June 16, 1969

"Hey! Will!" Pete calls to the twink sitting up at the bar, "You wanna go for a smoke? We haven't talked in a while."

Will looks back and after quickly downing the rest of his shotglass, he nods, standing and following Pete out to the back room with a neutral, almost bored look across his slim but wide face. Pete's never really gotten a chance to take in Will. Sure, they've talked a few times but only in quick conversation and when it's absolutely necessary. The talk with him and Ryan only happened once but Pete still thinks of Will as a good friend, someone he can trust despite his sly looks. As Pete's russet eyes take in Will, he realizes just how wide his jaw is. He's always thought of the kid as some twink but his jaw is that of a bear's. He has a prominent, clefted chin and somewhat well defined cheekbones. His eyebrows are low above his eyes, meeting a shallow, straight bone but... out of it all what really stands out are those eyes. They're large and long-lashed but still tired and they've seen the wears of the world. It's depressing.

"What's up?"

Pete's snapped out of his thoughts and after a moment he replies, gathering his thoughts, "Nothing much." He grabs a pack of cigarettes and looks back at the brunette, "I'm just feeling good. Really good."

"Yeah?" Will smiles, humored by the way Pete's bouncing around as he lights their cigarettes, "Why's that?"

"I think I wanna get laid tonight," Pete says casually, "Not by you, but someone. I'm feeling good."

"By Gabe?"

"God, no," Pete mumbles.

"Patrick?"

Pete cocks an eyebrow, "Why would you suggest him?"

"Pete, everyone knows you're into him. It's no secret. You stare at him all the time, dude. And you always get like this after he talks to you. Just ask him out on a date or something. Nothing too fancy but... y'know, fancy enough," Will chuckles. Pete looks unamused. It's been two months since he slept with Gabe, two months since those words were put into his head, and while they've faded, they're still not completely gone. He knows that he likes Patrick as more than a friend but damn, he's been too anxious to do anything about it. He's terrified that maybe Patrick will judge him or he doesn't feel the same way.

"Just ask him," Will smiles, "I promise, it'll be okay. Maybe you could sleep with him tonight."

Pete can't help but sigh, then smile slightly as those words sink in and Ryan comes into sight from the lounge, a drink in hand.

"What are you two up to?" Ryan grins, hugging Will from behind and allowing Will a sip of whatever liquid is in the bottle, "I heard Brenda's gonna be on in five if you two wanna come."

"I think I'm good," Patrick says, pressing his cigarette into the ashtray on the table beside them, "I'm gonna go find Patrick."

Will smiles, "Go get 'em, man."

"Thank you."

Ryan and Will head on out, Ryan asking Will in a confused tone about what that was about but Will doesn't explain. Pete thanks him internally. After they've disappeared, Pete pulls into one of the backrooms, falling back on the bed and taking a deep breath as he shuts his eyes and tries to summon up his courage. He knows all he has to do is talk to him, start a conversation... ask him to go on a date... maybe as friends to that cafe downtown or just to hang out at home... Maybe...

That's when he hears a shrill scream and his eyes open faster than the sudden racing of his heart.

"Please don't hurt me, please!" That's Bren. Pete rises to his feet and sprints out the door, looking down the hall. He can't see much through the bright lights but when they die down, his eyes adjust to see blue and black. Men with guns and bats and he chokes on his own spit when he realizes that isn't a murderer. It isn't a shoot up.

This is a raid. And those are the cops.

"Pete!"

His head whips back to see Patrick there at the end of the hall with Lindsey and Hayley by his side, "Pete, follow me!"

Guns fire, and he hears nothing but the ringing in his ears and screams as he follows the three of them to the end of the hall and to the right into the last bedroom. Pete shuts the door as soon as they're in, eyes wide and heart pounding in his chest and he sees Hayley with tears in her eyes, clinging to Lindsey like her life depends on it.

"There's a trapdoor under this bed that leads to their wine cellar, we can hide down there until they leave," Patrick says, then turns to Hayley and Lindsey, "You have to get in there."

Hayley nods, wiping her tears as she shakily falls to her hands and knees and crawls under the bed, disappearing from Pete's sight. Lindsey follows right behind her, going much braver and when she, too, has disappeared, Pete looks to Patrick with wide eyes, waiting for the blond to go but instead, Patrick only motions him on. Pete is hesitant but when he hears boots coming down the hall behind him, he immediately heads in, squeezing under the bed and tumbling headfirst into the opening. Lindsey and Hayley just barely catching him in time. Patrick follows not long after, shutting the trapdoor behind him while boots shake the floor above them. There is no sound above the trapdoor. They are safe.

Pete's heart is racing and he can feel every muscle in his body telling him to scream for help or panic but all he does is cling onto Patrick and cry in sheer fear. Patrick hushes him. Holds him. Whispers to him that it'll be okay. They're okay.

It's all he can do, because he's just as afraid.

***

Knock, knock, knock

...

Knock, knock, knock

Lindsey looks to Patrick and Pete with pure terror in her eyes. Have they been found? Are they gonna die? Be sent to jail? She clings onto Hayley who's shaking harder than Pete's ever seen anyone before. They all wait in silence. They listen, cock their ears, wait for some sort of sign that the intruder has given up. That they're okay. That the cops haven't found them.

That's when a voice rings out.

"Hello? Is anyone down there? I-It's Dallon. The cops are gone. It's safe to come out. They're gone."

They look around at each other and soon enough, Patrick leans up and presses open the trapdoor just the slightest. Sure enough, those brunette locks and that sunken face come into sight and Dallon is right there, leaning over the trapdoor, "It's okay. It's over now."

As soon as they're out of the wine cellar, Pete knows something is wrong. He knows it's much more than just the cops being gone and the club being safe again. He gets this sinking feeling in his chest and he looks right at Dallon as if he would know what Pete's asking. Dallon looks back, but he doesn't look him in the eyes, he lowers them. Something is wrong. Everything is not right.

"What happened?" Pete asks, holding Lindsey's hand gently. They all feel it.

Dallon clears his throat, looking around, then over at the wall, trying desperately to avoid their glances, "I... I'm afraid one of us didn't make it out alive."

"Who?" Patrick demands, immediately stepping forward with wide eyes.

"It..." Dallon rests his head in his hands then, after a long moment and a breath that shakes his entire body, he continues, "You should see it yourself..."

Patrick glances at Pete, then back at Dallon who's begun walking out of the room. Patrick goes sprinting ahead, and Pete follows not far behind, his mind racing and his heart pounding and his hands shaking. Everything is falling apart, everything has fallen apart. This is the aftermath. This is... this is all they have left. It's all over now. Who was it? Who killed them? Was it Frank? Brendon? Will? Pete remembers Will telling him that Bren would be onstage.

"Oh my god," Patrick gasps. Pete walks up beside him and everything stops. His breathing catches, his eyes widen. Everything goes silent and he feels absolutely nothing but a numb, coldness spreading through his very bones.

There he is. Black liquid leaking from his chest, where a bullet hole resides. Dark red stains ruining his shirt and Pete goes weak at the knees when he sees everything else. rounded cheekbones. That black sporting jacket. Those empty, dark chocolate eyes.

Gabe's empty eyes.

"Gabe," Patrick whispers, falling to his knees, "Gabe, no. No, no, no. Gabe. Gabe!"

Hayley gasps covering her lips and burying herself deep into Lindsey's chest as full body sobs rack her body. Dallon grips his fists hard and looks away not long after, unable to gaze upon that limp body any longer.

"They just left him. They just fucking left him like he didn't even matter," Dallon whispers, "Almost everyone got away as fast as they could. Travie didn't see it. I can't tell him... I... They arrested Will, Brendon, Andy, and Josh. They just... they..."

Pete shuts his eyes and looks away, gripping his hands into fists as tears rise to his eyes. Gabe never deserved this. None of them did.

"We need to go home," Pete whispers, rubbing Patrick's back but Patrick only screams, gripping Gabe's body in his arms while he weeps harder than he ever has before.

Pete swears he can feel God's tears falling on all of them.