"Murph...I..." Murphy watched as Connor took a deep breath, head down, still unable to look him in the face. "I love ya Murph."

It took a moment for the words to process. Murphy's heart was beating loudly in his ears and he purposefully misunderstood Connor.

"O' course Conn. I love ye too."

"No - Murphy, I mean that..." Connor trailed off and everything was silent for a moment. Then Connor stepped closer and suddenly Murphy had trouble breathing.

The kiss was quick and chaste but oh how it burned, right from Murphy's lips down to the bottom of his soul. 'I can't do this'. Murphy rounded on Connor with anger.

"What the fuck was that!"

Connor flinched and didn't respond. Off Murphy went, cursing and swearing. Just babbling, he wasn't even sure what he was saying.

From the look on Connor's face though whatever he was saying was pretty bad.

Even when he started hitting him Connor still didn't respond, letting himself be punched and kicked and slapped around. Murphy knew he should stop. He didn't want to do it, he didn't want to hurt Connor. He just couldn't stop.

In all actuality it had only been about ten minutes, but it felt longer. Connor was bloody and crying. He should help him, Murphy knew he should help him. Apologise. He tried to say sorry, he really did. But the right words wouldn't come out, unfortunately other ones did.

"Get out."

It had been two months, sixteen days, eighteen hours and thirty one minutes since Murphy had last seen Connor.

It had been two months, nine days, six hours and seven minutes since Murphy had begun searching for Connor. Discreetly at first, before entering a full fledged panic state and searching everywhere.

Murphy was sick with guilt. Where was Connor? Was he okay? Was he staying away on purpose?

He probably was but Murphy wouldn't allow it. He'd search the four corners of the earth if necessary. He needed to make things right. Fuck, Connor...

Of course Murphy loved him. It had just seemed so cruel at the time how Connor would dangle the one thing Murphy had ever wanted right in front of his face. He'd only ever wanted Connor. Two seconds after the door closed softly and Murphy had realized it wasn't a joke. Too late.

Connor's sad face, blood and tears running down it, eye's sad and humiliated, haunted his dreams. Because Murphy did that. When all he'd really ever wanted was to pin Connor down and show him how much he loved him, 'til Connor screamed and begged for him. Until Connor was uncharacteristically submissive, dominated.

And really it was only by chance that Murphy happened to turn and look down that certain alley, so far from home, at mid-day. And it was only by chance that Murphy caught a glimpse of a huddle cuddled up to a trash bin. But it was familiarity that made Murphy come to a sudden stop and do a double take.

Because that huddle was his Connor.