Murphy/O'Reily fic for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
colleendetroit
Jul. 22nd, 2007 07:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cmk418This is a short piece written for my graphics queen, colleendetroit. Because I know myself enough to know that B/K isn't my strong suit, I decided to take her second favorite pairing - Murphy/O'Reily - and do a fic around the two of them. This is AU, takes place during season 666, and assumes that Gloria has called in sick on the day of Cyril's execution. It's fairly angsty, but I hope you like it.
CONNECTIONS
Sean Murphy stood just outside the meditative maze, attempting to keep pace as Ryan O’Reily spiraled, with no attention to the lines, into the center and then out again. Sean looked up toward the windows to see McManus walking past with an arm around a shaken Suzanne Fitzgerald.
Shit, he thought. Gloria should be here. Gloria would have been able to help. Ryan continued to walk and ramble on, feet and mouth moving at about the same speed. It wasn’t hard to see what the younger man was doing. If he stopped – when he stopped – then the reality of Cyril’s death would come crashing down.
Sean wanted to be able to reach out, to comfort the inmate, but that thought was immediately filed away as a “bad idea”. Taking advantage of the situation was something that he would never do. He left that to the cons, the men like the one standing in front of him.
And then Ryan was talking to him, “Man, am I glad you’re here.”
Sean forced down the smile that threatened to appear on his face. “I’m just here to keep you out of trouble.”
“Yeah, right. You got a brother, Murphy?”
“Two. I had two.”
“Had?”
“My younger brother died when I was twenty.”
“God, that sucks. How did you get over it?”
“Never did. Not really. It gets easier, but not a day goes by that I don’t think about him.”
“What happened to the other one?”
“What?”
“You said you had two brothers. One died, what about the other one? Is he dead?”
“No.” Murphy chose not to say anything else on the matter, the slight clenching of his fists was an involuntary reaction that happened every time he thought of that particular sibling.
“Officer Murphy?”
“For God’s sake, Ryan, you can call me Sean while we’re in here,” he snapped.
“Yeah, all right. I just wanted to say thanks for looking after Cyril all these years.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that. I was just doing my job, that’s all.”
“It was beyond that, Sean, and you know it. I don’t know why you did what you did, helping out the two biggest troublemakers in this place.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them, “You don’t?”
Sean’s foot stepped over the line, joining Ryan in the confines of the labyrinth. Not wanting to block Ryan’s progress, he moved quickly into the center of the maze. He was at a loss as to why McManus thought this would be soothing. He was anything but relaxed, watching Ryan walking quick little loops around him.
“You can’t say it was the job,” Ryan reasoned. “I mean for Howell, it’s a job. For LoPresti, it’s a job, for McManus...”
“I get it, Ryan.”
“But you actually care about what happened to Cyril and me. And it’s not the Irish thing, much as you’d like to say it is, because you never paid the same attention to Kirk, or Liam, or Connelly.”
Sean stood still, not wanting to admit that Ryan had made two very valid points and was getting surprisingly close to the truth. Still, if this was what it took to keep Ryan’s mind off his brother, so be it.
“Maybe it was pity. Did you feel sorry for Cyril? Did you feel sorry for me on account of Cyril? Was that all it was?” Ryan stopped directly in front of Sean. “And now that Cyril... that Cyril...” As Ryan’s voice broke, Sean wrapped his arms tightly around him.
“Don’t leave me,” Ryan whispered.
Sean ran his hands lightly down Ryan’s back, trying to ease the younger man’s tension, while ignoring his own.
“Please, don’t leave me,” he repeated, lips moving against Sean’s ear.
Sean froze in place as Ryan brushed his lips over Sean’s jaw.
“Ryan, I...” A half dozen thoughts all following the refrain of this being a “very bad idea” danced through the C.O.’s mind. Then Ryan’s lips met his, and all those thoughts drifted away, replaced by one –
He was glad that Gloria Nathan had chosen this day, of all days, to call in sick.
colleendetroit. Because I know myself enough to know that B/K isn't my strong suit, I decided to take her second favorite pairing - Murphy/O'Reily - and do a fic around the two of them. This is AU, takes place during season 666, and assumes that Gloria has called in sick on the day of Cyril's execution. It's fairly angsty, but I hope you like it.CONNECTIONS
Sean Murphy stood just outside the meditative maze, attempting to keep pace as Ryan O’Reily spiraled, with no attention to the lines, into the center and then out again. Sean looked up toward the windows to see McManus walking past with an arm around a shaken Suzanne Fitzgerald.
Shit, he thought. Gloria should be here. Gloria would have been able to help. Ryan continued to walk and ramble on, feet and mouth moving at about the same speed. It wasn’t hard to see what the younger man was doing. If he stopped – when he stopped – then the reality of Cyril’s death would come crashing down.
Sean wanted to be able to reach out, to comfort the inmate, but that thought was immediately filed away as a “bad idea”. Taking advantage of the situation was something that he would never do. He left that to the cons, the men like the one standing in front of him.
And then Ryan was talking to him, “Man, am I glad you’re here.”
Sean forced down the smile that threatened to appear on his face. “I’m just here to keep you out of trouble.”
“Yeah, right. You got a brother, Murphy?”
“Two. I had two.”
“Had?”
“My younger brother died when I was twenty.”
“God, that sucks. How did you get over it?”
“Never did. Not really. It gets easier, but not a day goes by that I don’t think about him.”
“What happened to the other one?”
“What?”
“You said you had two brothers. One died, what about the other one? Is he dead?”
“No.” Murphy chose not to say anything else on the matter, the slight clenching of his fists was an involuntary reaction that happened every time he thought of that particular sibling.
“Officer Murphy?”
“For God’s sake, Ryan, you can call me Sean while we’re in here,” he snapped.
“Yeah, all right. I just wanted to say thanks for looking after Cyril all these years.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that. I was just doing my job, that’s all.”
“It was beyond that, Sean, and you know it. I don’t know why you did what you did, helping out the two biggest troublemakers in this place.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them, “You don’t?”
Sean’s foot stepped over the line, joining Ryan in the confines of the labyrinth. Not wanting to block Ryan’s progress, he moved quickly into the center of the maze. He was at a loss as to why McManus thought this would be soothing. He was anything but relaxed, watching Ryan walking quick little loops around him.
“You can’t say it was the job,” Ryan reasoned. “I mean for Howell, it’s a job. For LoPresti, it’s a job, for McManus...”
“I get it, Ryan.”
“But you actually care about what happened to Cyril and me. And it’s not the Irish thing, much as you’d like to say it is, because you never paid the same attention to Kirk, or Liam, or Connelly.”
Sean stood still, not wanting to admit that Ryan had made two very valid points and was getting surprisingly close to the truth. Still, if this was what it took to keep Ryan’s mind off his brother, so be it.
“Maybe it was pity. Did you feel sorry for Cyril? Did you feel sorry for me on account of Cyril? Was that all it was?” Ryan stopped directly in front of Sean. “And now that Cyril... that Cyril...” As Ryan’s voice broke, Sean wrapped his arms tightly around him.
“Don’t leave me,” Ryan whispered.
Sean ran his hands lightly down Ryan’s back, trying to ease the younger man’s tension, while ignoring his own.
“Please, don’t leave me,” he repeated, lips moving against Sean’s ear.
Sean froze in place as Ryan brushed his lips over Sean’s jaw.
“Ryan, I...” A half dozen thoughts all following the refrain of this being a “very bad idea” danced through the C.O.’s mind. Then Ryan’s lips met his, and all those thoughts drifted away, replaced by one –
He was glad that Gloria Nathan had chosen this day, of all days, to call in sick.
