"You're angry because you know that, if you'd followed my plan, then Aisha would still be alive!"
The barrel of Johnny's pistol against his forehead was expected. Pierce didn't flinch, this wasn't exactly the first time he'd been on the receiving end of a gunshot. Though it may be the last.
"Shut. The fuck. Up."
A silence. Johnny exhaled hard through his nose. Pierce tilted his head back and grabbed Johnny's wrist, in one swift movement, pinning the gun harder against his own head.
And maybe, for a moment, he looked into Johnny's deadly gaze and wondered who would scrape his brains off the Purgatory dance floor. He hoped it was Shaundi.
"Do it, Gat . C'mon , I thought you liked the 'guns blazing' approach. Thought you loved the bloodshed. Fucking do it!"
"Johnny, don't you dare! Pierce stop provokin' him. That's a fuckin' order." But despite the confidence in his voice the Boss had his palms up in a peaceful gesture, eyes darting about as if he himself wasn't shaken by Aisha's death. Like he didn't keep a picture of Carlos in his fucking wallet.
They were crumbling, falling apart like the ash on the end of a cigarette. And, like every other thing set out to destroy their lives, Gat was in the center of it.
Johnny. Fucking. Gat.
They both ignored the Boss, a weird little agreement. Disrespect like that wasn't tolerated. This was business. The only reason Johnny hadn't fired yet was because, through all his bullshit , Pierce hadn't spoken a single lie. Johnny's hand twitched on the trigger.
"When she screamed for you did you feel anything at all?"
Harsh, even for Pierce, but he couldn't find it in himself to regret it, not when Johnny's face looked so stricken.
Pierce laughed. Insane, maybe, but right . He'd always been right. There's no time for grief in this world, only honesty, truth, do or die. Johnny deserved to blame himself because he was responsible. And no one, not even Boss or Shaundi or Shogo or Aishas fucking ghost could deny that truth.
Pierce had no time for pity. Didn't care for it, either.
Shaundi walked in, fake composure evident in her gait as she gestured to Pierce with an outstretched hand. "C'mon, man," softly, trying to distract and defuse, "come smoke with me, and we'll listen to those vinyls you like."
Pierce looked into Johnny's eyes, one more time, before letting go of his wrist and, perhaps foolishly, turning his back on that goddamn gun.
Johnny didn't shoot.
End