The day had already been monumentally shitty. The worst of the worst days. An absolute steaming-pile-of-crap day. So, really, it was only natural to finish it with a perfect cherry on top - his call from Death-Cast.
He was alone when the unmistakabl...
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𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚖 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟷𝚜𝚝, 𝟻:𝟶𝟷𝚊𝚖
Calum had never felt so anxious in his whole life. It was like someone was inside his body, twisting around his organs and squeezing his heart. No matter how many deep breaths he took, his lungs rejected them and opted to only take a minimal amount of air at a time. He was pacing, leaving footprints on the living room carpet where he was walking again and again.
"Would you calm down?" Zayn asked from where he lounged on the couch, obviously a bit annoyed. "They're probably fine."
He held an ice pack to his fist, which was still bleeding from absolutely clocking the neighbor, Luke Hemmings. Niall and Calum had tried to stop him, but the guy was dead set on hitting Luke. Calum supposed it worked, though. Luke ran off right after that. Only, Ashton and Michael had already run off and, for the life of him, Calum could not find them.
"No, you don't understand. They could be hurt or dying right now." Calum was working himself up again. He couldn't help it, though. He was carrying the knowledge that not only was Michael dying, but that Ashton was too. He knew what Ashton wanted, but he was past keeping secrets - especially with the boys missing. He was going to say what he needed to say, the consequences be damned.
"If anything happens to Michael, Ashton will come find us," Zayn said disinterestedly, to which Niall stood up from the couch to join Calum in facing Zayn.
He shared a look with Calum, the brunette nodding his head in support, before he turned back with a frown and avoided Zayn's curious gaze. "Not if he's dead too."
Zayn did a double take, lips parting as he inhaled sharply. "What are you-"
"Ashton got his call." Calum folded his arms across his chest, starting to feel nauseous as the reality of the situation set in. He took several breaths in an attempt to regulate his racing heart, but it didn't seem to have any effect. "He didn't want anyone to know. That's why we didn't tell you."
"I'm his fucking bodyguard!" Zayn got to his feet, leaving his nearly melted ice pack on the arm of the couch without any care of the condensation dripping onto the leather. "Don't you think I should know if he's dying?!"
"You can't do anything to stop it anyway, so there was no real point in telling you if he didn't want that," Calum defended wearily, unable to look at the angry grief tearing at Zayn's facial expression. He, instead, looked down at his shoes. He felt Niall place a hand on his shoulder which, he could admit, was a bit comforting. Niall would take care of everything. He was older and he'd known everyone the longest. He would fix it, no problem.
"If you want to be mad, Zayn, that's fine. Just don't do it today. Be mad tomorrow. I don't give a crap. Just not today, alright? Please."
Calum heard Zayn exhale deeply and he took that as a good sign, looking up to find that, sure enough, Zayn's anger had mostly faded into something more sad and resigned. He nodded after a moment.
