James's P.O.V.
I rubbed my face in frustration. I had woken up way too early to get some studying in, and I've been staring at math equations for about 7 hours straight. I checked the time. 6:31 p.m. Danny should've gotten home by now.
"Dad, did you call Danny yet?" I asked. He looked up from the book he was reading. "No. Don't worry too much, I'm sure he's alright." Dad smiled reassuringly. I shook my head. I had a feeling something was wrong. "I'm just gonna call. To check." I said. Dad gave me a knowing smile.
I pulled out my phone and dialled his number. He didn't answer the phone. I started panicking. So I called again. "Dad, he isn't picking up." I said anxiously. Dad frowned. It wasn't like Danny to not pick up his phone.
On the third try, he finally answered. "Danny? Why didn't you answer your phone? And you're thirty minutes late! What-"
"Th-this is Will." Will breathed. I frowned in confusion. I didn't know they were friends again. "Will, where's Danny?" I asked. "H-He..." Will sobbed. He was panicking. A lot. Which made me panic even more. "Where is he? Is he hurt? What happened? Will, please tell me." I rushed out.
"He... my dad... D-Danny. Oh, god... Danny..."
"Will, please calm down. Tell me what happened."
"Dad... my d-dad has a g-gun."
My heart stopped beating. Literally. I thought I was going to pass out. I couldn't hear or feel anything. I couldn't breathe. "James?!" My dad shook my shoulder repeatedly. I gasped. "Danny, he's in danger... gun..." I whispered.
"Was he shot?!" My dad yelled and I flinched. "Sorry." He muttered. He took the phone from my shaking, weak hand. "Will, please tell me. Is he injured?" My dad tried to stay calm but I could hear the shake in his voice.
"N-no." Will answered, and I let out a sigh of relief. He's okay. For now. My dad rushed to the front door. "Dad, wait for me!" I got up and ran to his side but he shook his head. "No. I can't put you in danger too. Stay here, with Sam. I mean it, James. Don't you dare follow me."
I opened my mouth to argue but he was already out the door. I paced around in circles. I heard my dad start the car, and I couldn't do anything to help. I had to go. I had to. It was stupid of me but I failed him last time. I couldn't protect him, but now I had to.
I grabbed my keys just as Sam came downstairs. "What's going on?" He asked. "Nothing." I smiled tensely. He frowned and rubbed his hair. "I don't believe that." He muttered. "Really, everything is splendid."
"Where's dad?" He questioned. "He is working, perhaps. You bear witness to his workaholism." I said lightheartedly. Sam raised his eyebrow at me. "What are you hiding from me?" He asked suspiciously. "Nothing. Everything is quite alright." I said. He narrowed his eyes at me. "Then why are you lying?" He asked.
"I-I most certainly am not! Why ever would you believe so?" I said. "Because you are talking like a 19th century gentleman, dear brother. As you do when you are lying. The inferior version of Charles Boyle." Sam mocked me. I huffed. It was something that started as a joke, but then because a horrible habit.
""So tell me. What the fuck's going on?" Sam asked. "Language." I mumbled absentmindedly, like a reflex. Sam rolled his eyes then looked at me expectantly. "There was a... slight issue with Danny. Dad's gone to sort it out. And I was going to help." I admitted.
"What kind of issue?" Sam frowned. "Nothing for you to worry about." I said. "Don't bullshit me, James. Tell me what's going on? You obviously seem distressed." He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "As I said, it's nothing. I have to go-"
"Will you stop treating me like an annoying little child? Whatever it is, I can take it. He's my brother, too. You always forget that. You all do." Sam interrupted frustratedly. "Sammy, you know that isn't true. It's just... I can't tell you. Nor Freddie, for that matter." I told him.
"Please, James. I need to know. Or else I'll follow you." He threatened. More like stated, but it sounded like a threat. "Fuck... fine. Danny's in danger. He's with Will and his dad has a gun." I confessed. My heartbeat quickened at the reminder that Danny was in serious danger.
I opened the door to the garage, and Sam followed me. "What the fuck? What the fuck?! What the actual fuck?!" He kept shouting as he walked. "Sam, stay here." I warned him. "Fuck no!" He yelled. I didn't think it was the right time to comment on his language.
"Sammy, please. I can't risk your safety. Danny's life being in danger is bad enough. Just stay here, I can FaceTime you through everything so you're assured when we save Danny. Okay?" I spoke gently. Sam sighed and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Okay." He whispered. He hugged his arms and stepped back as I entered my car and drove out of the garage.
I called his phone and he replied after the first ring. I placed my phone in the cup holder and I drove as fast as was legally possible. I tried to soothe Sam's anxiety. He didn't say anything, but I could tell he was worried sick.
"James I can't breathe." I heard Sam whisper through the phone. Even in the poor camera quality, I could tell he wasn't feeling well. "Alright. Uh, first drink some water, then sit down. Breathe in for 5, hold for 5, and exhale for 5 seconds. Everything's gonna be okay."
I spoke calmly as I took a U-turn, even though I was almost going to pass out. I checked my phone for the location. "Sammy, you okay?" I asked. "Y-yeah." Sam said. I rubbed my chest uncomfortably. "Are you okay?" Sam asked me. I nodded my head, not trusting my words.
I was getting closer to the Millers' house, so I knew that dad was probably already there. I wasn't much of a religious person, but you better believe I prayed to god that Danny, dad, and Will were all okay.
•••
Danny's P.O.V.
I felt sick. I was pretty sure I would puke out my guts if it wasn't for the fact that I couldn't move. Will was sobbing. He tried pulling his dad's hands away, but he got an elbow to the eye. I knew I was going to die. On several occasions in my life, I've thought I was going to die. I'm able to compile a list. So, in chronological order:
1. When I was getting beaten to the brink of death (several times)
2. When I was also getting beaten to the brink of death, but this time it was someone else who was doing the beating. (several times)
3. When I was also getting beaten to the brink of death, but this time it was several people doing the beating. (several times)
4. When I was being starved to the brink of death. (several times)
5. When I found Mimi's body.
6. When I had my second panic attack.
7. When I had all the other panic attacks (I lost count of how many they are)
But never in my life did I actually know I was going to die. There was no denying it. I was quite literally staring right into a gun. An actual gun. I wasn't shaking, I wasn't crying. I just stared blankly at the piece of metal. I then stared into the eyes of Mr. Miller. Those murderous eyes.
I didn't know what to do. All my life, or the 10 years I remember of it, I've wanted death. Welcomed it with open arms. When I was suffering, death sounded like a dream. The irony is not lost on me. Because now that I'm finally piecing my shitty life back together, now that I have an amazing family and great friends, I'm getting what I wished for.
There's so much I want to say. So much that I won't ever have the chance to. I don't know why I'm so calm. I don't know why time stood still. I stared into my soon-to-be killer's eyes. They were empty. But he didn't pull the trigger.
Maybe it was psychological torment, maybe be was just nervous, or maybe he was waiting for something. But he just held the gun right in front of me. He didn't say anything, didn't move a muscle.
I was never actually scared of death. It was always something inevitable. Maybe desirable. But when I stared down that gun, all I could think about was my family, Will, and Lily. That's all. I realised that I was only thinking about my loved ones. Because I loved these people. With everything in me. I loved them. And I never got to say it.
But as I readied myself for the suddenness of death, I heard the door bang open. Someone was here. For me, possibly. Hopefully. I had a weird fluttery feeling in chest, and I realised that it was the first time I actually wanted to live and to fight for my life. As soon as Will's dad got distracted, I ran.
I ran as fast as I could and I crashed into someone's chest. The cologne that I've grown accustomed to filled my nostrils and I breathed it in, relieved. I started choking up and I felt tears sting my eyes. The figure pushed me away gently, and I wobbled in my spot before falling to my knees. I sobbed into my hands. I don't know why I was crying so much. I didn't know what was going on. I couldn't hear anything past the ringing in my ears. I couldn't see anything past the tears clouding my vision.
The cologne wafted through the air again as I felt strong arms surround me. If the person said anything, I didn't hear it. I wrapped my arms tightly around him. Cried into his shoulder. He hugged back. I couldn't let go. I was crushing him but I couldn't let go.
"Dad." I sobbed as I clutched onto him like a little child. "Dad." I breathed again. "I'm here." He whispered, as we sat on the ground, my shaking, crying form in his arms. He was here. He was actually here.
"Dad." I said again. That word was unfamiliar on my lips, but I liked how it made me feel. Like I had someone to count on, a family. Like I wasn't alone. Like I was loved.