FicWad

This is all my fault. If I had listened to Bob, if I had called the police, if I had kept a closer watch on Jess. If I had done any of a million things differently, maybe we wouldn’t be here now.

But we are here and I have no fucking clue what to do about it.

Everything is moving in slow motion, stretching out into eternity, until I am certain we’ll never get off this bus. We’ll all die, of old age or gunshot wounds, before the morning comes.

Jess’s hand holds the gun at Mikey’s head, shaking violently. I know Jess has never handled a gun before. She’s always been very anti-gun use. Well, she used to be anyway. I’m not even sure where she got that pistol, did she have it with her the entire time we were on tour? Because of her lack of experience, her aim will most likely be awful. And add the nerves in on top of that, her hands are shaking so bad I doubt she could hit anything even if she was a pro with a gun. Still, the bus is a small space and she’s got all of us crammed in here, she’s bound to be able to hit someone.

Mikey’s eyes dart around the room, landing on mine. I have to do something, I know I do. He needs me. I take a small step forward.

“Don’t,” Jess growls. I stop. Out of the corner of my eye I see movement behind me. I turn my head ever so slightly. It’s Bob, inching towards the driver’s seat. He reaches behind him quietly and switches on the hazard lights. It’s a feeble attempt, there’s no one out there to see it. And even if there were, no one’s going to think much of it. But he’s done more than I have, that’s for sure. I turn back to Jess, praying that my glance didn’t tip her off.

It did.

In a movement more swift than I would have given her credit for, she swings the gun up and fires it towards where the four of us are huddled before pointing it back at Mikey’s head and squeezing her free hand tighter around his neck, which is starting to bruise.

I hear a low moan and a thud behind me and turn quickly to see Gerard on the ground. Blood begins to pool around his body and he’s not moving.

“Oh my god, Gerard,” Ray breathes, kneeling down next to him.

“Get up!” Ray freezes mid crouch. “Now!”

Ray straightens and looks past me towards Jess. I need to end this.

“What do you want, Jess?” I ask, stalling as I inch my way closer to her, an outline of a really bad plan forming in my head.

She laughs. “I don’t want anything.” She says, her voice eerily calm. She sounds like I’ve just offered to buy her a sundae.

“Then why are you doing this?”

She smiles. “Oh, you know why I’m doing this. I have nothing left to live for, so I’m going to make sure you don’t either, sweetie.”

I shiver at the sound of her voice, like an ice cube down my spine. Mikey’s eyes bore into me and I can tell he’s losing it. Mikey may be the sweetest in the group, but he’s not helpless. She hurt his brother, he’s going to make he pay, that’s the way he’s probably thinking right now.

I shake my head slightly, praying he’ll take my hint and not do anything stupid. He doesn’t.

Deftly his slams his elbow back into her ribs. Gasping and doubling over she releases her hold on his neck just enough for him to writhe free. The gun slips away from his temple and points out towards us again just as her finger closes around the trigger.

I feel metal slash through my right arm and look down to see that the bullet had just grazed through my upper arm. Blood begins to lazily wind its way out into the open air. With all the adrenaline pumping through my system, I hardly feel it.

I look up again to see Mikey staring wide eyed at my arm, which looks much worse than it actually is. “Shit,” he mumbles. Behind him I see Jess straightening up. I open my mouth to warn him and take a step forward to pull him out of the way, but I’m too late and her hand closes around his throat again, this time holding a knife.

“I dare you to try that again,” she hisses, pressing the blade in deeper, causing a thin line of red blood to appear on his neck. Mikey stiffens. “That’s what I thought.”

We stand like that, in an awful stalemate. Finally Jess’s eyes lock with mine. “Who’s first?” she asks. Then she smiles slightly. “Actually it would be second wouldn’t it? Our gorgeous front man just couldn’t stand to let anyone else steal his spotlight, now could he?”

She sickens me, talking about Gerard like that. The smile disappears. “So who will it be? The grief stricken little brother? No I think we’ll drag his pain out a moment longer, don’t you? So then the innocent guitarist? Or the meddlesome drummer? Your choice.”

Involuntarily I glance back at Bob. “The meddlesome drummer it is, then,” she snaps, impatient at my silence.

She throws Mikey forward roughly, sliding the knife lightly across his throat as she does. He is bleeding heavily now. He stumbles and lands face first on the ground next to his brother. She moves so that she is standing exactly in front of Bob. Ray moves to block her and she swings into the side of his face, the gun hitting him square in the temple. He falls to the ground, unconscious but, I hope, still alive. She repositions herself in front of Bob and raises the gun up to his head.

“Hm,” she muses. “Head or heart? Which would you prefer?” she asks him. Quickly Bob raises a fist to swing at her face. But Jess is faster.

“Wrong choice,” she snarls, lowering the gun and firing two shots into Bob’s leg. Bob collapses to the ground, moaning softly. Jess and I remain the only ones standing. Jess smiles. “Now, I’ll ask again because I’m just that polite. Head or heart?”

Then sirens split the air. Flashing red and blue lights fill the darkness outside the windows and I can vaguely see several police cars in the parking lot outside.

Suddenly nothing is slow. Everything is happening too fast. I see Jess’s startled look, then I see her recover her composure. I see her raise the gun again, I feel myself running towards her. I feel our bodies collide, I hear the gun go off. In the background I hear the police storming the bus. I hear the shouts, of police officers, of friends. I hear everything, I see everything, I feel everything, but still I have no idea what’s going on.

Then everything stops moving, everything goes silent, and I see a hand offered in front of me. I look up to see a police officer standing in front of me. “It’s over,” he says calmingly. “It’s alright.”

I want to believe him but honestly, I don’t think anything will ever be alright again.

I take his hand and pull myself up, feeling my nerves start to calm down. As they do I remember my hurt arm. I look over the wound. It’s deep and it hurts like a bitch but it’ll be fine. The adrenaline stops flowing and suddenly I’m unbelievably exhausted.

I look around the bus. Gerard and Ray still lay unmoving on the floor. Mikey is now kneeling next to his brother, trying desperately to find a pulse. Bob is struggling to stand with the help of two other police officers. And there at my feet lies Jess’s dead body, her eyes still open, staring and lifeless. I look back to the officer.

“She lost control of the gun when you tackled her. One shot to the head, she died instantly,” he explains. But I don’t believe him. Jess doesn’t lose control of anything. Ever. I think there was still something good inside her that took advantage of the distraction and decided to end it through the most drastic of means. I don’t think her death was an accident. I think she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Emergency medical services are on their way to take care of the others,” he says in the same soothing voice. I like him. He is kind without being patronizing. I think he must have been in the same position once, his eyes tell me he knows exactly what I’m going through. “In the mean time,” he continues, “we’ll need to get your statement as quickly as we can. Are you up for it?”

I shake my head. I don’t even know what happened myself, there’s no way I could explain it all to him. Not coherently anyway.

“You’re Mr. Bryar, I assume,” he says. I realize he is talking to me. “When we got your call we didn’t think it was quite so urgent so we didn’t bring ambulances. The hazard lights told us something was up. That and the gun shots.”

I shake my head. “I’m not Mr. Bryar,” I say shakily as I look at Bob. He shrugs.

“I called them as soon as I got the tape. I know you asked me not to, but hey. It was the only time in my life I didn’t listen to you.”

I smile. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

Bob frowns. “Yeah me too. It could have been a lot worse.” A loud sob from Mikey makes him look down at the still bodies on the ground. “As it is it was still pretty bad though.”

A moment later more sirens are heard outside and two big red ambulances pull into the parking lot.

Two teams of paramedics hurry onto the bus and quickly exchange information with the officers. Gerard is gently lifted onto a stretcher and carried out to the first ambulance, Mikey never letting go of his hand. None of the paramedics mention his condition, but they haven’t body bagged him yet, so that’s a good sign, isn’t it? They wouldn’t be so gentle with a dead body, would they? Ray is carefully moved to a second stretcher and a wheelchair is brought out for Bob. Bob and I get into the ambulance with a still unconscious Ray.

“So now what?” Bob asks me. I know he is talking about Jason and Frank and Jess’s death and the future of My Chemical Romance but I pretend I don’t because I can’t think about that just yet.

“Now we focus on making it through the next couple of hours.”

Bob nods. The last paramedic gets in and closes the back doors, then sirens and tires screech in harmony as we race into the night.

Sorry, it cut off before, but here it all is. Enjoy! Love you to pieces (don't make me make that literal).