"Yeah, I think we lost 'em," Julius said, twisting in his seat to look behind us. I checked the review mirror and confirmed his observation; the wailing sirens had faded into the distance and there was no more glare of flashing lights against the brick and blacktop.

I glanced sideways to see him roll down his window and spit more blood. He made a face, reaching into his mouth and pulling out a tooth. "Jesus, Playa," he muttered, tossing the molar before rolling up the window again.

Now there were bloody fingerprints on the inside of my door.

I jerked the wheel hard right to turn into the museum drive, roaring down the short road and braking suddenly to a stop in front of the Greek-style building. I had tried to go back to Purgatory after leaving the church, but the Masako bastards had predicted that and been ready with tanks, roadblocks, and helicopters. If not for a few well-placed rockets courtesy of Pierce, we wouldn't have made it out of Saints' Row at all.

It had been Julius' idea to go to the museum district. He'd claimed to know the area well – said the winding streets and alleyways would give us ample opportunity to lose our pursuit. He was right… but now that we'd lost Ultor's army, I wasn't going to waste any more time in getting some answers.

The museum was as good a spot to stop as any. It was virtually abandoned this late in the day; the shadows cast by the looming ruins around the amphitheater provided good enough cover. I got out of the car and stalked down the hill. I have no idea what made me think Julius would follow; maybe it was the impression he gave of still not taking me seriously. He still thought of himself as my savior, my boss, the one in control, the one pulling the strings. He still thought of me as a pawn, to be moved around however he wished.

He was about to find out how drastically things had changed. I pulled the Vice from my waistband as I heard his door open and shut; heard his footsteps on the grass behind me.

I reached the bottom of the theater and glanced around at the stone bleachers etched into the surrounding hill. Like a coliseum… a coliseum for execution…

Our footsteps on the flat rocks echoed softly into the twilight, the only sound except for the crickets and now-far-away blare of sirens. I expected my boys would keep the cops busy long enough for me to finish with Julius.

"Just like old times, Playa," he said suddenly.

His casual tone snapped my last thread of restraint. "Yeah." I spun around and shot him.

Julius staggered as the bullet punched into his chest, then stumbled and fell. He stared down at the ragged hole, lifting one hand to touch it as if he couldn't believe it was real. "Jesus," he breathed, glaring up at me, "I thought we were past this shit."

"Not by a fucking long shot," I snarled, advancing on him with my gun still raised.

He drug himself backwards as I approached, shaking his head in exasperation. "Don't you get it? The Saints didn't solve a goddamn thing. Drugs were still getting pushed, innocent people were still getting killed…" His back hit the base of a pillar and he leaned against it, one hand still covering the bullet wound, the blood seeping between his fingers. "All we did was turn into Vice Kings that wore purple."

I stared at him. It was like I didn't know him – had never known him. How could this be the same man who had once delivered powerful speeches about taking back the Row? "Jesus Christ," I muttered, "you sound like a pussy."

"I sound like someone who isn't a sociopath!"

"You wanna be the killer with a conscience?" I snapped, furious that he'd dare to label me a sociopath when he was the one who'd made me, when I'd been doing his bidding, when he'd been the one who'd betrayed everyone who believed in him… "Fine! Drop your flags and write a book like King. But you never shoulda came after me!"

"You sayin' if I'd of asked you to walk away, you would have said yes?"

"Fuck no!" I spat, not understanding how any of this could be coming out of his mouth. I'd busted my ass for the Saints; suffered a lot, survived a lot, risked a lot – Johnny had a permanent limp and Lin was dead – how could he expect any of us to walk away after everything we'd put into the Saints? "This is my city!" I said vehemently, beginning to pace back and forth in front of him. He was crazy if he thought I would ever give that up.

Julius gave a disappointed grunt. "Jesus. You haven't learned a goddamn thing."

"Wrong." I faced him again, pointing the gun at his head. "I've learned bein' in charge is better than bein' a bitch who keeps his mouth shut and does what he's told." I shook my head, my tone turning cold. "Your time's over, old man."

He gave me a strange look, and despite the blood slowing spreading across his shirt, his eyes were unusually bright. Maybe he had finally come to realize that I wasn't fucking around, that I was going to kill him, no matter what he said. "What's happened to you?" he finally asked.

I got betrayed by the man who'd saved my life, who'd given me a purpose, who'd made me believe in something…

"I woke up," I said curtly, shrugging. Literally and figuratively.

"You owe me, Playa," Julius said lowly, all business now. "If it weren't for me, you would have died on that street corner."

"If it weren't for you I wouldn't have been in a goddamn coma!" I shouted.

"I guess that makes us even," Julius said, looking me right in the eye, daring me.

I lifted the Vice and put a bullet in his head. Blood splattered the pillar behind him as his body jerked and then sagged, limp and lifeless. The gun blast echoed around the amphitheater before rolling away over the grassy hills. And then everything was silent.

"Not really," I growled.

I stood there for a second more, letting it sink in that it was over – he was dead. Then I turned my back on him and walked away into the setting sun, back to the car.

I took a long, winding, round-about way back to Purgatory, switching cars a few times at my various cribs and hijacking the last one to make sure the cops were off my back. It was well past dark by the time I finally pulled up outside the club; to my relief it looked quiet. At least there were no FBI trucks or SWAT vehicles in the parking lot. Just cars I recognized.

I left the piece-of-junk car I'd stolen on the side of the road and crossed the pavement to the main entrance, nodding to the two guys posted as guards and taking the elevator down to the main level. As soon as I rounded the corner to the top of the stairs, a hush washed over the room, rippling from one side to the other. Shaundi stood by the bar; she reached over and turned off the blaring radio and the hideout was plunged into eerie silence. All eyes looked at me.

They all knew I had gone to find out about Julius. Likely Shaundi, Pierce, or Gat had already broken the news that Julius himself had shown up at the church. And now everyone was eager to know how things had turned out.

I kept them in suspense for a moment longer, making my way leisurely down the stairs to the middle platform to stand in front of the purple-lighted angel statue. I crossed my arms, unable to help the smile from breaking out across my face. "Julius Little is dead," I said.

A cheer went up; guns were raised, glasses were emptied. Shaundi turned on the radio again, louder than before. The nearly endless party in Purgatory surged on again with renewed energy. Not that any of them had really understood the full impact of Julius' betrayal. None of them had been a member of the original crew. No one except Gat… the only one who could really know what I was feeling at the moment. Still, the gang's positive reaction to the news assured me of their loyalty, so I let them have their fun.

Johnny wove through the whooping, gyrating masses below and walked up the stairs to meet me. "Seriously?" he asked above the music, shouting to be heard. "Julius is really dead?"

I nodded.

"Holy shit."

"What, you didn't think I could take him?"

"No, I just thought… it would be harder, I guess."

I shrugged. "He went out like a bitch."

Johnny nodded. "Well… he wasn't the man he used to be."

"No," I agreed wholeheartedly. "No, he wasn't."

"You gonna join the party or what?"

"In a minute. I have another announcement to make."

"You got it." Johnny reached around and grabbed his shotgun, firing a round toward the ceiling. The nearest people let out barks of alarm and ducked, some even dove for cover. Shaundi abruptly snapped off the radio again, and then I had everyone's full attention for the second time that night.

"You all know my rules," I began, speaking loudly to make sure even those in the back could hear. "No one fucks with me, and no one fucks with the Saints!"

A round of whoops and cheers followed that statement and I nodded to them appreciatively, then continued. "When I first gathered you all together, the Saints were the laughing stock of the city. Now, we own Stilwater." Another vociferous round of cheers broke out. I lifted my hands to quiet them. "Everyone who dared disrespect us got put down. Anyone who stood in our way was crushed. The traitorous back-stabber Julius Little got what was comin' to him –"

More cheers erupted, along with an enthusiastic 'hell yeah' from Johnny, but I simply kept talking, and everyone quickly fell silent again.

"But… our job ain't over yet. There's still two muthafuckas out there who betrayed us: Troy Bradshaw and Dex. I want them fucking dead."

Thunderous cheers filled the room; rowdy chants of 'Long live the Saints' accompanied rifles raised high. They were as excited to end this once and for all as I was. I gave them another satisfied nod. "So go out and find those bastards. Bring them here. We'll show them some good ol' fashioned Saints hospitality."

There was a rush of bodies as nearly everyone in the club streamed past me; eager to start on the hunt and be the one I'd highly reward for bringing me Troy or Dex first. When they were gone, Purgatory echoed with ghostly silence, and only myself, Gat, Shaundi, and Pierce were left standing amid a mess of discarded cups and beer bottles.

Johnny gave a grunt. "You sure know how to motivate people."

I smiled, heading toward the bar for a drink. "Yeah."

THE END.

(A/N: I will be continuing this once Saints Row 3 is released, of course. Also I have a few single chapter stories in mind dealing with what I think might happen to Dex and Troy, as well as another random one, so look for those sometime in the future. I know a few of you wanted to see the Boss hook up with Shaundi, or at least see the scene where she was kidnapped by Veteran Child. I did not have them hook up in this fic because the Boss is still angry with her for not going to burn down the Samedi farm with him, heh. (He was insulted that she'd rather hang with her ex at the frat party than go cause mayhem with him...) I might eventually write the Veteran Child scene though since I know more than one of you wants to see it (and he did have some feelings in that one, loathe as he is to admit it). Bear with me, I have a lot of other stuff to write, but I'll definitely keep it in mind! Thank you everyone for all of your awesome reviews, comments, feedback, and encouragement! It was great fun to write this fic and I enjoyed seeing what other SR fans thought of it! Thanks for reading!)