was sure Murphy had heard it.

"I just want you to know, that even though I was a complete jackass, and I understand if you can't just let that go…. I love you, Murphy. I always have, and I'll never stop."

He turned to walk away, but his legs couldn't seem to find the willpower to leave the cemetery. Maybe this is where I belong, Connor thought glumly.

The lightest of touches, just inside his elbow, sent a cold shiver coursing over his body. He turned slowly and made eye contact with his twin.

Murphy's eyes had softened into the velvety blue that they really were – not clouded by anger, or humiliation, or distrust – radiating the real Murphy, the one Connor prided himself on knowing, being related to, and just hanging around with.

Connor opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Murphy grinned his shy, floating smile.

As the brothers embraced, they both knew that there was nothing in the entire world that could ever throw them apart, and that normal words just couldn't cover how they felt about each other. There was just absolutely nothing to say.