AN: You asked for it! Here is the sequel for my story Brotherhood of Saints. I hope you enjoy Demons of Saints just as much, if not more. I'll warn you now, it think it'll be even more emotional and angsty than the first! You have been warned! It's been posted as it's own document. Okay, now buh-bay!

Sequel to Brotherhood of Saints...

Demons of Saints

Fights and Flames

By Candra Hastings

It had been eight years since the day that Murphy's heart had stopped beating. And though he'd been brought back and so much had happened to both MacManus brother over that span of time, he sometimes couldn't help but remember those three days of hell that he'd experienced.

Though his wounds had healed and his scars had faded, there were days that something would remind him of those three days that he'd been separated from his twin. The three days that'd he'd been tortured mercilessly. The three days that had almost cost him his life.

Maybe it would be the click of a lighter when he wasn't prepared for it. Sometimes, he'd rub at the sore muscles in his neck and would feel the round scars from the cigarette burns there. Other days, he'd be by his brother's side, sweeping the floors of the Hoag prison, and he'd bend down to pick some trash from the floor. His sleeve would sometimes ride up a little and expose the pale white rings that encircled his wrists. Or maybe he'd just notice that the little finger on his left hand hadn't quite healed right and was slightly crooked, the same as one of his ribs.

He knew Connor noticed. Connor always noticed. He'd seen him in the mornings when they'd wake up in their cell for the day, watching his slightly younger twin as Murphy quickly yanked a shirt over his head, hiding the slightly protruding rib and the scar from the healed stab wound from his brother's watchful eyes. Though he was grateful that he and Connor shared a cell instead of being separated, he hated the sad, almost guilty look that would haunt the light in his twin's blue eyes...