OK, so I know we have been on a ridiculously long hiatus here, but I couldn't get this chapter to work the way I wanted it to. I still thought you all deserved something, though, so I just found a good breaking point in the chapter and split it up. I promised MadEve some revenge for Murphy in this chapter, and I had originally planned on it, but it looks like that is going to have to wait until chapter five that was originally supposed to be the second half of chapter four.
Follow me
I've seen so much, I'm blind again
Follow me
I feel so bad, I'm alive again
Follow me
Slipknot-Circle
The three Irishmen sat in a triangle on the floor of Patrick's open cell. Conner and Murphy would, of cores, still be friends with Patrick even if they would not join Fire Domain, or if they thought Patrick's elevator might not have gone all the way to the top.
"Do you know what make us Irishmen?" Patrick asked to whichever brother would respond first.
"'Cause we're from Ireland?" Murphy sarcastically stated the obvious.
Patrick corrected and and clapped Murphy on the shoulder (luckily the left shoulder), "No, no, well, yes, but it's our pride! If an Irishman doesn't have pride at least twice as big as his dick, they don't let him be an Irishman!"
Conner laughed. "That's when they call them Englishmen, aye?"
This rendered wholehearted laughs from Patrick and Murphy both.
Over the sound of their own laughter, they heard someone in the hall walking and singing.
"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts diddly, diddly , there they are, standing in a row..."
Patrick answered Conner and Murphy's curious looks by explaining, "That's just Dante. Oh, shit, I owe him cigarets!"
The singing continued and sounded like it was right outside the cell, "Big ones, small ones, some as big as my dick...hay, what's up, Camel? Got those smokes you owe me?" A large black man stopped in the doorway. He had a clean-shaven head and a face covered with scars. He looked like he may have at one point been quite good looking had he not apparently stuck his face in a lawnmower. He had tattoos across his knuckles, "hate" on the left hand and "love" on the right.
"I won't have them 'till tomorrow," Patrick answered.
Dante shook his head. "What the fuck am I going to do with you, Camel?" Dante's straight face told them all that he wasn't joking.
Patrick kept his cool and chuckled. "You're going to get the fuck off my property, you big black bastard."
Dante rolled his eyes. "You better fucking have them tomorrow," he warned and began to walk away. He stopped and turned around slowly.
Conner's eyes glued onto Murphy. He couldn't help thinking Dante would say something to them. Whatever happened, he was determined to protect Murphy this time.
Murphy couldn't help but hold his breath. He felt the lighthearted evening begin to fall apart. Was this going to be a repeat of the yard incident a week ago? He felt sick.
"One more thing, Patrick. Should I start calling you Saint Patrick? I can't help but notice the new company you keep. Let me ask you something, what are you doing wasting your time with these fuckfaces?" Dante then looked straight at Murphy. "Hay, I remember you. Pit Bull sicked the whole fucking yard on your ass!"
Without missing a beat, Conner stood and launched himself at Dante, followed closely by Patrick.
"Conner, no!" Murphy protested. "Fuck my life," he muttered and got up and joined the fight. What else was he supposed to do, anyway?
There were fore guards there to break up the fight before any good hits were landed. Patrick and Murphy weren't hard to restrain, it was Conner and Dante that had to be ripped apart.
"Don't fight the guard, Conner!" Murphy shouted.
Conner pushed Dante away without the guard having to touch him. Dante willingly backed off from the guards and the fight. As he backed away, he cursed a warning to Conner. "I'll fuck you up, Saint! I'll fuck you up!"
The guards holding the brothers and Patrick let go when they saw that Dante was leaving. "You micks just can't stay out of trouble, can you?" One guard commented, shaking his head.
"Well that was fun!" Patrick exclaimed when the guards had returned to their posts.
Murphy pushed Patrick's shoulder, not so hard that it was violent, but hard enough that it was obvious he wasn't joking. "Just what fucking part of that was fun?"
"The part where Dante ran off like a little fucking pussy!" Conner cut in.
"You," Murphy pointed at Conner, "Don't you think we get in enough trouble without you starting fights?"
"What the fuck was I supposed to do, just let him taunt and mock you like that? They fuck with you, they fuck with me. That's never gonna' change no matter where we are, go it?"
"They fuck with either of you, they fuck with me and trust me," Patrick assured, "They don't want to fuck with me unless they're brain damaged. And speaking of brain damage, I got someone I want you bros to meet."
Conner and Murphy gave each other confused looks, but, accepting that the subject had officially been changed at random and the conversation was over as quickly as it had started, they went along with Patrick and followed him to the cell block down stairs. If they were going to stay with Patrick, they would have to learn to get used to this.
