The Emo Mafia

•It's come to this•

Tonight was the night, Pete was sure of it, and he was as ready as he'd ever be. This was his last chance to get everything in order before bullets would start flying, and blood would start shedding. People were going to get hurt tonight, maybe even die, and he couldn't risk Patrick getting hurt in any crossfire. He promised himself he'd get out of the Emo Mafia once this all blew over, or at the very least do less hurting and killing, it had become a habit that he needed to kick. He'd take Patrick and get the hell out of Chicago, leave this life behind and start a new one. Have the life that he always wished he had.

It was nearly eight o'clock and Joe, Gabe, and Andy were due back at the house any second. He told Andy to bring his tattoo stuff for a special 'project' apparently and Andy wanted to question it but decided it was better not to. He'd just have to go along with it.

When the three men finally did arrive, they headed straight down to the basement where Pete said to meet him and awaited instruction.

"Good, you're here." Pete says once the boys enter, then gets right to the point. "Andy, go ahead and set your stuff up. Patrick'll be down in a minute. You two, follow me."

Pete leads Joe and Gabe to the makeshift conference room where the rest of the gang is already waiting, sitting at the round table in the center of the room. When Pete stands at the front, everyone instantly shuts their mouths. He faces his gang, well what's left of it, and prepares to say probably the second most important words that will ever leave his mouth.

"Good evenin' fellas," He begins, getting a mutter of 'good evening' from the group. "I'm gonna try to keep this brief, okay. Tonight is probably the most important night of our lives, you all know why, and I'm sure you know what's gonna happen. This is war, it could last half an hour or the whole fuckin' weekend but either way we will come out on top." Pete sighs, nods solemnly, then continues.

"I, uh... I might lose some of you, maybe even all of you. Hell, maybe I'll die tonight. There's no guarantee that we'll all make it out alive, but I'd want nothin' more than to go down fightin' beside the people I've grown up with. You guys are my family and I'd take a bullet for any one of you." He looks over the gang of men, mentally saying his goodbyes to them as he may never see them again. Anything could happen tonight.

Then he gives them all one of his famous smirks and shouts encouragingly, "Now let's get our shit and take those Blurryface sons of bitches out of our city!" followed by everyone getting up out of their seats and cheering. Partially to mask their fear since they've never done anything like this before, but they were ready. They had no choice but to be ready.

They all grab their gear and exit the room, heading upstairs to the living room to get everything situated. Pete stays behind in the conference room, plopping down into an empty chair and hiding his face in his hands. He has a much smaller team than Blurryface does, he knows that for sure, and going against them is like an ant singlehandedly trying to take on a spider. There's no way they could win, but there's no backing out now.

"Pete?"

Pete snaps his head up at the voice he had become all too familiar with, he still had to get used to Patrick saying his first name though.

"Everything okay?" Patrick asks quietly, poking his head through the doorway.

Pete nods then motions for Patrick to come in. Patrick does, making sure the door was shut behind him, and Pete meets him at door.

"Whad'ya need?" Pete asks.

"Nothing. I know a lot is going on tonight and I just wanted to see if you were okay." His words earn him a soft smile.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"I will be."

"Promise?"