A Fuckton of Polygrumps

Red Light: Revenge

Synopsis: Plans are made and shit's gonna go down. This is the last chapter before the huge-ass finale so I thought I'd get this out before I posted the requested shorter fics. 

Dan didn't sleep that night. He felt a mixture of shock and relief that Brian was able to at all. If anyone was in danger, it was Brian. Sure, Dan would probably be tortured at the hands of Mark, but he mad him money. He wouldn't dare hurt him enough to make him incapable of making money. Brian, on the other hand, was fair game. He ran the risk of being killed in the process of protecting Dan or being tortured. Even with that in mind, he slept like the dead. He only woke up when his alarm went off at 7:30 AM. 

"So, what's the plan," he grunted, his voice gruff and tired. 

"The...plan?" Dan asked, sitting up and hugging his knees. 

"I hear Canada is relatively easy to get into these days as long as you have a passport. If you don't have one, you could always make it to New Mexico easily enough."

Dan nodded, his mind mulling over his options with careful consideration. Part of him, the more logical portion of his brain, wanted to run like Brian suggested. Still, the rest of him, the uncharacteristically angry part of his brain, wanted revenge or blood. He chewed on his bottom lip as he fell deeper into his thoughts. 

"Do you know anyone who's good with guns?"

"I...might? Why?"

"Promise me you'll be with me on this," Dan went on, holding Brian's shoulders. "I'm gonna do some crazy shit, okay?"

"...How crazy?"

"Like 'James Bond just ate three weed brownies and downed ten shots of tequila' crazy."

Brian rubbed his eyes as if to prepare himself for whatever craziness the day would hold. Dan grabbed his hands and pulled him towards the kitchen.

"Okay, I need you to cut my hair."

"Are you...sure that's a good idea?"

"My hair is a dead giveaway. Cut it."

Brian reluctantly searched different drawers in the kitchen until he found a large pair of scissors. He took a deep breath because, fuck, it was super hard to cut off one of his favorite things about this hooker who was seeking refuge in his apartment. With every snip, he and Dan both flinched. It felt like the end of something. The hair barely reached his ears. 

"Okay, what now," Brian asked, setting the scissors aside. 

"I need to kill some people...and I need you to be here with me when I do...I-I can't do it alone..."

"Running would be much safer and easier," Brian protested.

"I...he has one of my friends and I'm worried about him...Mark took him and he hasn't gone back to the hotel. I...Mark's a really scary guy who can hurt a lot of people."

"And a skinny Jewish kid from New Jersey with a cocaine addiction is going to bring down an empire created by a sociopathic crime lord. Okay."

"Brian, please," Dan pleaded, taking Brian's hands in his own. "I must sound so fucked-"

"We can agree on that."

"But, those guys were sent to kill me last night. You saw those weapons and you saw how that could've ended. I won't do this without you. I can't do this without you."

Brian felt defenseless as he stared into Dan's pathetic gaze. He was so desperate to fill some angry void within himself and oddly enough, Brian could relate. He finally caved. It was then that he realized he was deeply in love with someone he'd never seen at their best. It was enough to make him puke.