You Won't Feel A Thing - (The Script Fanfic)

Chapter 41

The sickness came again, enveloping me in a tsunami as I hunched over and dry-heaved at the ground just under my feet. I refrained from touching the ground with my newly-broken left ankle as I knew that it would only increase the intensity of pain flowing through me. As  I sat back up, black dots peppered my vision, acting as a constant reminder of the current weakness of my body. 

"It's your time to shine, Danny Boy." Dylan walked over and patted Dan on the shoulder. I watched as Dan tensed, his back going straight and growing to his full height. His hair was flat, stuck to his forehead slightly with what I assumed was sweat. The gun held in his hands took my focus, my throat locking from the size of it and the destruction that it would cause. Dan stepped forward slightly, to which my eyes flickered up to meet his. He broke the connection to look at the rest of me, his eyes slowly growing wider as he saw the dried blood coating my wrists and the red fingerprints that I knew were in the process of bruising. 

"Teghan?" His voice hardly formed recognition, as though I looked nothing like my normal self. To believe that Dylan had altered me so much hurt like an arrow to the chest. 

"Yeah. It's me." My voice was thick and plagued with voice alterations from my swelling throat. 

He stepped closer again, his eyes looking down upon me. "What the fuck happened?" 

"I think I should be asking you that. Why the hell do you have a gun?"  He looked down at the gun, then back down at me. In that moment, things became clear, and I felt my throat clog up with fear. "What's he got against you?" I tried to hide the hurt, the hurt of knowing that he was going to end up pointing that gun at me and I wouldn't live to see the results afterwards.

Danny sighed in exasperation. "It was Rina or you. But I always make these fucking decisions and choose the wrong one." The frustration on his behalf was obvious. "Mark would kill me if I chose you over Rina. I'm just so sorry." His voice broke slightly, more in annoyance than anything. He cleared his throat, disallowing any eye contact with me to instead look at Dylan. 

I stared over at Dylan too. "You're a sick bastard."

Dylan made his way over this time, strolling casually and looking a complete opposite to the scared little boy I had seen only a few moments ago. "So I've been told, sweetheart. The only thing is that I don't particularly care." He was stood in front of me, causing unpleasant shivers down my spine as my mind was working on overdrive to take everything in during my final few moments. His hands reached down to hold onto the chair's arm rests, him leaning down to reach my eye level. His face was so close to mine, his breath being felt on my face every time he exhaled. "Just face it. You're going to die, and there is nothing you can do."

"I'm not going to die." I continued to stare at him, my brain not filtering what I was saying at all and the adrenaline making me more gobby than usual.

Dylan looked genuinely surprised, allowing his eyebrows to raise before he laughed in disbelief. "What?"

"You gave a good guy a gun. Do you think that was really all that clever? Especially with the police just outside and a warrant with your name on. Damn - you really aren't smart at all." My lips curled slightly as I knew I was right. I looked over to my left to see a window, the scarlet and cobalt police lights flashing in alternations outside still. "All they need to hear is a gunshot."

I was ever so grateful that Dan aimed the gun towards Dylan as he stood up to turn around. Dylan simply barked out harsh breaths of laughter. "You don't even know how to shoot the fucking thing." He pulled a pistol out from the waist band of his trousers and aimed it back at Dan. 

Crawl or walk, I don't care. Just get out of the way! I pushed off of my good ankle and managed to drive my body over to the right, away from the line of fire, but into a messy ball on the floor. I shifted my body around, allowing my left leg to lie out straight (well, as straight as a broken ankle can go) and folding my right one under me. My eyes flicked between the two of them, hoping that I wouldn't have to get up and run because I knew that I sure as hell wasn't able to. In fact, I was sure Dylan depended on that as he side-stepped towards me and dragged me onto my good foot by my hair, expertly keeping his gun on Danny at all times.