The Fan- A Bastille/Dan Smith Fanfiction

Chapter 9

Dan's POV

An agonizing scream tears through the night, pausing my sharpie half-way through signing something.  The noise is filled with so much raw pain that it sends shivers through my entire body.  Everyone around me has stopped what they're doing, equally as disturbed as I am.  Another wail soon follows the first, this one a cry of desperation rather than pain.  The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.  It's obviously a girl who is in trouble, somewhere down the street.  I don't know why, but something about the scream sounds familiar...

I scan the crowd until my eyes fall upon Mary, looking pale and anxious.  Wait, where's Caela?  My head whips around as I turn in circles trying to locate her familiar face.  She's nowhere to be found.  Alarms go off in my head and I push my way through the crowd, ignoring people's indignant protestations.

"Mary, where's Caela?"  I demand in a low tone. She simply shakes her head, her body starting to tremble.

"I-I don't know!  The last time I saw her she was trying to find a trashcan!  I told her there was one down the road, that way."  Mary points an unsteady finger at a large, dark building, where I can just barely make out the shape of a dumpster.  No. No,no,no,no,no,no.  This is isn't happening-- not to Caela.  The thought of any type of harm ever coming to her fills me with so much dread that I feel as if I might be sick.  But one more look at Mary's pale, terrified face and my fears are confirmed.

I drop my sharpie and sprint away in the direction of the building as fast as I can, Mary and the rest of the guys in close pursuit.  My heart is thundering so violently in my chest that I think it might explode.  It feels like it takes me ages to finally round the corner of the building.  When I do, however, my body goes cold all over.  Caela is there, lying in a large pool of blood, unconscious. 

"NO!"  I yell and rush over.

I drop down at her side, ignoring the blood seeping into my jeans.  So much of it, I think.  It's everywhere-- filling the cracks in the street, drenching her clothing, running down her face.  My hands are shaking so badly as they hover over her face, unable to touch her in fear that I'll just add to her suffering.  If she's still alive, that is.  No! I scream at myself.  I refuse to even think that. 

"Caela! Caela, no don't do this to me, please!  Come on babe, please! Don't go!"  I take my fingers and check her neck for a pulse, but my hands are trembling too badly to tell.  I can feel hot tears begin to sting the backs of my eyes, a lump forming in my throat. 

I look at her face, and a ragged sob escapes my lips.  Her face is terribly bruised, her left eye swollen shut completely.  Her lips are bloody and cut, parting slightly to show blood on her teeth and gums.  And her nose.... Oh God, how could someone do this?  And why wasn't I around to stop it?  I am suddenly filled with a red hot anger, both at the attacker and myself.  I should've been there to protect her. 

With tears sliding down my cheeks, I wrap my arms around her body and pull her onto my lap.  As I do this, she feverishly cries out in pain.  I glance down at her shoulder, and I grimace.  Her right shoulder is lying at an awkward angle, the bone protruding grotesquely from the skin.  I suck in a sharp breath at the sight, imagining the agony she must be in.  She pulls in another weak breath, her eyelids fluttering.  I can feel my heart begin to pump with a new sense of hope.  She's alive-- unconscious, but still breathing.  I look up and find all of the guys, Greg, Sam, Coop, and Mary (as well as a couple of other bystanders) anxiously watching us.  Kyle is holding an inconsolable Mary, talking to her in calming whispers.  Will is speaking urgently into his cell phone.

He clicks the end button and says, "I just called 911.  They'll be here shortly."  He shoots me a worried glance.  I turn my gaze to Woody, who just looks utterly petrified and sick with worry.  People are starting to gather round now, talking in hushed whispers and putting their hands over their mouths in shock.  I continue to hold Caela in my arms, refusing to let go until help arrives.