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Empty Hallways
Title: Empty Hallways
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Connor and Murph.
Pairing: Connor/Murph implied
Warning: Character death, angst, some schmoop
Summary: Set quite a ways into the future.
Notes: Written as a bit of work-related catharsis.
Thanks: To spiritkitty for her encouragement and proofreading skills.




The hall is silent.

The old man used to find this silence odd and somewhat disturbing, but he's begun to think of this hall as his, glad to be there when it's empty. In the early days, he smirks at this thought, he used to come during the day when the hall was full of doctors and nurses bustling about, the overhead page crackling with things like "Dr. Smith please call 4492 stat" in the most bored voice possible. Occasionally, Tammy Faye Baker look alikes with big "Volunteer" name tags would smile blandly at him as they shuffled along with flowers, or stuffed animals heading who knew where.

Once, his brother had been brought in late, after midnight, and he'd found himself trailing along behind the gurney from ER to the medical floor well after midnight. The empty halls had seemed almost ghostly and he remembered shivering a moment as he considered how many had passed away here over the years.

The medical floor was strangely quiet. There were fewer staff members at night, and the ones who were there seemed slightly frazzled, but they were gentle and attentive nonetheless.

He'd spent the night there, holding his brother's hand, dozing in a chair beside him or wandering the quiet halls in search of coffee or stepping out to the smoking area. Somewhere in that night, he stopped thinking of the empty halls as graveyards and more like a space he could call his. After that, he made it a point to visit his brother late, often spending the night with him.

This time the silence in the hall was a little too oppressive. This time the trip to the hospital was different. His brother was different. No matter how his body seemed to shrivel or fade, he always had a fire in his eyes, but this time, he'd looked in his eyes and only seen ashes.

The discussions with the doctors and nurses had been done, the decisions had been made. They had all been kind, straightforward, but it wasn't until he'd seen the fading embers in Murph's eyes, that he'd really believed.

This was the last admission.

The hall seemed interminable, his feet lead weights, as he made his way to Murph's room. In the doorway, he passed a shaky hand through his thin white hair, squared his shoulders and stepped in.

There was a nurse with Murph; she was just in the act of straightening Murph's covers and smoothing his thin, white hair back from his face. She looked up, smiling as Connor entered.

"See, Murph? I told you he'd be along shortly." She smiled down at the quiet form on the bed. Glancing up, she continued, "Did you get some rest today, Connor?"

Connor smiled his assent, mind flicking over the memory of the first time he'd met this particular nurse.

Murph had always been a handful and old age and dementia hadn't changed that. When this nurse, with her innocent young face and bright green eyes, had stepped into their room and announced who she was, he had groaned inwardly. Murph was gonna eat her alive!

And he had tried.

He'd really given her a run for her money, pulling out IV's, yanking off his oxygen, kicking his bed apart, screaming down the hall, and in general being a royal pain in the ass. Some things she'd let him get away with, kicking his bed apart, pulling his oxygen off (she just slipped it back on while he was sleeping), but there were times when her eyes would narrow just slightly, iron would thread her voice and much to Connor's amazement/amusement, Murph would acquiesce.

Tonight, however, there didn't seem to be much fight in the thin form on the bed. When Connor stepped up to the bed and ghosted his fingers over Murph's cheek, there wasn't even a flicker of acknowledgment.

Connor looked up at the nurse, eyes questioning.

"How much longer do you think he has?"

The nurse's eyes saddened just a little, she squared her shoulders slightly as she drew a deep breath.

"I don't know. I've seen people linger like this for weeks...and I've seen them go in hours." She sighed, looked down at Murph, and placed her hand over his. "I wish I could give you a time frame, but I can't. Everyone does this differently, but there are a few signs we look for that tell us the end is near."

"What signs?"

"Well, he has a catheter which tells us his kidneys are working. As things progress, they will work less and less and finally stop. We also watch the color changes in his legs and arms. As his heart and lungs begin to weaken, less oxygen reaches his extremities and they begin to 'mottle' and grow cool. Finally, we watch his breathing pattern. It will change. There will be periods where he's gasping for breath alternating with spaces in which he might not take a breath for 30 seconds or more. They sort of fade in and out of each other."

She looked up at Connor before continuing.

"My goal in caring for Murphy tonight is to keep him as comfortable as possible, but at this point he can't talk to me, tell me he's hurting. Sometimes, family members, people familiar with a patient's idiosyncrasies, can pick up on a patient's discomfort before I can. So, if you think at any point that he's uncomfortable, just let me know."

Connor glanced up at her, surprised slightly to see tears brimming in the corner of her eyes, not enough to fall, just enough to let Connor know that even though her voice was strong, she was not immune to the situation.

Connor was quiet for a moment, studying Murph's washed out form, wondering how the hell they had managed to reach old age and why the fuck it was Murph who was going first. Murph with his boundless energy and biting wit, Murph with his devil may care attitude and undying loyalty...How was he, Connor, to manage without him?

"Did you know he and I are twins?" Connor asked softly.

"No, I didn't." She replied.

"We were best mates, brothers to the last. We never lost a fight if we were in it together." He looked up with a wry smile. "You might not believe it to look at us now, but we've been in some real knock down bloody fights, he and I."

"Oh, I believe it." She said softly, but Connor didn't notice.

"When we were boys, if one of us was sick or hurt, the other would crawl into bed with him, curl up together, hold each other....Always seemed to make everything...better."

"Would you like to curl up with him now?"

"Can I?" Connor looked up surprised. "I-I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, or...or hurt Murph."

"No one will get into trouble and you won't hurt him, on some level he knows you're here and that will do more for him than any pain med I could give him."

She spent the next few minutes pulling covers away, shuffling pillows, helping him crawl in next to his brother, and then tucking them in together in a snug little cocoon.

"He looks more comfortable already," she said tucking a thin wisp of hair behind his ear and with that she left.

Connor tried not to think of how thin and fragile the body in his arms was compared to his memories of what he was before. Instead, he snuggled in closer in behind Murph, nuzzling the back of his neck softly, and that's where he found it. Underneath the smell of hospitals and decay, underneath the smell of old man and death, there was that scent that was pure Murph. It was weak, but it was there reminding him that no matter what was happening or where they were, this was Murphy, his Murphy. He closed his eyes and let himself melt in around him, just like he used to do when they were boys.

"Well, it's about bloody fuckin' time, what the fuck took you so long, ya daft wanker!" Connor didn't open his eyes at Murph's sharp words; he merely smiled, tightened his grip a little more and whispered.

"It's ok, Murph, just relax and go to sleep."

"Sleep? Sleep? Well, I've had just about enough of bloody sleep, and beds, and bossy nurses!"

"Give it up, Murph. I know how much you like that one. Why else would you fight her so much and then give in so easily?"

"Hasn't used 'the voice' on you yet, has she, mate?" Murph snorted. "You don't fuckin' mess with 'the voice'!" But more softly he added, "But yeah, I do like her, she's been good to me...good to you."

Murph shifted in his arms, turning towards him. "Now open your fuckin' eyes and let's get the fuckin' show on the road."

With a resigned sigh, Connor opened his eyes and felt his jaw drop. The eyes laughing into his weren't the dull, faded blue ones he expected, but sea storm blue and full of fire. Murph laughed at Connor's shocked expression and Connor felt it wash through him, felt Murph's body young, strong, and alive against him. Murph threw his head back in an open mouthed guffaw, kicked the covers off, and slung out of the bed to stretch like a cat in the moonlight.

Connor watched in awe as the moonlight glowed across Murph's skin, muscles and bones shifting underneath in a way that always made his breath catch. Murph turned to Connor then, holding out his hand and for a moment Connor could only stare. Finally, he reached out and took Murph's hand, letting him pull him to his feet. With a jolt that wasn't really surprise, he found that his own body had changed the way Murph's had, felt himself move and straighten with a strength and grace he hadn't had in years.

For a moment they regarded each other silently, then Murph slipped his free hand around the back of Connor's head, pulled him in for a soft brush of lips, and then hands entwined, they headed into the night.

Sometime later, the nurse came in to check on her patient. She paused for a moment, watching the moonlight play over the silent figures curled tightly together under the bedding and then a lone tear found its way down her cheek.

"You were waiting for him, weren't you, Murph?" She said quietly. Out in the hallway, she could hear the sounds of the hospital continuing: phones ringing, call lights going off, people talking in the hall, but for the moment she let that wash past her and let the tears fall unheeded.

Finally, with a sigh, she dried her eyes, straightened her shoulders, let her professionalism slip back into place, and stepped back out into the stream of noise and life, letting the brothers hold each other in the moonlight for just a little while longer.