Connor slept while Murphy rummaged through papers inside one of the drawers in their desk. Their father had died a couple weeks ago when he had fallen asleep while smoking and caught the whole apartment on fire. It was hard to believe by the large extent of damage that it had all been cause by one little cigarette. The rusty, metal desk was the only thing that survived. The brothers had moved the desk into their tiny one room apartment without even checking to see what was inside. The death of their father had hit them like a punch to the stomach, they had just been reunited with him only months before. Since his funeral they had spent every night at the Irish pub just around the corner. However, Doc, concerned about the boys' health, told them tonight to go home and get some rest.

Connor had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. But no matter how hard he tried Murphy could not fall asleep. He kept staring at his father's desk across the room. Even after spending the last few months with him, the guys didn't learn much about the past. Their father always changed the subject when one of them brought it up. Murphy stared down the desk 'til he couldn't take it anymore.

Now he shuffled through papers, searching for something that could satisfy his hunger for knowledge about his past. But nothing he found was useful. The only thing that seemed interesting was a note with a phone number and an address on it. It was right in Boston near where the saints lived. He decided to check it out in the morning. He looked over at his brother who was sleeping so peacefully. He wished for the same and turned out the light.