Fic: Saints & Martyrs

[csi_sanders1129]

Title: Saints & Martyrs
Chapters: 4/4
Author: csi_sanders1129
Genre: AU. Drama. Romance.
Ratings: M, for language, and probably violence, too.
Word Count: ~1000
Pairings/Characters: Jason/Spinelli. Conner, Murphy, Smecker present.
Synopsis: The Saints of South Boston move on to Port Charles, New York to take out the rivaling mob organizations.
Comments: Okay, couple things. One: lots and lots of character death. It's the Saints, what did you expect, puppies and - you know what? Let's stay away from the Saints and animals. Just to be safe. Two: Ugh, also, this fic takes place in kind of an AU where the Zacchara's aren't around. Three: OC's are mine. This is the last part, so I hope you enjoy!

The room is nothing but a fuzzy blur in front of him when he wakes, his throat sore and his muscles totally uncooperative. The anesthesia must still be pretty concentrated in his system, he figures, once he realizes that he is, indeed, still in General Hospital. With considerable effort, he lifts his head enough to examine his wounded leg. It’s casted and bandaged with a sizeable amount of supplies, but at present it doesn’t hurt. Which is certainly a nice change.

 

Exhausted just from that small task, his head falls back against the bed and he passes out again.

 

***

 

“What do you mean, it’ll just stop now?” Mac demands of the strange FBI Agent currently packing up his supplies. “We still don’t know who was responsible!”

 

Smecker sighs impatiently and rolls his eyes. “I am aware of that. But, seeing as they went through all of the targets they could have had here, your vigilante’s are undoubtedly moving on to somewhere else. Your city is safe again. So just let my department handle the rest and don’t worry you’re pretty little head about a thing.” He shrugs into his coat and makes for the door, anxious to escape the crazy town of Port Charles, New York.

 

 “Good riddance.” He hears the Commissioner shoot in his general direction.

 

“Same to you, jackass.” He grumbles.

 

***

 

The next time Spinelli wakes up, he is in considerable pain, so much so that he wakes up screaming and thankfully ends up simply passing right back out again. Robin is there, he thinks, talking to him as she sedates him back into unconsciousness.

 

***

 

“Oi, catch,” Conner calls, tossing his brother’s bag across the room to its owner. They’ve spent the better part of the day sanitizing their own safe house, making sure nothing is left behind that can tie them to any of the numerous murders.

 

Murphy slings the bag over his shoulder and grabs up one that contains most of their ammo. “Ya ready ta get out o’ here?”

 

Conner nods. He’s more than ready to put this one behind them. “Aye. C’mon. We gotta meet up with Smecker b’fore nightfall.” It’s their customary plan after finishing in a town, once they’ve decided what they’re next move will be. This time, they’re taking a break for a bit before heading out to the next job, flying below the radar after the well publicized slayings in Port Charles.

 

“Can ya believe he talked us inta tha’?”

 

***

 

Spinelli wakes up this time in a bit of pain, but nothing unbearable. His vision is clear and no doctors are present to pester him. It’s also when he discovers that he isn’t alone in the room. Someone is sleeping in the chair beside him. That someone is cast in the shadow of the dark room, but Spinelli would recognize him anywhere.

 

“Stone Cold?” He calls out in utter disbelief.

 

Slowly at first, but then quite rapidly, Jason stirs, blue eyes blinking as he returns to consciousness.

 

“Stone Cold!” Spinelli repeats. “You’re… alive? How are you alive?” He demands, one arm reaching out for the man who sacrificed himself to save him.

 

Jason slides to sit on the edge of the bed, his right arm encased in a plaster cast not unlike the one on Spinelli’s leg. However, he is not interested in answering Spinelli’s question. Instead, he ducks his head and presses a kiss to Spinelli’s hospital chapped lips, brushing the hair away from his face with his good hand.

 

Spinelli kisses back like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get. After all, the last time they’d kissed, he had thought it would be. Now, now that Jason is alive and safe and here, he’s not letting go anytime soon.

 

“How’s the arm?” Spinelli asks when they finally do break apart – just before the machines monitoring his condition would have alerted the medical personnel.

 

“It’s alright.” The elder answers, with his typical Stone Coldness. It takes a lot of pain to bother Jason. “How’s the knee?”

 

“Endurable, for the present moment, it seems.” Spinelli answers, just as he catches sight of some rather reddened looking marks on Jason’s uncasted arm, and he suspects that they’re under the plaster, as well. “The Saints were not terribly trusting, I take it?”

 

Jason shakes his head. “Not for the driving part.” He unconsciously rubs at where the mark on his wrist would be if not for the cast. “Once we got into Sonny’s they untied me.”

 

Which reminds Spinelli of a rather relevant question. “Were the Brotherly Butchers successful in their attempts to eliminate Mr. Sir?”

 

“Yeah, Sonny’s dead. Max and Milo, too. If you haven’t heard.” He shrugs. Max and Milo, he’ll miss. Sonny… not so much.

But, in all seriousness, Spinelli returns to his previous inquiry. “How were you able to escape the not-so-Saintly ones, Stone Cold?”

 

Jason shifts, bracing himself with his good arm to get more comfortable. “That weird FBI Agent who took over Raynor’s job showed up.” Spinelli nods for him to continue, and Jason figures he already figured out Smecker’s involvement with Conner and Murphy. “He stopped the Saints and changed the terms of the deal. Either you and I leave the mob and Port Charles or they come back and finish what they started.”

 

First and foremost, Spinelli is beyond grateful that Smecker took his half-drugged arguments concerning Jason’s criminal past to heart and acted on them. He lets out a relieved sigh and lets his head drop back against the pillows for a moment, his hand curling around Jason’s good one. “When?”

 

“Once your leg is a little better.” He’s not sure if there’s a time limit on the Saints offer, but he’s certainly not taking any chances with Spinelli’s safety, or with his own. “I’ll find us a place, and then we’ll get out of here.”

 

“But not now?”

 

Jason smiles. “Not now,” He answers, and kisses Spinelli once more. Something he’ll look forward to doing a lot more of once they start their new life away from the danger of both mob life and the Saints.

 

.