"I hate you! I'm sorry it took me so damn long to realize that!" Barry's voice cracked, his shaky voice echoing, bouncing off the walls of the Billabong as warm, wet tears streamed down his face. "You don't mean that." Dundee challenged. "I know you don't mean that Barry." Secretly the Prime Minister was nervous. He knew he had been taking advantage of Barry's loyalty ever since they had formed the BBMC, but he was never one to admit to his faults. "See this is what I mean Dundee! First you challenge me when I politely ask you to do the bare minimum of not hurting my fucking son! For gods sake our son Dee! Why do you constantly challenge me? I'm sick of it, I'm sick of you! I'm done, Dee. I can't do this anymore." Barry clenched the keys to his sabre turbo. He said all that he needed to. The road captain huffed before turning toward his car. "You of all people I'd had expected to remember the rule." Dundee spoke almost menacingly. "Blood in, blood out Barry Benson. Are you really walking away from the club?" Dundee reached for his class one weapon sitting in his waistband as Barry turned back around to face his president. "No, I'm not walking away from the club. I'm walking away from you Dundee. I'm walking away from you." He turned back towards his car opening the door. Blind from rage the president began to blackout as he snatched the gun from his waistband, "I'm sorry but nobody walks away from Irwin fucking Dundee. Especially not you Barry Benson." Before the Road Captain could turn back around to object his ears began to ring as a bullet from his husbands gun penetrated his back, going all the way through his chest. The road captain began to bleed out, clutching his chest as his eyes once again filled with tears, stinging his tired, hurt eyes. All he had wanted to do was express his feelings to Dee, and go to bed somewhere alone. Warm, wet blood quickly began to pool in his own hands. "D-Dee?" Barry chirped before slipping out of consciousness, but before he could hit the concrete Dundee snapped out of his blackout fit of rage. He quickly grabbed his husband, laying him gently on the pavement "oh god what have I done, what the hell have I done!" Dundee quickly rips off his denim cuts, holding it as hard as he can against Barry's bullet wound to attempt to slow the bleeding. Dundee could hear sirens in the distance but he ignored them as he whimpered over Barry's unconscious body. "Husband please wake up! Please! I'm so sorry, please Barry I can't do this without you! The club needs you Barry I need you!" A familiar looking car screeched into the Billabong. "Dee what the hell happened to Barry!? I heard a gunshot and wanted to make sure everyone was alright!" Collin quickly ran to Barry's side to help aid his unconscious road captain. "Collin listen to me closely, I need you to take Barry to Pillbox, I'll hold down the Billy I'll explain everything that happened later! Now go!" Collin nodded following his Prime Minister's order. He was confused as to what was going on. Why was Dundee crying? He had never seen Dee cry before. Never mind that he thought. He picked Barry up bridal style placing him in his turbo gently and speeding off. Dundee wept for a few more minutes on the cold concrete of the Billabong. This place was supposed to be his home but it felt so empty without Barry by his side. Had he really done this? Had he shot his husband and soon to be Vice Prime Minister of the Bondi Boys and Babes Motor Club? The sulking man wiped his tears away before standing up. The fit of rage he was in previously was starting to come back as he began to kick his beloved paragon. Tears falling from his eyes. He kicked his paragon over, and over, and over again. "Stupid TJ!" He yelled. "Stupid son! Stupid Barry's dumb cop of a son!" He yelled as his rough voice cracked. "This wouldn't have happened at all if it wasn't for his stupid son!" The prime minister continued to kick his car until he felt he couldn't stand anymore. He fell to his knees as his phone began to buzz in his pocket. Great. Perfect timing. This better be good. Dundee quickly pulled out his phone. Nothing else mattered in the world but his husband right now. He picked up the phone as he held it to his ear, his fingers turning white as he gripped his phone. "Hello?" He whimpered into the phone sounding defeated. "Mr. Irwin Dundee?" The voice spoke into the phone. Dundee stayed silent. He was to upset to speak. The woman on the other end cleared her throat. "Um, you're the emergency contact for Barry Benson... I'd like to let you know that he's um." The woman couldn't finish her sentence before Dundee snapped. "Spit it the fuck out!" Dundee always did have a habit of taking his feelings out on other people. The woman sighed before speaking again. "Barry Benson, he um, he had no pulse when he was brought in... We've tried everything sir but he's um... He's gone. I'm so sorry." Dundee dropped his phone, cracking it in the process. "Mr. Dundee? Hello? S-sir are you still there?" His husband was gone. For real gone, and now he had to live the rest of his life lying to his club and living with the fact that he, and nobody else but him, killed his own husband.
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