Ray was furious; an emotion perfectly indicated by the growl that came out of his mouth when Seamus knocked him down to the ground. He’d expected retaliation from the stupid man. Seamus was sure reckless and stupid enough to throw himself at an armed Italian.
However he found himself flabbergasted again when the man pointed the gun at his chin.
Was he tempted to pull the trigger? Yes.
That would mean throwing away all the shit he’d done, all the things he’d put himself through and all that he had risked just to get here. Now it was being throwing right back in his face in Seamus’ yet another fit of rage. His hold on the gun lessened a fraction when Seamus’ fist collided with his face but once his brain got a hold of the situation, he instinctively tightened his grip again.
He wasn’t going to allow this to happen. The second Seamus gripped his head Ray shifted all his weight and pushed in order to throw the larger man off of him. He scrambled up and before Seamus could do anything Ray pointed the gun at the man’s right arm.
"Why? Because I was foolish enough to believe you would understand what a friend looks like but you’re loyal to no one. No one but your own damn misery."
Without a second of hesitation, he pulled the trigger. The deafening sound echoed in Ray’s ears long after the bullet pierced Seamus’ skin.
"I want you to go now."
Seamus could barely believe what was happening. It was all a blur. Ray was holding the gun, saying something then everything went quiet. The gun fired and before he knew what was happening Seamus felt the bullet tearing through his flesh. The pain was searing through his whole arm but this was not his first bullet wound.
He reached down instinctively gripping just above the wound stopping the blood flow. “YER FUCKIN’ SHOT ME!” Seamus screamed getting up on his feet and stumbling away from Ray. “I was unarmed! Yer a coward!” He hissed clutching at his arm. “Yer fuckin’ pathetic!” He growled, his hand now covered in blood. He was starting to feel light headed now. He leaned against the wall taking slow labouring breaths.
“I’m fuckin’ leaving I hope yer happy!” He reached down his bloody hand slipping all over the counter top now. He finally found his keys and stumbled out the front door “YER GONNA REGRET THIS!” He roared through the door as he opened the door to his car and slumped into the drivers seat. Seamus’ vision was starting to go as he began jabbing the keys into the ignition hoping to get them in.
"Fuck…" He muttered to himself as he failed miserably at this task. Seamus soon dropped his keys and cursed again even louder than before. The pain and booze was starting to get to him. He lay back in the drivers seat and closed his eyes for a moment trying to regain his composition.
Ray had never felt so much rage struggling to get past his wall of self-control. He was ACTUALLY putting his life on the line for this fucking fool. He was risking Morello and Mancini ordering his goddamn execution for a man that would readily PISS on all that and literally spit in his face.
Oh, Ray was mad.
Seamus was projecting, calling him a homo and queer and whatnot. That didn’t bother Ray. Being gay wasn’t something he considered offensive so he didn’t really care when those words spilled out of Seamus’ mouth. It wasn’t that fueling his anger.
The complete lack of Seamus’ gratitude and respect struck him like a whip right across his face. He was only now getting the whiplash of his actions and this was perhaps one of the lighter repercussions.
Who has he been kidding thinking he could fix this lost cause?
He stood there, rooted to the spot after Seamus had spat in his face. His eyes narrowed, his teeth clenched, he felt about ready to murder a whole village.
His gun was safely tucked away in his waistband but he could feel it burning his skin; aching to get out. It was taking all of his willpower to keep his hand from straying as he caught up to Seamus and swung. The impact his hand made with the man’s face creating a nasty sound that broke the moment of stagnant silence.
Stumbling back, Ray did pull the gun out as quick as flash. He wasn’t risking it even around a very drunk Seamus. He wasn’t above using a gun on an unarmed Irishman. He wiped his face with his sleeve and glared at Seamus.
"You get the fuck out.
You go and search for someone who will put up with you,
because baby, Jack ain’t here no more.
And neither am I.”
Seamus stood rooted to the ground as Ray they a punch. The younger males fist hit him square in the jaw and god did it hurt. He could feel bone crack beneath Ray’s fist but he wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. He let out a slow shaky breath. Thank fuck the alcohol in his system had already dulled some of his pain receptors. He felt his mouth pooling with blood from where Ray had punched his jaw. He turned his head to the side, spitting a mouthful of blood to the floor. “Yer fuckin’ CUNT!” Seamus roared throwing himself at the Italian.
That’s when he saw it, the unmistakable glint of gun metal in the darkness. But Seamus’ intoxicated mind didn’t realise what a compromising position he’d gotten himself into. He reached out, hands searching for Ray’s throat. Wanting nothing more than to strangle the man standing in front of him. “I’m not goin’ anywhere until I fuckin’ KILL YER!” he screamed knocking Ray to the floor now, clutching at his hand and holding the gun up under his chin “Do it! Blow me brains all over tha’ fuckin’ wall why don’t yer?!” he growled. “DO IT…then all of this would ‘ave been fer nuttin’!” he smirked, rolling away on to his back now on the floor.
“What tha’ fuck is yer game?! Yer fucked up man…like….why’d yet save me? Why are yer riskin’ yer life fer me!? What do yer WANT from me?! I don’t fuckin’ KNOW Ray! I don’t I fuckin’ don’t so yer know tha’ you’d be doin’ EVERYONE a favour an’ fuckin’ kill me!” Seamus growled. “I hate yer…I fuckin’ HATE yer an’ EVERYTHIN’ tha’ yer stand fer!” He snapped, reaching out and hitting Ray square in the jaw. “Why do yer keep lettin’ me back in ter yer life when I’m toxic?!” he hissed “Jack done tha’ smart thing an’ left….he got some fuckin’ brains in his skull” he grunted, gripping his head. Everything was now getting incredibly blurry for Seamus. He felt like he was about to vomit and pass out both at the same time.
Ray wasn’t having the best of times. He was housing an Irish man - which he should have thrown to the goddamn curb. He was under close scrutiny from Angelo - another reason why Seamus should be back in Ainsburg and not polluting his house with his dirty laundry and stupid accent.
There was something in the air.
Something wasn’t right and he could feel it.
It was bothersome; sending random chills down his spine and he knew that Launceston was not windy enough to pierce through the layer of his leather clothing. Sometimes an instinct was a blessing; other times… it was just ominous.
Errands, errands, errands…
That was all Angelo and Sal had him doing. Back and forth between meaningless tasks that any dumb mutt could have completed. He knew they were punishing him for even associating with the Irish. He didn’t blame them, of course. He blamed Seamus a little bit but mostly he blamed himself…
…What in God’s name was he thinking?
The whole evening he could feel his blood boiling just underneath his skin. Completing one thing after another just to receive a text with the following instructions. He was being thrown all over town and there was no way his locations were a coincidence.
Mere punishment. If only they knew.
He arrived home around 2AM. He strolled through the door as tired as a damn dog. He craved nothing more than his bed, he didn’t even want to see Seamus.
As it came out, the sight of the Irishman was inevitable. He lay there on his coach in all of his intoxicated and fucked up glory. Ray really hadn’t the patience to deal with this. He was not about to explain himself or his absence.
"Clean your mess up. You will reimburse me for at least two of those bottles if you don’t shut the fuck up. I’m going to get a glass of water and when I come back I don’t… Just fucking sleep down here."
Seamus was more than a little riled up now. He didn’t like this at all. He was angry. He was pissed. He’d lost a brother. He’d lost his family they didn’t want shit to do with him now he spent all him time with an Italian. He knew they were calling him a traitor behind his back. He just…things were fucked up and Ray was there…he was right there and Seamus wanted to scream and yell and take out all his anger on him. He didn’t care that Ray was the ONLY one who’d been there for him, the only one who saved him.
“FUCK YOU!” Seamus roared as he swayed from side to side a little “I’ll do whatever tha’ fuck I want yer canny tell me SHIT!” he snarled, stepping towards Ray. “Yer a pussy, yer so fuckin’ pathetic!” he grunted squaring up with the man in front of him now. “Yer ‘aving fun bein’ a lil’ bitch boy for them ol’ fuckin’ Eye-Talian Queers eh? Bet yer just fuckin’ love lickin’ ass!” he growled pushing Ray in the chest a little. “Yer booze tastes like piss….I smoked in yer bed so yer probably don’t wanna sleep in there an’ I don’t care HOW many bitches yet fucked ternight it ain’t gonna change tha’ fact that yer LOVE getting’ it on with a dude. Yer a fuckin’ filthy queer and just lookin’ at yer makes me SICK!”
Seamus looked Ray up and down for a moment then without warning spat in Ray’s face “Fuckin’ dirty homo” he hissed before shoving Ray in the chest and making his way to the door “I’m goin’ back ter Ainsberg. Back ter people who care ‘bout me!” he slurred, loosing his footing not once but twice as he stumbled intoxicated, into the hallway. “Send me my shit….asshole. I won’t be comin’ back ‘ere no more ya hear me! Now….where tha’ fuck did I leave my bleedin’ keys?!” he muttered the end part to himself as he pat himself down trying to find the keys to his car which was currently residing in Ray’s dirveway.
It had been too long. He wasn’t usually out this late. Seamus frowned as he glanced down at his watch. He shook his head. Why did he even give a fuck where Ray was? It wasn’t like they were dating or anything. Seamus scoffed out loud at the thought. Ray was simply his room mate. He’d taken him in when no one else had been there for him. He’d helped him get over his drug issue but that was that…oh and that one night where they’d fucked. Well…they’d fucked a few times but it meant nothing. Ray wasn’t his. He wasn’t Ray’s. He had no claim whatsoever over him. However if this was the case then why did it make his blood boil imagining Ray with a woman? Charming her off her feet, fucking her stupid. Seamus clenched his fists tightly and cracked his knuckles one after another. This was stupid. He needed a release. He needed to calm down.
He needed….no. He’d sworn to Ray he’d never get high again but the thought of just a little hit of weed alone was enough to make him question his promise. No. No drugs. He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply, knowing there’d be hell to pay when Ray returned home and smelt the smoke on the bed sheets and in the curtains. He didn’t give a fuck right now. The nicotine was doing nothing for him so he stormed downstairs and decided to raid the liquor cabinet. Ray had a lot of expensive booze that Seamus couldn’t even pronounce let alone tell you what they were. He grabbed a bottle with the highest alcohol percentage and started to down it. It tasted like shit in Seamus’ opinion but whatever, as long as it made him forget these feelings he didn’t want to be having so be it. Seamus had soon downed the bottle and was on to the next. He continued to pattern of destructive behavior until four bottles were laying empty on the living room floor and Seamus was seeing double.
Damn near passed out on the couch he waited for Ray to return home. He was going to give him a piece of his mind. He was going to tell that asshole exactly where he could shove it. He managed to keep his eyes open long enough to see the front door open and Ray, strolling into the house around 2am “OH…look who it fuckin’ isn’t?! Finally decided ter come ‘ome did yeeerrr?! I hope yer ‘ad a GREAT time fuckin’ some slut…I hope yer fuckin’ tore tha’ pussy up…yer a cunt” he slurred getting to his feet with difficulty.
"Do you even know the definition of healthy food? Can I at least cook some dinner today?"
"I don’t care if yer think it’s healthy or not this shit tastes good!" he grinned then shrugged his shoulders a little "I guess…yeah sure…if yer wanna cook fer us go ahead kid, knock yersself out"
"Daddy.. I know that papa’s at his teacher’s trip thing and that you don’t cook and all that…"
"…but if I eat another pizza I will NOT be able to squeeze into my pants in time for the next party."
"It’s okay son…I won’t make yer eat pizza again….I got us hot dogs terday!"
"Aye come now…yer too skinny as it is! Put some meat on yer bones eh?!"