The Saint's Angel

Enora had been to a few hospitals in her day. Growing up with a house full of men can easily lead to a few scrapes and bruises, maybe a couple broken bones here and there. But every time she paid a visit to the infirmary, it was always bustling with activity. Doctors would be barking out orders as nurses scrambled around in scrubs, their tennis shoes squeaking against the linoleum halls. Or perhaps somebody in the waiting room, expecting to hear some news about a loved one’s fate. Either way, it was never quiet. Never could she hear herself blink, breath, think.

It was always so loud.

But now, it’s silent.

He’s silent.

And now she’s here, waiting.

Patiently? No.

She’d gone through two packs of cigarettes and had properly chewed her nails down to the tips of her fingers, even nibbling down on the skin. Enora had recited a million and a half prayers, clutching her rosary in her palm as tightly as she could. She was almost positive the wooden cross had given her hands blisters. But, she could see his chest moving. Tha’ means he’s alive, she told herself. As long as his chest keeps movin’, he’s alive.

It had been a gun. Well, rather the bullet. “A drug deal gone bad,” is what he told her before he passed out in the backseat of her car three days ago. The bullet pierced his stomach, creating what resembled a gaping hole in her brother’s lower abdomen. They rushed him into surgery as soon as she brought him, but they said it’d be a miracle if he came out of the “medically-induced coma”.

Aiden had been mixed up in all sorts of crazy shit since the siblings had moved to America. And, of course, out of all the places in this bloody country, Boston had to be the place her baby brother chose! He recently started running the streets with a bunch of greasy Italians, dipping his little Irish fingers into the coke-dealing business. Why? Enora wasn’t sure. She made enough money for the both of them. Working at a pub wasn’t exactly her dream job, but it put food on the table.

But Aiden was just a kid. Well, not exactly. He was twenty-one—a legal adult—but that didn’t matter to Enora. He was still that buck-toothed, ten year-old that would come into her room and steal her things when we they younger. He was her baby brother. And I should ‘ave kept him safe, she thought bitterly. I should ‘ave kept him off tha streets or this never would ‘ave happened. I should ‘ave watched out for him and…

And his finger just moved.

“Aiden?” Enora jumped from her seat in the corner and attached her hand to his shoulder, shaking him lightly. “Aiden, come on. Wake yer ass up,” One eye opened and it was enough to send his frantic sister running out the door. “Hey! We need some help in ‘ere! He’s awake!” She cried out, more than likely catching the attention of half the hospital.

The nurse that had been sitting at the desk all day glanced over with an eye roll. She stood slowly and took her sweet time, causing Enora to snap. “Oi, bitch!” Enora shouted. “Why don’ ye get yer ass in there and find out wha’ the fuck is goin’ on with my brother?”

The nurse sighed in annoyance and grabbed a stack of files, her large hips unattractively swaying as she did so. “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down, okay? I will call security, if need be.”

“If ye call security on me, I’ll make sure that it’s ye who’s in tha’ hospital bed,” Enora’s voice dropped threateningly low. I ain’t standin’ fer this shit, she thought as her Irish temper flared. I’ve been waitin’ days fer me brother to wake up, and I’ll be damned if I ain’t allowed ta see him.

Her eyes bulged out her head in shock. “Was that a threat?”

Enora shook her head and chuckled darkly, “No, lass, tha’ was a promise.”

The two glared at each other for a few long seconds before the nurse nodded her head and quickly made her way to Aiden’s room. Enora was about to follow her into Aiden’s room when she heard snickering to her left. Glaring in that direction, her green eyes fell upon two men. One was battered and covered in bandages, leaning against the other for support. The other had a few scratches on his face and quite the black eye, his arm pulled up in a sling. And as injured as they both were, they were probably two of the most attractive men Enora had seen in Boston. But that didn’t matter. She was angry, and they were laughing. “Th’ fuck are ye laughin’ at?” She growled, fisting her hands at her sides. “Did ye not just hear me?”

The one with the lighter hair smiled, even though it looked a bit pained, and he raised a hand. “Nothin’, lass. Was just agreein’ with me brother here that it’s nice ta see a fellow Irishman,”

“Irishwoman, Con,” The other said playfully. His hair was darker, his blue eyes more prominent than the other’s. “Sorry ‘bout that, love. Me brother’s a bit loopy from the meds they’ve got ‘im on. Hope everythin’ goes well for ye an’ yer brother.” He said sincerely.

Enora nodded and gave them a small smile, feeling the anger in her subside. Damn Irish temper, she thought to herself before turning into her brother’s room. He was sipping water from the cup that the nurse had given him and was quietly answering her questions. Enora had come up with the plan to say he’d been mugged and the attackers got away so quickly that he didn’t get a chance to see them. He obviously had the same idea, since he refused to press charges or file a report. Enora leaned against the door frame and waited for him to notice her presence.

“Thank ye for th’ water,” He told the nurse politely, his voice coarse and weak. “And ‘m sorry ‘bout me sister. She can get a bit…overprotective.” He glanced over and sent Enora a wink. She smiled back and said a quick prayer, thanking Him for keeping Aiden alive. The nurse turned and noticed her standing by the door. She glanced at Enora coolly before turning on her heel and exiting the room. “Me big sister. Always getting’ yeself inta trouble.” Aiden chuckled.

“Hush, ye.” Enora narrowed her eyes playfully at her younger brother and took a seat next to his bed. “Ye look like real shit, ya know.” She chuckled as he glared at her.

“Well,” He grumbled. “Tha’s what happens when ye get shot.” Enora’s smile fell as quickly as it came and Aiden noticed. “Sorry.” He whispered and grabbed her hand. She tugged it from his and crossed her arms over her chest. She was pissed, and he needed to know.

“No, yer not,” Enora muttered. “Aiden, what the fuck? Ye know better than ta do shit like this. Wha’ do ye think Da would say if he were ‘ere?”

“But he’s not.” Aiden said coldly, his green eyes narrowing slightly. “He’s back in Ireland with tha’ whore he calls a girlfriend.”

Enora shook her head, wanting to slap some sense into her brother. “Don’ ye say that. Our father is a good man. O’ course he’s made a few mistakes, but so ‘ave you!”

“Da’s just a sorry son o’ a bitch and I want nothing ta do with ‘im. I don’ wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Too fucking bad,” She growled and pushed her chair up closer to his bed, her face inches away from his. “If I ever hear ye talkin’ about our Da tha’ way again, I’ll—“

“Miss O’Connell? Enora O’Connell?” A man entered the room, wearing a doctor’s coat and a stethoscope around his neck. “Hi, I’m Dr. Winrow. Your brother Aiden, here, is my patient.”

“Hello, Doctor.” Enora smiled politely and pushed herself away from Aiden’s bed.

Dr. Winrow gave her a nervous glace before glancing at her brother. “Aiden, would it be alright if I stole your sister for a few minutes?” He asked. Aiden scoffed and made a sweeping motion with his hands, obviously glad that she’d be leaving his room. Enora glared at her little shit of a brother before turning and following Dr. Winrow into the hallway. “Miss O’Connell—“

“Call me Enora,” She said a bit irritably. Enora hated when people called her Miss. It made her feel old.

Dr. Winrow nodded and continued. “We have a slight problem regarding Aiden’s health.”

Enora’s face grew tight and her palms started to sweat. Please, Father. Don’t let it be serious, she prayed quickly as Dr. Winrow explained Aiden’s predicament. “Your brother…well, we aren’t sure why but his vitals aren’t well. He was shot from such a close proximity that the bullet…it just created so much internal damage…” His words trailed off, his eyes planting themselves to the floor.

“What are ye sayin’, Doc? Is my brother goin’ ta be alright?” Enora asked. By the way his facial expression changed, she knew that there was no hope for Aiden. Dr. Winrow shook his head, placing a large hand on her shoulder. “How long?” She asked weakly.

“A week, give or take, without surgery. We can attempt to recover any major organs but…whether or not he even pulls through…I’d say that’d be a miracle,” Dr. Winrow said before he got a call on his pager. “Excuse me, Enora. This is important. Um…take care, alright? Okay.” He turned on his heel and quickly walked away.

Enora’s shoulders drooped and she could feel tears burning behind her eyes. This can’t be happenin’, she thought. Not ta me baby brother. Not ta me Aiden. She felt her body start to shake and before she had time to react, her knees buckled beneath her. She nearly crashed to the ground, but was caught by her waist and placed in a nearby chair.

Gazing up, she saw her savior was one of the two brothers from earlier. He gave Enora a soft smile and took a seat next to her. “Ye alright, love?” He asked quietly. Not able to form any words, Enora just shook her head and bit down on her lower lip. Lord, take me instead. Please, Father, take me, she prayed as the Irishman glanced at her sympathetically. “Ye need anything?” He asked. Enora shook her head again and felt a small pressure on her shoulder. His hand was warm and gave the grieving sister little comfort, but the thought was nice. Enora gave him a weak smile, to which he returned lightly. “Wha’s yer name, lass?”

“Enora,” She whispered. “Enora O’Connell.”

“Tha’s a beautiful name,” He grinned, his blue eyes sparkling kindly. “I’m Murphy.”

Enora nodded and offered him a small smile. “Nice ta meet ye, Murphy.”

“Likewise,” Murphy said before pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “I know ye don’ want ta leave yer brother, but maybe gettin’ some fresh air will help ye clear ye head?” He handed her a cigarette. “Care ta join me?” Enora glanced at her brother’s room. She could see through the crack in the door as he lifted the cup of water to his lips and weakly took a sip. He looked so frail and vulnerable, and that made Enora want to die.

“Let me just tell me brother,” She told Murphy, who gave her a nod and a small smile in return. She headed to Aiden’s room and gave him a small smile. “I’m gonna go have a smoke. Ye need anything?” He shook his head bitterly, obviously still angered with her about their previous conversation. Guilt stabbed at her stomach and she felt more tears in her eyes. “Don’ be like that, deartháir. Please,”

Aiden glanced up when he heard the Gaelic and sighed a bit. “Tá brón orm. Déan deifir ar ais.”

Enora nodded. “O’ course,” She left the room and followed a patient Murphy to the elevators. He gave her a small smile and handed her a cigarette. “Tha’s a nasty gash on ye head,” She observed as he pressed the button for the first floor. “Bar fight?”

“Not exactly,” He chuckled. The elevator doors opened and he let her out first, following behind her closely. “Just a misunderstandin’.”

A small smile came to Enora’s lips as the cold Boston air brushed against the two. It was the middle of January and just her luck, she had forgotten her coat. Her long sleeve shirt did little to keep the cold air from hitting her skin, and she envied Murphy for his large, black coat. “Seems like a lot more tha’,” She murmured, her eyes roaming his injured face. Even with the bruises, he was still so attractive. “But it’s yer business,” A cold gust of wind caused her arms to fly around her body in attempt to keep herself warm.

Murphy took notice and pulled off his large coat. “Not exactly tha smartest idea ta be without a coat, y'know.” He joked and gingerly placed it around her shoulders.

“Ah, ye don’t have ta do tha’,” Enora argued, noticing his thin long-sleeve shirt. “Ye’ll freeze yer ass off.”

“Anythin’ for a pretty lass like yeself,” He gave her a cute grin and Enora could feel herself blushing like an idiot. His face sobered up and he sympathetically glanced over at the curly-haired beauty as she took a drag off the cigarette. “If ye don’ mine me askin’, what happened to ye brother?”

Enora’s throat tightened up at his question and she took another long drag. “He was mugged,” She said and exhaled, her voice void of any emotion. By the look on Murphy’s face, he knew she was lying. Enora shrugged and pulled his coat tighter around her. It smelled like cologne, cigarettes, and whiskey. It was nice.

Murphy’s eyes met Enora’s, his stormy blue orbs swarming with concern. “Ye can trust me, Enora,” He whispered. “I won’ go runnin’ of ta the authorities.”

She shook her head, her dark brown curls dancing around in the cold air. “It’s nothin’ ta be worried about. Besides,” Enora’s eyes started tearing up. “He doesn’t have much longer, anyways.” Murphy’s face fell as a couple tears escaped her eyes. Stepping closer, he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks and engulfed her into his chest. His body was warm and comforting, but it didn’t help the fact that in a week, Enora would be an only child for the second time in her life.

“I’m sorry, álainn.” His voice was soft as she cried, and the Gaelic helped calm her down. He glanced at her rosary and smiled a bit. “I’m sure the Lord has a plan fer ye brother. Ye’ll just have ta wait an’ see.”

Enora nodded and pulled away from him a bit, her tears finally drying up. She was never a big crier. Growing up a poor kid in a bad neighborhood, she had to learn to toughen up, especially since she was the only girl in an all-male family. She gave Murphy a small smile. “Thanks, Murphy. I think I really needed tha’.”

“Yer welcome, love,” He grinned and twisted out his cigarette, Enora following his lead. “Let’s get inside. It’s fuckin’ freezin’ out ‘ere.”

---

“So ye talked to the doctor,” Aiden spoke up as Enora came through the door. Murphy had said his goodbyes and promised to stop by before his brother was discharged. Enora enjoyed his company and appreciated him for taking her mind off of her brother. Not to mention, he wasn’t bad to look at.

Enora was caught off guard by her brother’s words, forgetting her time with the cute Irishman. Her throat tightened up and she could feel more tears in her eyes. Stop it, Enora, she scolded herself, sounding eerily like her father. Ya need ta be strong fer ya brother. Calmly, Enora pulled the chair up closer to her brother’s bed before taking a seat. She could see the nervousness in his eyes and that made her heart plummet into her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she gave him a small smile and held his large hand in hers. “Aye, I did,” She murmured and squeezed his hand. “The bullet…it did a lotta damage, Aid.”

Aiden nodded, his jaw set tightly. “And?”

“Well,” She gulped and her bottom lip started to quiver. She took another shaky breath. “They’re givin’ ye a week, Aiden. They said…they said they could do more surgery but th’ Doc said it’d be a damn miracle if ye even pulled through.” Enora shook her head. “But, we’re gonna do th’ surgery. He said ye might not pull through, but if ye do then ye’ll be fine. Yer gonna be fine.”

Aiden’s grip on his sister’s hand tightened and he shook his head, a small, sad smile on his lips. “Enora, tá mé ag dul bás. Sin a bhfuil plean Dé.” Enora pulled back from her brother at his words and let the tears fall from her eyes. She couldn’t believe what her brother was saying. He was okay with dying? He was okay with leaving her behind? How could he be okay with this?

“No, Aiden,” She said stubbornly, a tear falling from her eye. “I’m not lettin’ ye die. Yer not dyin’.”

Aiden chuckled and placed a kiss to his sister’s palm. “Tha’s not yer choice ta make, deirfiúr. And ye know it.”