Disclaimer: I do not own The Boondock Saints, nor the wonderful MacManus brothers. Unfortunately.

Connor MacManus sat listening to his mother on the phone, hearing the quiver in her voice, seeing the tears stream down her cheeks, watching her break down once again. And once again, he was powerless to stop it. He'd give anything to go back in time to that fateful day almost six years ago, the day that changed everything, the day he wished had never happened. The day he had failed his brother.

He should have been there, by Murphy's side, where he belonged. If he had been there, Murphy would be home right now, safe and sound. But Murphy was gone in the blink of an eye and Connor didn't know how to find him, or where. He hadn't been able to protect his twin, his best friend, his other half. He should have been there.

But he hadn't been there when it mattered most, when Murphy needed him most desperately...when Murphy had been alone and vulnerable, probably terrified beyond belief. When someone had taken him away to only God knows where. Connor was supposed to protect Murphy, watch out for him, make sure he didn't get hurt. But he had failed. And for that, he'd never forgive himself...he just couldn't.

So he sat listening to his Ma on the phone, feeling the pain radiating from her soul.

"It's been almost six years. I don't know if I can talk about it again & not lose my mind," she quietly confessed, turning away from Connor in an attempt to shield him from her agony. "My heart breaks more every day that I'm without him. The pain is unbearable."

Connor saw his mother's shoulders slump & she nodded, quietly accepting whatever words were said on the other end of the phone. "What is it that you're asking?"

She sighed, relenting, her voice suddenly sounding flat. "Fine, I'll be there within an hour."

Annabelle MacManus hung up the phone, her hand lingering on the receiver as she composed herself before turning to her oldest twin. "Get your coat, Connor. The police want to talk with us again."

Annabelle knew better than to leave without Connor, she had tried that in the beginning, to spare him whatever horror he might be exposed to. But she learned quickly that the horror he imagined was just as terrifying, just as haunting, just as damaging as the reality of the situation. So she decided that he needed to know anything and everything that happened, good and bad.

The problem was, there was nothing to be known. Nothing. Not one thing was found in the nearly six years that had passed. No sightings, no evidence, no trace.

No Murphy.

Annabelle & Connor were ushered into an interrogation room, Detective Ron Jennings joining them without delay, passing coffee to the woman & hot chocolate to the boy. They had grown to know each other over the past six years, in a way that no person should have to get to know the other, in circumstances no parent should have to endure. In her eyes he saw the raw emotion & undeniable pain and he dropped his head briefly before looking into her son's eyes, seeing the exact same look, the exact same pain, the exact same sense of loss. Mother and son waited patiently for the detective to begin.

It always started the same, the detective's words gentle, reassuring. "I haven't given up. I'll never give up until I find him."

She nodded, "I remember your promise, Ron." They had been on a first name basis for the past 6 years, it seemed ridiculous to be otherwise, seeing as their lives had become so intertwined.

Ron thumbed a folder that was full of papers, its edges worn from time, his hesitation hanging in the air. Annabelle knew that folder and what was inside...the story of her son, his disappearance, her Murphy. She held her breath as he opened the folder, and she bit her lip as a single tear ran down her cheek.

"Ma, please don't cry," Connor quietly begged, his voice shaky & quiet. She turned to look at him, seeing his eyes also filling with tears, his struggle to not cry unsuccessful as hot tears leaked down his cheeks.

She reached up & brushed away his tears, leaning in to kiss him on his forehead, knowing his pain was equal to her own. After all, Connor was Murphy's fraternal twin brother & he missed him just as desperately. And for the past six years, she had listened to Connor cry himself to sleep every single night, his pain unrelenting, torturous and still raw. Connor was lost without Murphy.

Annabelle took Connor's hand in her own, lacing their fingers together, and she nodded to the detective, giving consent. Ron turned the page & Annabelle's eyes dropped to the folder, knowing what she would see but unable to stop herself from looking.

Murphy...

Her smiling 10 year old son looked back at her through time, his smile just as brilliant and beautiful as the day that picture was taken.

Murphy...

His blue eyes had a mischievous glint and Annabelle smiled through the tears, remembering that when the picture had been snapped, Murphy had just soaked his brother with a water balloon that he had hidden behind his back. He had been so proud of himself at that moment, he rarely got away with tricking Connor, but this time he had succeeded, and his face was beaming with pride.

Murphy...

The little boy who broke into a fit of giggles right after that moment was frozen on film, unable to contain himself any longer. He was a beautiful child, a ten year old little pissant, and he was hers. But that was long ago.

Her smile faded as she glanced at his twin brother. Connor had grown a lot in the past 6 years & he was turning 16 in a couple weeks…..as was Murphy. Only Murphy was frozen in time on film, his smile one of a young child, not a young man. Connor was shaving, his shoulders had broadened, his body grew. Connor had long ago put away the toys of childhood. But Murphy remained in her memory as a 10 year old little boy, unchanged, small and innocent.

Annabelle couldn't help but wonder what her Murphy would look like now, how he had changed, how similar he & Connor would look and act. If he still had the same smile.

Connor turned to his mother, his eyes narrowed with conviction. "He's alive, Ma."

She nodded, not entirely convinced, even though every fiber of her being wanted to believe her son.

Connor continued, his voice now steady & filled with certainty. "I'm his twin brother, I can feel it. He's alive, Ma, he is. We just have to find him."

Annabelle thought back six years, thought back to when her children were young, thought back to the day her baby disappeared, to the day when Murphy was taken away from her. From them.

And she began to cry.