Vegas felt the ground shake, that evening.

Immediately, he knew what was happening. He'd hidden his brother away, sent Ken to get Chay, and he'd exposed Tawan. But he hadn't thought to keep his father from reacting to his capture. Because his father didn't care about him enough to attack the main family for his well being.

At least, that was what he thought until he heard the attack begin.

Vegas' heart pounded in his chest as he checked the bulletproof vest beneath his shirt. He knew it was there. He wasn't going to take the chance of dying again. Because this was all happening again. Even after Vegas had tried to change everything.

Coming into the main family's mansion, he'd known shit would go down. He'd thought they'd fire upon him on sight. But he'd made it through that and now? Now, his father was attacking. Which meant that someone was going to fire on Vegas, one way or another.

He just had to hope they didn't go for his head, this time. It would be so funny if he died because he hadn't wanted to include his father. If he died because he took everything else into account, but his father's affection for him.

What was worse was that this time around, Vegas didn't even get to have a moment with Pete. He didn't know Pete: the one who was untouched by Vegas' violence, the one who was still his own person, the one who didn't fall to his knees, begging for things that Vegas knew Pete didn't want.

Maybe he should have gone ahead with his previous plan, to an extent. Gotten himself far enough that he, at least, got Pete in his clutches. At least then, he'd have known some form... any form of affection from Pete. Anything. Knowing that death was certain, Vegas hated the new choice he'd made. Because, after everything, he was still going to die.

"What was that?" Tawan asked, standing as soon as Vegas stood.

The door to the building screeched open and Vegas hid in a corner, knowing it was futile. He was wearing a white t-shirt. Anyone who entered this place would see him, regardless. Anyone who came here was coming because they knew Vegas was here. He was going to die.

"Oh god," Tawan said, trying to hide as well. Unfortunately for him, he was on the side of the cell that could be seen from up the stairs, from the door.

"Vegas?" his father called.

"Papa?" Vegas called back.

He couldn't believe it as he heard footsteps running down the stairs. This was so much better than a main family guard finding him. But at the same time, if he left with his father, how would that look to Pete? He'd come to bury the hatchet, but if he ran away, he'd be going into hiding. Again. And this time, he wouldn't have Pete.

Fuck.

"You shouldn't be here, Papa" he said, not sure if he was grateful or annoyed.

Not answering, Papa fired on the locks as they disengaged. He tossed Tawan keys to his cuffs as he came to Vegas to help uncuff Vegas from the cell.

As soon as he was free, he moved towards his father.

"Papa, they'll be looking-"

Papa slapped him across the face.

"What the fuck did you tell them?"

Well right, Vegas thought. This felt more familiar.

"What did you say?" Papa asked, grabbing Vegas by the collar of his shirt.

"Khun-Kun let's go," Tawan said behind Vegas' father. "We shouldn't do this here."

Papa shrugged Tawan off as he held onto Vegas.

"I found Ken. What were you planning?"

"I am trying to save us."

Papa slapped him again, this time, sending Vegas to the floor. As he shook his head, Vegas saw Tawan's feet run past, behind Papa. Papa didn't react to Tawan, and Vegas didn't look up. But he could tell that Tawan had gone. Left the two of them to this. Vegas couldn't even blame him.

If he had a choice, he too, wouldn't remain either.

Especially since Vegas knew he and Papa were about to die anyway.

"You useless fucking idiot."

"Papa-"

"Is this what you were planning all along? To betray me?"

"I would never betray you, Papa."

"Tell the truth," Papa hissed, raising his hand again.

A gunshot sounded in the enclosed space, ringing into Vegas' ears as he covered them. The bullet hit the ground between Papa and Vegas, breaking and pushing concrete up into the air as Papa jumped away from Vegas.

When he looked up, Pete was there, coming down the stairs, his gun pointed at Papa. He came to Vegas, keeping Vegas behind him, blocking Vegas from his father. Protecting Vegas. Because Pete was nothing if not consistent.

"Are you okay?" Pete asked, as the echo of another Pete asked Vegas the same question.

Vegas' ears were ringing from the slaps and the gunshot, but other than that, Vegas was fine.

"The main family will never accept you, Vegas," his father said. "No matter what you tell them."

"I'm taking you to Khun-Kinn."

"I'm not going anywhere with you. You're going to have to kill me."

"No," Vegas said, standing up to pull Pete back. "He doesn't mean that. Tell him you don't mean that, Papa."

Kun spat on the floor.

When Vegas tried to move between them, Pete shoved him back, still keeping Vegas from going to his father, but Vegas couldn't rest. Not when Pete was pointing the gun at his father.

"If you kill him, the other clan heads will want you dead, Pete."

Pete's resolve wavered as he clenched his gun tighter. Papa must have wreaked havoc up there. Pete's white shirt was drenched in blood and there was a cut on his face. The thought that Pete must have fought people, risked his life to get to Vegas both warmed and terrified Vegas' heart just a little.

However, if Pete killed Papa now, Korn would be able to make the argument that it happened during a battle. But there were those who would need a scapegoat. Papa's people would want someone they could point a finger at and punish. Vegas would rather die than let Pete be used that way.

Vegas shifted, pushing Pete away as he stood between them.

"I haven't lied to you since I got here, Pete."

"Get out of my way," Pete said, lowering his gun to the floor.

"This is all just a misunderstanding."

"He attacked the main family."

"Pete-"

"I can't just let him go."

"I'm not asking you to let him go."

Pete didn't answer, instead, his eyes grew wide in a manner that was very familiar. Vegas had vivid flashbacks to the night he died. He remembered feeling loved and wanted when he turned around. Mere seconds before Pete's eyes widened at the sound and sight of bullets tearing into Vegas' flesh.

That was the exact same expression Pete was wearing, as his gaze shifted to look behind Vegas.

Vegas hadn't seen it. He hadn't known what he was doing. But by blocking Pete, he'd given his father a chance to pull out his gun. For a tiny second, for the smallest of moments, Vegas rejoiced at the fact that he'd worn a bulletproof vest. This time, if his father shot him, Vegas would survive it. He'd get to see Pete again. He'd be vindicated that he wasn't working with his father. Plus, he'd have the added bonus of knowing that Pete had cared enough to protect Vegas.

Unfortunately, Pete shoved Vegas out of the way as everything moved so slow and so fast at the same time. Because Vegas saw it coming. In a way, he knew what was about to happen before it could happen, but it still shocked him too much for him to react.

Because as soon as Vegas was out of the way, Papa fired two, clear shots into Pete's torso.

***

Darkness.

***

White noise.

***

Bright lights.

***

Vegas didn't know what was happening until Kinn and Porsche were pulling him off his father's unmoving body. But he couldn't stop. He shoved them away, choosing to return to what his body wanted to do. Which was to pummel his father till he died from Vegas' own hands. Because, what the fuck? How could he do this to Vegas? He would take anything his father did but this.

"Vegas, stop," Kinn called, dragging him away.

Unable to get to his father, Vegas crawled to Pete's body, lying on top of it as he screamed. This could not be happening. He hadn't been given a second chance to come back to this. What the fuck? Vegas had a bulletproof vest. He'd been ready, this time. He should have been shot instead. Why? Why did this have to happen?

He cussed everything, everyone alive. He cussed his father and whatever had brought him back.

Picking Pete's gun, he pointed it at Kinn when Kinn tried to come closer.

"Stay away," he commanded, eyes blurred with tears.

"Let's take him to the hospital."

"Don't touch him."

"He's still breathing, Vegas."

Scared, afraid to check, Vegas refused to look down. Because Kinn could be lying. He could be wrong. He could be a fool who'd gotten Vegas' hopes only for Vegas to see Pete dead.

"Look," Kinn urged him.

Crying, daring to spare Pete another look, Vegas lowered his eyes. To his heart's unending, shocking glee, Vegas saw that even though it was slow and minimal, Pete's chest was moving.

Up and down. Breathing. Still alive.