Second Boys Will Be First Choice (A Brallon Fanfic)

Six Thirty It Is

"Brendon, please I'd rather just call the cops."

"Dallon! We've gone through every option, I won't let you go to prison, and maybe it's selfish but I've already lost everything. I can't lose you, I can't not be able to touch you and call you and I don't care if you don't even feel the same way anymore because I understand how important your family is to you but I'm in love with you and..." I stop, out of breath. Dallon is silent. I look up at him and his eyes are closed.

"I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't..."

"Can't or won't?" I step closer to him.

"Can't." I close my eyes and nod.

"So call the police."

"I won't."

"So tell me the plan again."

"Brendon I can't let you do this."

"No you can't, but you're going to let me. Tell me the plan again." I watch tears glide down his face in defeat and I hate it.

"I'm going to drive home, and tell Breezy you're sick, I'll leave the car at the house and take a cab to your house. I'll get your car and put blankets in the trunk..."

"And gloves." I interrupt him; my back is sweating a waterfall at this point. "We can't forget anything."

"Blankets and gloves and then I'll drive back here, we'll put him in the trunk," his voice starts stuttering from the crying "on the blankets and drive to your house. Now tell me your part."

"I'm going to wait here with him, until you get back. We'll put him in the trunk and drive back to my house. We'll put him in the garage. Then we'll take his phone and smash it, run it over, whatever it takes. Then we'll burn his wallet. We'll take his phone and the remains of the wallet and drop it down the sewer. Then I'll call Ryan," Dallon cries harder and I bite the inside of my mouth wishing I could fix it. "And I-I-I'll get his car keys and...I'll give them to you, you'll put the body in his trunk and I'll distract him." Dallon hunches over and bawls into his hands. I watch helplessly, as more tears stream down my face. "I'll get up and go to the living room. You'll be there with the keys. I'll put them back in his pockets. Then I'm going to pay for your cab home."

"We're going to go to prison."

I add to the plan, because there's nothing else I can say to make him feel better. "...and if they catch us, I'll take all the blame."

"Brendon no..."

"That's the plan. Do you understand? I am not letting you take any of the blame. It was a mistake! That's it! This whole thing was a fucking mistake! I was having aftershocks of losing my wife! That's it! Just a fucking mistake..." I hunch over and vomit up whatever alcohol left from last night, coffee, and the toothpaste I swallowed only half an hour ago. I watch Dallon glassy-eyed. He stumbles into the car and stares at me through the window for what seems like an hour before the car starts and he peels off the side of the road and drives off down the street. I glance down and the guy. His blood spewed all over the grass. I yank my phone and text Dallon fingers shaking,

"Bring a lawnmower too"

I watch it send agonizingly slow. Then my eyes roll over the blood on the sidewalk.

"and bleach too."

I start pacing and wondering when the police car that arrests me will drive by. "At least Dallon isn't here so they'd just think I brutally murdered an innocent jogger because my animal instincts finally cracked and..." on and on and on. At one point I think I forgot the guy was even there with me.