Dylans POV
As soon as that scream found its way out of my mouth, a sharp object had wedged itself in the left side of my lower back. My breath was hitched, and I fell to the floor. I could feel the object being ripped out of my skin, and the warm feeling of blood gushing out of my side was not a good thing. I was grabbed by my wrist ties into the building again.
Every exhale hurt, but every inhale felt like I was being stabbed by thousands of needles at the source of the pain. I coughed, yelping at the feeling of agony and blood pouring out quicker every cough. Wayne threw my arms down, landing with a thud. He dropped the shrade and smirked. I couldn't seem to move; it was as if I were paralyzed from the neck down. I held my breath, trying to stop the pain of breathing.
I heard his heavy footsteps move to my left, and I gulped. The swallow hurting my gash. A blunt thing came in harsh contact with the wound, and I screamed. My head was beginning to spin, and I was now crying my eyes out. Without lifting my head, I glanced down to see my bloodstained shirt with tears and rips, along with a boot that had blood all over the front end. My breathing was getting slower, and I choked for air. I felt blood come up in a cough, and I spit it out, feeling the warm fluid drop down my cheeks and neck onto the floor.
Luke came into my mind, and with hitched breath, I smiled. The sight was blurring, but I kept that thought in my head as I was kicked once more.
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Lukes POV
We heard police sirens beep in the distance, and I began kicking doors, looking frantically for the boy I loved. He had to be alive, he had to be.
"We need to wait for backup," Officer Morgan said, his voice stern.
"The fuck we do!" I shouted, running out of that room and slamming into the door across from it in the dark hallway. My heart stopped. There was a breeze from the opened balcony door, and I saw zipties and spots of blood at the entrance. Morgan grabbed me by the shoulders, staying behind me. I tried fighting him off, but even he was too strong for me.
"Dylan!" I shouted in a cracked voice, tears beginning to form. There was no answer, and I couldn't feel my heart beat in my chest.
"Get the fuck off me!" I shouted at the cop, shrugging harshly to get out of his grip. Many sets of footsteps and metal clanging was heard from below, meaning the cops and paramedics were almost here. I elbowed Morgan in the chest, and ran into the building.
"Kid, wait -" he shouted, before I couldn't hear him. There was a loud ringing in my ears, and I couldn't even muster out a scream as I saw the sight in front of me. I weakly walked to the boy lying on the floor, with his eyes shut and blood surrounding him. I fell to my knees next to him and put my hand in his tussled, bloody hair.
"Dy- Dylan?" I squeaked out, my gaze not being able to look away from the still boy. He didn't answer, and I couldn't breathe.
"Dylan! Dylan, wake up. You need to be okay. Dylan, I - I love you. You can't be dead, please come back, " I choked out. Morgan's heavy footsteps drawled closer to me. I didn't bother wiping my tears away, rather, I picked up Dylan's limp body and held his head carefully in the crook of my arm. Morgan kneeled down, and put one hand on my shoulder. I began rocking back and forth, tears falling onto Dylan's ripped clothing. People came rushing through the door, and the paramedics ran over to where I was positioned.
I didn't want them to take him, I needed to hold him. I needed to tell him I love him. Three members of the unit that showed grabbed me by the arms, whilst the medics held onto Dylan to ensure he wouldn't fall onto the ground. I tried fighting the men, my breath just becoming that of hyperventilation. My head hurt from crying, but I finally held my breath, wiping my face on my shoulder. One paramedic with short spiked brown hair put two fingers on Dylan's wrist, before looking at the other and shaking his head.
I looked down at my shoes, noticing the traces of Dylan's blood on my clothing. It was my fault.
"This is all my fault," I cried out, letting the tears fall onto the cold ground. Morgan gave the signal for the men to let go of me and I couldn't do anything other than stand still.
"Do not blame this on yourself. This was not your fault. You had no idea that -" Morgan started.
"But I did! I knew Wayne was in town, I told Dylan I would protect him. I wasn't there for him and, and, and," I looked at his lifeless body, only to cry more.
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The officer who searched the buildings with me basically forced me to ride with him. He said it was against protocol, but he let me sit in the front seat. I had a red blanket wrapped around my body, thanks to the medics. I couldn't stop crying as we rode back to the station.
When we got there, I opened the passenger door quickly and stood up. My vision blacked from standing too fast, but I walked to the front door, blanket almost off of my shoulders. Dylan's parents were waiting, worriedly, in the waiting room of the horrid place. They saw me, and started crying. I looked down at my attire, drenched in the blood of the boy I love, and cried harder, finding my way to a seat and putting my head in my hands.
His mother let out a sniffle, and walked over to me, sitting in a vacant seat. She put her hand on my shoulder and bawled. His dad walked over and put his arm around his wife, sitting in another empty green chair.
"He- he really love... he really loved you," Dylan's mom choked out, her words cracking at the word loved.
I looked up at her with sad eyes. They had lost him, too. Bright headlights shone into the station through the door, followed by a car door slamming shut. A very terrified Brandon came running in, "There are police everywhere at the apartments. They said I-" he stopped talking when he saw me, covered in blood.
"Oh.. Oh, no... He isn't... he can't be... who...?" Brandon asked, fighting back tears. I stood up, looking Brandon in the eyes, "Wayne."
Another car door slammed, but I ignored it as a petite girls frame came into view.
"Wayne was the guy who almost fucking killed him all those times ago in his old city. Wayne is the one who found him again somehow, using you to get closer to Dylan. Wayne, he's gone. He disappeared, and Dylan, Dylan... didn't make it this time," I cried.
The short girl went up to Brandon and hugged him. I knew her as a threat in gym when Dylan hung out with her, but Dylan saw her as Jane. The girl who recently lost her mother to cancer, and had now lost a friend.
Morgan entered the waiting area from a room that had been locked, giving us condolences and asking me to follow him. I wrapped the blanket around my body and went with him into a white room with blue chairs and a desk. A recording device was sat on the desk, and he offered me a seat. I nodded at him and sat, tears streaming down my face.
"I can't go against protocol in the fact that you need to be interviewed. I know you didn't do it, but you seem to know a lot about this Wayne character. I won't record yet, though," he told me.
"I know a lot about his personality, you'd have to ask Brandon about his appearance because I've never actually seen that dickwad," I growled.
"I talked it over with the sheriff, and he told me he wanted me to tell you he is offering a year-long therapy opportunity. You don't have to go for the full year, you would be going for two days, every week, for as long as you deem necessary, and after that -"
"No."
"Son, you just saw a dead body, that has to be very traumatic."
"A dead body?! You know his fucking name. Sure, he's fucking dead, but you could at least call him by his goddamned name!"
He shifted in his seat, "You saw, Dylan, in a state you probably never thought you would. That's hard on anyone. Therapy would be beneficial to you, and Dylan would probably want you to."
"You don't know a goddamn thing about Dylan," I cried, as he pushed a button on the recording device, "he is... was... the sweetest fucking thing in the entire world. He was innocent, and was treated like shit by Wayne for years because Wayne tricked him."
"What do you mean?"
"Wayne dated Dylan for like, less than a week, and cheated on him with another guy, in front of Dylan! Then, he and his fricken gang of douche's beat him up every day of his life because Wayne told them he was gay. His dad got a job transfer and they moved here, but Wayne found him! How can someone be so cruel to someone because of the fucking gender they like?! I'm not even gay, but Dylan... Dylan was an exception. He made me realize that love doesn't care what you have in your pants, so why the fuck couldn't Wayne?! Dylan deserved the best in the world. He was so innocent and kind-hearted, and it got him killed!" I slammed my fist on the table, sobbing into the crook of my arm where Dylan's emotionless face had lied not even an hour before.
He was dead, because I couldn't protect him, and I would never forgive myself.
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A/N
The end. I cried so hard writing this entire chapter... But it was my original plan, so I had to stick with it.
Kill me ;~; my heart has been ripped out.