Nothing But Each Other (book 2. of Nothing But Trouble)

23) Gunshots

"Hey, you shanks need to wake up,"Someone urged, nudging us. Rubbing my eyes, I saw Minho staring us down with a triumphant grin.

"What's your deal?"I asked, quickly pulling my scarf up.

"It's just interesting to see two 'friends' cuddling in their sleep,"He said, clearly getting the wrong idea.

"This is a daily thing. It pretty much always has been,"Aris joined in, sitting beside me. "Besides, there's a reason we call you Minnie's boy."

"You call me what?"

"Minnie's boy,"I repeated, grabbing my jacket and putting it on, keeping my journals in the inside pocket. With Aris putting on his, we ignored Minho's dumbfounded look as we got ready for today.

Forcing my scarf around me a little tighter, I kept desperately trying to tie it as my knotted hair got in the way. Forcing it out of my face, I just barely managed to wrap my fingers around the fabric before it almost fell.

"Here. I've got it,"Aris offered, standing behind me. Untying it for just a moment, he kept it over my face as he brushed out some of my hair with his fingers. Mumbling something to himself, he took the scarf and tied it over my hair two times.

"Thanks,"I mumbled.

"Yeah. Anytime,"He whispered, still so close to me. Feeling his still cold fingers just barely touching my neck, something inside me felt sort of lost and found. Like I didn't know anything at all while knowing everything. Like I felt the hell this was but more at peace than I had ever been. Like I still had that urge to push everyone away while needing them to be closer, needing Aris to be closer. Closer than he is right now.

"Am I interrupting something?"Newt asked, breaking the bubble we made.

"No,"We quickly said at the same time, as I turned around, both of us avoiding eye contact.

"Then, let's get going,"He shrugged, waving us forward. Doing that, while still not looking at each other he grabbed my hand. Feeling my face heat up more than just a few seconds ago, we kept moving, knowing that there was no other choice if we wanted to live.

ᕙᕗᕙᕗᕙᕗᕙᕗᕙᕗᕙᕗᕙᕗ

Throughout the day we had switched off on carrying Winston on a bunch of scrap wood that had been pieced together. With it being Aris's and I turn, we tried to keep the same pace. Still, the Skater in me came out a few times, almost making me pull ahead of him. So, I was sort of glad when we had to help him up the hill. It was an obvious two person job.

With me on his right and Aris on his left, we kept our arms around his shoulders as he leaned against his. I was pretty sure that he was right handed by the way he seemed to be closer to me. Obviously, there was nothing to complain about there though. I was lucky to be the one being leaned on instead of leaning.

After what seemed to be days but was probably about an hour (which is still insane) we did it. Despite the sand blinding us and the sun trying to set us on fire through our skin, we were on top of the dune, staring at the ruins of the city.

It wasn't what I imagined, what I think that that any of us imagined. With concrete buildings fallen to the ground, abandoned cars that had been raided and torn apart, and random pieces of trash, including glass with some kind of disturbing red liquid that I refused to acknowledge could be blood, it truly was a different kind of intense.

Still, maybe we could get used to it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

As we stood there, stuck between admiring it while being horrified, Winston suddenly dropped from our shoulders, falling to the ground. Leaning down, as I apologized and attempted to help him up he shook his head no. Doing as he said, we all waited for whatever surreal thing came next.

"It's spreading,"He panted. Before anyone could ask what he meant he pulled up his shirt, revealing his bandaged abdomen with veins growing out of it. In this sickening shade of purple and black, it truly was awful.

"Please? Please?"He begged.

Standing still, we all knew what he was asking for.

Death. He was asking for death.

I stood there and argued with the ethics of this in my head. Then, I remembered that none of those mattered out here.

I also have the faint idea of knowing death is better than pain.

Being the one with the most reliable weapon, I pulled my gun out of my bag, my hands shaking as they touched it. Leaning down, I managed to place it in his hands, pushing everything back as I did.

Because this was the only option now. It was cruel. It was cold. It was callous.

Letting him live like this though, is unfair, maybe even selfish. To make someone live when they have no chance is wrong.

"Thank you, Y/N. Thank you,"He said, his breathing only getting more ragged. Barely managing a nod, I looked at the way his chest was rising and falling too quickly, the way he could barely even keep his eyes open, the way he looked like he was losing himself, and told myself that this was the right decision.

Walking away, I let everyone say their goodbyes, being left in complete silence as I held back tears. For what?

Maybe for the way he was dying too young.

Maybe at the fear that we would all end up like him.

Maybe at the fact that someone who didn't deserve to die would while people not worthy of being called human would get to live.

Maybe because I handed him the gun.

Or all of them.

Yeah.

All of them.

With everyone else walking behind me, I stared straight ahead as everything that I knew became twisted.

After hardly two seconds more the gunshot rang through the air. Freezing, we all stood there, listening to it echo into the abyss.

Slowly turning to face nothing, I knew that there was a spot missing.

Winston's spot was gone, being replaced by emptiness. It belonged to death now. It belonged to a bullet.