Never Meets Forever [BoyXBoy]

.:22:.

A/N

Sorry for always forgetting to warn you guys earlier, but this is the second to last chapter of this book. I'm sorry if this update is quite short, but I assure you the next one will be filled with action. I hope you have liked this story!

Enjoy.

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"What do you mean 'Stump went missing'?" Angrily demanded Blurryface, using every ounce of his willpower to not push the man against the wall and threaten him with a knife.

"He's gone. Just like that. There are no traces of him. We can't fully determine whether it was murder or not because no body has been found," explained the officer desperately, cowering further towards the door from the intimidating man.

"How did this happen? Don't we have 24-hour police watch on his apartment?"

"No. We were short on people, so we only had Quinn and Johnson being watched, because they needed it most."

"And did either of them do anything suspicious?" The man inquired further.

"Not particularly. Four days ago Quinn stayed home. Johnson went over to Quinn's place and stayed the night, then left. Went off the radar for a while, but came back with shopping bags so it was quite obvious where he went. The next two days have been silent from both."

"And we don't know when exactly Patrick Stump went missing?"

"No..."

"Well that's just right fucking great, isn't it? So, we don't even know whether this was the killer or not!" The masked man was exasperated.

"Well, we did find this in his apartment..." The officer carefully reached into his briefcase and retrieved a large plastic jar. It was big and looked like it could hold up to three litres of liquid. At least that was Blurryface's estimate. And he was rarely wrong.

Carefully the man unscrewed the lid off the jar and angled it for the other to see. A clear liquid rested inside, but there was not much of it, implying that the rest had been used.

Under the mask, the man's face broke into a twisted grin. "Is that what I think it is?"

The officer nodded, "Hydrofluoric acid at its finest."

"Oh my god," Blurryface laughed almost hysterically, taking the jar from the man and swishing the liquid around. His mind immediately pieced it all together like it was the most obvious thing. "The guy fucking melted Stump's body!"

"That's what we suspect, but we can't be sure. It's the only lead we have so far though," the officer explained, now even more on edge. How could someone be laughing at another person being burned in acid?

Under all of this, Blurryface found the situation so ridiculous he could not help but laugh. How fucked up did you have to be to literally melt a body in hydrofluoric acid? It showed how truly desperate the killer was to get rid of evidence. However leaving that jar there was a major fuck up on his part, well unless Patrick was interested in chemistry. This was almost too easy.

"Now, officer, let's ask ourselves a simple question," Blurryface leaned fowards in his chair, resting his arms on his desk. "Where does one get their hands on hydrofluoric acid? Schools, science labs and...you guessed it! Hospitals. Which one of our main suspects works at a hospital?"

"Victor Johnson," the officer replied, finally understanding. "Should we arrest him already?"

"Of course not!" Blurryface exclaimed like the simple idea was horrendous. "We double - no, triple - the number of police watching over his house and have someone always follow him whenever he leaves. We watch his every move and, if we don't find anything, all we have to do is wait for Denis Stoff to wake up."

The officer gave a half-hearted smile, "Lying that he was dead, so that the killer doesn't come for him, was probably one of your best ideas, Detective. When he wakes up in presumably two days, he'll be able to tell us who it was!"

"Indeed," Blurryface smirked under the balaclava and leaned back in his leather seat. "Now, we just play the waiting game."

***

It was Saturday evening, also known as Kellin's sixth day of not talking to Vic after he went off and got rid of Patrick. He had no idea why, but the idea of being in Vic's presence almost disgusted him. He was mostly okay with his actions at first, but now Kellin was finally realising that their relationship was unhealthy. Vic depended too much on Kellin and Kellin was only his friend out of pity.

But that was not the biggest reason why Kellin was avoiding Vic. It was mostly the fact that, if he didn't, he would probably get shot.

Kellin might have been a bit slow sometimes, but he was not stupid. He easily pieced together what he found out in the bathroom that morning with what was happening to Vic. He obviously could not rely on that one discovery though. He shaved a bit of his leg hair, then checked it in a few days just to see more growing in its place.

He had no idea what to do. This was in no way good and he was stuck in an awful situation.

The only person left for Vic to kill was Alan. And then what? When he would not succeed, he would surely suspect Kellin! There were no other people around but him. What was he supposed to do now? He had nowhere to hide!

He could go back to live with his parents, but Vic could easily find their address. He had no money to move anywhere else. Hell, Kellin would happily leave the state. Even country!

The sound of his phone ringing made the man jump in surprise. He had been so lost in thought he completely disconnected from the world around him.

Without bothering to look at who was calling, Kellin answered and pressed the phone to his ear, "Hello?"

"Hey, Kells!" Greeted the voice of none other than Vic.

Kellin's throat clogged up. What was Vic going to say? 'When were you going to tell me you've been responsible all along?'. Or maybe just a blunt, 'I'm coming for you and I have a gun'. But, no. It was something which threw him off guard.

"You and Alan are quite close. Do you happen to know how he spends his Saturday evenings?"

"Yeah, he usually spends his weekends on the soccer field the team used to practice on, because he likes to..." Kellin's voice trailed off and his face turned a ghostly pale at the realisation of what he just said.

"Great, thanks!" And with that, Vic hung up.

Kellin fucked up so bad. Alan did not deserve this! Alan did not deserve to die for the sake of saving Kellin, who would die in the long run anyway. He was completely innocent and had nothing to do with this whole mess. Kellin could not just push him under the bus like this.

But Vic was coming for him. Vic would be at the soccer field, ready to kill, probably armed with multiple weapons. What was Kellin supposed to do?

Suddenly, an idea popped into his mind. It was awful. Absolutely horrifying. But it was the only way to save Alan and himself. Kellin has always considered himself to be quite adventurous, but he had never taken a risk this big before. Did he want to put his life on the line?

After a long few seconds, which felt like hours, he finally built up the courage and muttered, "Fuck it."

Kellin reached into his nightstand and stealthily picked up the heavy gun, before leaving his apartment and slamming the door behind him.