Oblivion {n.h.}

Chapter 42.

"You what?" Grey calmly asks, his lips stuttering out the first word, his eyes wandering around the floor suspiciously.

Carly makes her way over to me with my clothes and comforts me motherlingly, holding my shoulders and facing the opposite way from the madness.

Within a lightning fast moment, Grey's pistol is in his hand and the trigger was pulled without hesitation. My eyes peak over the side of Carly's shoulder just as I finish pulling my shorts all the way up my legs.

The bullet making its way straight into Zayn's brain reluctantly, as people scream and more tears begin to stream down my face, turning away from the horrible ring in my ears, and not wanting to look at the mess the small bullet had just made. Zayn's eyes roll to the back of his head, and he falls to the ground with a thud.

"YOU!" He turns quickly, now pointing the gun in Niall's direction, his eyes filled with red from the broken vessels in his face and the whole thing puffy from hard hits Niall had thrown at him. "I WANT YOU DEAD!" Grey screams again, the fear in my veins returning at a sickening speed.

Several shots of a machine gun echo through the air, and Grey fallen into a heap on the floor. Perrie standing behind where he'd just been, a better shadow as she looks down on the boy, my heart beating quickly as people cry and scream in agony. "Son of a bitch." Perrie says quietly, spitting on the boy beneath her, dropping herself to the floor and crawling over to where Zayn lies on the floor.

"Shhhh." Niall makes his way to my side of the room, kneeling down in front of me and resting his hands on my knees. He sets his shotgun to the side and brushes some of my wet hair out of my face.

Liam picks up Zayn's body from the side of the bed, staring softly in our direction, pure sorrow filled in his eyes, Perrie breaking down when she sees him limp in Liam's arms, Harry and Louis following behind, Thomas being the last one out of the room, picking up the heap of Grey from the floor before exiting.

All of a sudden the tear ducts behind my eyes start to release, and I lean my head down onto Niall's shoulder, sobbing hard, Niall's bloody hands caressing my face and wet scalp, soft sniffles escaping his face.

"It's okay now." He whispers to me, his ocean blue eyes staring into mine hardly, and it would be impossible to look away.

He lays me back onto the bed lightly, removing his shoes and slowly flopping down next to me as well, his hand now rubbing the interior of my thigh.

"Did he hurt you?" Niall whispers ever so quietly, his lips next to my ear.

I turn to face him, his eyes filled with sorrow and dread, his tiny mouth in a frown as he watches my eyes only, and I only mod, my mouth quivering now before my eyes start to water once again.

Moaning and sobbing uncontrollably, Niall lays closer and let's me cry, rubbing my back occasionally and pressing kisses to my ear wet with tears.

We lie there for what seems to be hours, and what might actually have been, Niall only looking towards the middle of the room now, sitting up with his arms around his legs, only staring at the spot on the floor where he had nearly beaten Grey to death earlier. A red puddle, the wooden floor boards stained with Grey's crimson blood, dripping with evil.

My sobs have calmed down, my whole body nearly dehydrated from losing so much those few hours before, only small tears escaping my eyes when I blinked.

"I let Zayn get killed." I whisper, my voice thick with cracks, not talking for the longest time.

Niall's head turns undeniably quick, and he shakes his head as he rubs my arm hardly, obviously having no way of believing that statement.

"I..." I tried to speak, the words not wanting to finish escaping my lips.

Niall shushes me again, and cradles me in a spoon, rocking us lightly.

"You don't need to say anything." He tells me, calmly speaking into my ear. "You did what you could; and there's nothing you can change now."

I nod my head at his words, small tear droplets escaping my eyes wether I want them to or not.

"He didn't touch you did he?" Niall stops cradling me for a second, asking his question carefully, and he holds his breath as his body stills, probably dreading the answer to his question.

"No." I reply, one of my hands reaching down to feel the sore marks on the inside of my thigh, "He fought so hard Niall, so hard." I sniffle quietly, Niall moving the duvet and revealing my brown string strap shorts to him.

Moving the shorts away from the red part and moves his hand across it slowly, his eyebrows furrowing in painful memoriam of the moment it happened. His blue eyes reverting between the mark that's begun to scar and my own eyes.

He reaches over to the bedside table, grabbing some bandages from the first-aid kit Jade had given him, and tapes up the scratch marks nicely. His fingertips barely brushing over my skin and he presses a kiss to the bandage after it's been put in place.

"Josh would we so fucking proud of you." Niall looks back up at me from where he lays between my legs, and I try to hold back a smile now.

"Do you think things would have gone differently if he was still here and in charge?" I ask Niall, the Irish boy getting back to his indented spot in the bed.

"Maybe," Niall rubs my knee now and our eyes stay just inches apart, "but things happen for a reason, and I know that if Josh were here right now, he'd be telling you the exact same thing."