Disclaimer: I do not own The Black Donnellys

Author's Note: Forgive the lateness. It took a while to get something i could work with, but i should have part two up momentarily.

P.S. I am in dire need of a Beta Reader! If anybody is a beta reader, or wants to refer a beta reader to me, I would greatly appreciate it. Helps to churn out the stories a little quicker.

The Break

"And there he lay, battered and beaten, asking the world for forgiveness..."

"Tommy, I know you're supposed to be the smart one and everything…" Jimmy muttered, as began methodically placing a clip in the .45 caliber he kept under the bar, "But that has to be the dumbest thing you could've done. If you wanted Dokey to kill us, you should've at least let me know so I could've got my hits in too."

Tommy Donnelly sat at the bar of the Firecracker with his face buried in his hands, blatantly ignoring the criticism his older brother hurled at him. The beer he had poured himself upon walking inside lay untouched, along with the 9mm he had recently used to pistol whip the current "head" of the Irish mob. Slowly, he let his face fall from his hands as a defeated sigh escaped his lips. His palms caught his forehead, and he stared blankly at the water-stained wood of the bar counter.

"Jimmy is right, Tommy," Kevin's voice sounded from somewhere behind him. "Those were all neighborhood people. They wouldn't have snitched on us cause they hate Dokey almost as much as we do. It really wasn't one of your brightest decisions."

Whether Kevin's words had hit a nerve or not was up for debate, but at that specific moment, something profound happened inside Tommy Donnelly. For the briefest of instances, every muscle in Tommy's body constricted as all the pressure he had been feeling since he murdered Huey and Sal became too much to bear. To many things were happening too quickly and he couldn't seem to get a grip on the world around him. It hit with such intensity that he literally felt the bar stool tilt underneath him.

His jaw clenched and his lips curled inward into a painful grimace. His eyes screwed themselves shut so tightly that it caused tears to form at their corners. His hand curled into a death grip so forceful that, had he been holding the beer mug, it surely would have shattered in his hands. It was at that moment, that the careful control Tommy Donnelly had been maintaining on all of his conflicting feelings finally broke through his stony exterior. Fear and anxiety coated his features, as regret and hopelessness wrenched at his heart. He felt as his lungs constricted, and the air in the room became to thick to draw into his chest. The inability to take in air caused his body to seize up further and jerk forward. In all honesty, it looked as if Tommy had suddenly been the victim of a mild seizure, and had his brothers been paying any attention, they probably would have agreed.

However, Jimmy had wandered to the window where Sean and Joey Ice Cream had stationed themselves, and was currently engaged in a heated debate as to what kind of car Dokey drove, whether or not he had hired snipers to kill them from the rooftops, and if he had, whether or not it was a good idea to be standing so close to the window. Kevin, on the other hand, had busied himself with loading and reloading every piece of artillery in the bar, which consisted of a 9mm beretta, a glock 36, two .45 calibers, and a vast array of cutlery items Jimmy had stolen from the mall.

Suddenly, almost is quickly as it came, the emotional spasm left him. The muscles in Tommy's face relaxed, and his breathing returned to normal, almost as if it never happened at all. The event being oblivious to everyone but him.

"Hey, Tommy! Dokey doesn't own any of those…those…weapons of mass destruction right?" Jimmy yelled from across the bar.

Tommy didn't even blink.

When a response did not follow his question, Jimmy waved his hand dismissively in Tommy's general direction and turned back to Joey and Sean.

Tommy had not even heard his brother. In fact, Tommy wasn't even in the bar. Though he physically sat at the bar stool, drink and semi-automatic pistol before him, Tommy Donnelly was lost in the recesses of his mind. Once again, he watched himself pistol whip Dokey and drag him by the collar across the beer soaked ground of the bar. Once more, he watched as his face became taut with rage as anger radiated throughout his body while he mercilessly began to beat Dokey, with every intention of killing him. Once more, he watched himself abrupty stop mid kick as he heard the words of Mr. Riley resonate in his head.

"Don't you give me that crap, all you Donnelly's are the same. You're just like your damn father!"