Two and Three

The Point of No Return

They sat there for that longest time in silence, trying not to think about what was going on while at the same time trying to avoid fantasizing about a future that might not happen. Tony could only hold onto Lisha for so long before she started fidgeting.

Ian watched as Tony closed his eyes when she got up to check on his leg. The percussionist had said that he wasn't sure if he had gotten used to the pain, or if his leg was just going numb, but either way, it didn't hurt so much anymore. He couldn't put any weight on it, but that was a luxury that he had gotten used to not having in the last few days. He could live without it...at least until this was all over.

Ian chose that moment to put some distance between him and Lisha. He knew that once she was done stretching her limited medical skills (God only knows where she acquired them) on the bullet wounds, she would find her way over to him and put on that face that made everyone trust her help.

It's not that he didn't, it's just that Ian wasn't so thrilled to be reminded of he was separated from the others in the beginning of this all. What was so different about him that he should get the "special treatment" while the others just got to wait. He went to go sit in the opposite corner, and hoped that Lisha wouldn't remember to check on him if he didn't move. No such luck. Several minutes Lisha looked over to him and motioned to see his arms. "Please just leave me alone," Ian forced through his teeth.

"I'm just trying to help," she whispered.

"Don't, there's nothing you can do," he pulled his arms deeper into his hoodie and sank back against the wall. It was horribly uncomfortable, but it was the best he could manage with such limited resources.

Lisha pulled Ian out of his spot, back to the group. "Fine then. But don't sit by yourself. We need you, okay?"

He nodded and sat down where he was before. "How's your head?" He asked and nodded toward the bruising.

"Throbbing," she replied. "Thanks for asking though."

"No problem," he said quietly, trying to ignore the dryness of his throat. They sat in silence for a little while, unsure of what to say, unsure if saying anything was even a good idea. It already felt like death was hovering in the room, playing Eeny-meeny-miny-moe with their lives. There would come a time when he would choose and in that moment, they'd never be the same again.

Ian never had the time to notice before, with his mind clouded and the adrenaline of Lisha's escape taking up most of his thinking energy, but now that the silence was whole, the words left unspoken, screamed louder than ever.

Drying pools of rusty brown stained the colorless grey floor with the memories of screams and two by fours. He could smell the pungent odor of decay spreading across the room, welcoming the reaper like an old friend. Blood ran black from his friends' wounds as if the poison of every bad decision the five had ever had was finally coming back to haunt them. And at the forefront of all the bad decisions, was his own idea to go to the diner after rehearsal.

Tony tossed his head to one side and hissed through his teeth. "Guys?"

"What?"

"I don't know," he forced himself to sit up straighter. "I just had the.... Something's wrong I know it."

"What?" Ian repeated, but Lisha seemed to catch Tony's vibe and instinctively leaned over to check on Abbie. The guard girl was awake, or at least she seemed to be. Her eyes were forced open like she was being possessed and her breaths were coming in rasping gasps.

"I can't see anything," Abbie breathed through tight lips. "Why is it so dark?"

Ian was about to make a statement about how it wasn't dark, but caught himself at the last moment. Lisha raised her hand then dropped it against her leg limply. "Hold on, Abbie," she murmured through the tears. "Just a little bit longer, we promise. Not now, don't go now." She hiccupped.

"I'm not going anywhere....it's finally warm... Did we make it outside?" The guard girl's eyes wandered aimless, looking at everything, but seeing nothing.

Ian sank his teeth so hard into his bottom lip that he tasted blood. What was he supposed  to say? There had to be something he could do. Anything at all. This couldn't be it. Not after this long.

Tony leaned closer so that he was laying, propped up on his hands, by Lisha's shoulder. "Yeah....we made it out. Everything will be okay now."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, promise," Tony's voice cracked.

"Where's Michael?" She asked. None of them knew what to say to that. What could they possibly tell her if he wasn't actually here.

"He's getting help, everything will be okay," Ian managed to choke out at last. "You'll be okay. We'll be okay."

"The prop fell on me," her voice grew weaker as she started recounting their last competition. "And Marisa caught my flag instead of her own. I heard we did well either way...I hear voices."

Lisha put her hand on her mouth and turned around to sob, while Tony put in half heartedly, "We have voices, you're hearing us."

Abbie frowned in his general direction. "It doesn't sound like you....oh....wait...I can see now."

"You do?" Lisha asked halfheartedly.

"Yeah....we're back on the practice field aren't we? I can see the drum major's platform, and the floodlights....and the sky." She searched the floor for purchase and for a moment Ian thought that she was trying to sit. He surged forward and told her to try not to move, but then he realized she stroking the ground, not unlike how she ran her fingers through the grass. Abbie trained her eyes directly at the ceiling and squinted like she was trying to filter out the blindingness of the floodlights. "We hit that diag' perfectly," she murmured through a shuddering breath. Then just like that, she was gone.

Lisha let out a strangled sob and fell against Ian in a loud blubbering mess. Tony dropped his head into his hands after closing the guard girl's eyes, as he tried to keep his form from shaking. Ian held Lisha close and stroked her hair while she soaked his hoodie with tears. A knot grew in his stomach as he realized that there was no turning back from here.

That night, they cried.

A/N

*Innocent whistling*  I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting til the war's won, I don't care if heaven won't take me back.

#Know-NothingParty
#IKnowNothing