NatePat One-Shots

Too Late

song; none
warning; robbing, shootings, brutality
natepat

He was just supposed to run a few errands before he got back home. His husband gave him a list of things that he needed done by the time he got home from work. With Nathan working around the clock and Matthew staying home to watch their four cats, he was more than happy to get out of the house. It didn't take a lot of convincing - if any - to get him to get groceries, go to the post office, and go to the bank.

But, it wasn't supposed to happen like this. He was just supposed to get groceries, then go to the post office, then go to the bank. Only, something was holding him up at the bank: a gun to his head.

Sometime during his thirty minute mark of standing in the line, a gunshot was heard, followed by a screech. More screaming, more gunshots. Matthew was on the ground by now, pulling his knees to his chest and taking quiet, deep breaths to control himself from making an anxiety attack during the bank robbery.

"Listen, we don't wanna hurt anyone," the voice sounded oddly like a generic dad from Boston, "just stay on the ground and no one gets shot. No one makes a sound, everyone's safe, but I will start picking a few of you to kill if one of you gets noisy."

Everything was going as planned for the robbers until a small child started to scream. Matthew whimpered, burying his face into his knees. Every kid in the building began crying as well, and the man seemingly in charge of the robbery grabbed a quietly sobbing man, and Matthew.

"What did we say about makin' noise? Now ya got two poor guys we gotta kill," another man from Boston, or was it New York? Matthew was too busy crying to notice. He didn't want to die, he had a family to get home to, "now which one-a-ya crybabies gettin' killed first?"

"Me," the man next to Matthew sniffled, wiping his eyes, "don't hurt him, please."

"Fair 'nuff. Face the wall," he could've sworn there was a quiet 'idiot' that followed his words, but he didn't have enough time to really think about it before the gun went off. The man's brain and blood were spattered against the glass windows before he collapsed to the ground. Matthew crumpled on the floor, and the man stood over him with a gun pointed to his head.

"Please, please let me go home," Nathan begged, looking up at his boss.

"Listen rookie, I know you got that pretty husband of yours to get home to, but we have a big problem. That bank off fifty-five just sounded the alarm for armed robbery," the big woman frowned, beckoning the tall man to follow her.

"W-Wait, Saint Mark's Bank? F-fuck, we gotta go," he shook his head in disbelief, "I think my husband's there."

Sirens screamed from outside the bank. Nathan pleaded to be let inside, but after the S.W.A.T team looked around, they wouldn't let him.

His team looked away long enough for him to sneak in undetected, watching as police officers held the robbers against a wall. There hadn't been much damage, other than the two bodies on the ground. Nathan ran to both of them, choking down a sob when he saw a familiar face. Pulling the man's I.D card from his back pocket just confirmed it.

Sean Fischbach, his best friend and Matthew's best friend's husband. They'd all been close, and he was praying to gods of every religion that the other body wasn't Mark's.

However, he wished he hadn't prayed when he saw the body on the ground.

"Officer! You've gotta get out of there!" his boss screamed, and he just looked back at her with empty eyes before looking back at the dead body of his own husband.

Too late to get home.

He was always late to get home, but Matthew always forgave him.

Too late to ask him to marry him.

They'd been dating eight years before he proposed, Matthew still said yes.

Too late to save his life.

He would never know if Matthew could forgive him.