Seventy nine - Dylan O'Brien (completed)

T w e n t y F o u r

Within five minutes I was pulling up outside La Bamba, it wasn't a surprise because one, there was no traffic and two, I was speeding ridiculously, eager to get to Thomas before he did something stupid and frankly regrettable.

Even if it would of made another interestingly brilliant and entertaining story for Dylan.

"So what we got here?" I groaned as I walked over to where a saw Thomas sat on the steps of a long closed La Bamba. "Ahh shit Tommy, look at the mess you're in," I sighed crouching down in front of the sandy blond lad who I now saw was sobbing hard.

"Where did you come from?" he slurred, sniffling as he looked up, his eyes scrunched up with confusion as he tried to figure out where I'd appeared from.

"The hospital," i sat down beside him, his head automatically falling on my shoulder, "What's up Tommy, this isn't like you,"

"I needed to get drunk, so I did," he sighed.

"You could of just came to me hon, you know you can talk to me," I smiled ruffling his hair.

"Yeah it would of been difficult to talk to you though,"

"Why would it?"

"I can't talk and cry about one of our best friends not knowing us or being able to recognise us with him right there can I?" His sobs were growing louder again and my heart skipped a beat as I realise he was here, drinking away his pain and sorrows because he was hurting over the loss of his best friend. He missed the best friend he knew and loved in Dylan, who still didn't know us.

"Tommy," I whispered, wrapping my arms around him, "I'd have made the time to come and see you if I'd have known it was this important," I smoothed his hair down, desperately trying to soothe his loud cries, "Don't you dare wonder off to drink away your pain again because you think you can't come to me ok? I'll always be here for you silly, wheather I'm half a continent away or by Dyls bedside,"

"Really Lo?" He gasped, clearly shocked and evidently still wasted, as he turned to face me and I nodded. "Then I guess I know where to be the next time I feel like shit," he smiled slightly, shrugging before he leant on me again.

I'd seen Thomas angry, I'd seen him happy and excited, drunk. Even sad and confused, this was something else. He was lost.

Glancing at my phone I sighed, "Come on T, time to move,"

He looked up frowning to try and focus, "Where?" He groaned.

"Home, come on," I stood up and faced him. I tried to pull him up, "Come on Tommy,"

"My home? Where is my home? Oh my god where is my bloody car?" He began panicking as I hauled him, one arm around his waist  and the other holding on the his arm that he'd slung around my neck, towards my car I'd left running in front of the club.

"Oh I bloody swear Thomas, if you so much as gag in the car, you're paying for the bill to clean it," I smiled, trying to cheer him up.

"I wasn't finished in the club," he whined.

"Oh yes you was. Besides you'll feel the full effect of tonight in the morning I can imagine," I laughed, "Then you'll never set foot in La Bamba again," I added, "You can come get your car tomorrow when you're sober,"

The first twenty minutes of the drive back to my apartment were filled with dead silence, it wasn't awkward but more Void. Neither of us knew what to say or how to talk about what would happen if Dylan were to never recover his memories of us, if he were to never truly remember us.

"The stories aren't working," I sighed, finally caving, "I genuinely thought they would, I thought eventually he'd just click and realise that the stories I've been telling him relentlessly for over a week, are about me and him. I thought maybe our childhood memories, high school and our entire lives together would jog something but, it's just not," my words began blurring together as it finally burst free.

The truth.

Finally admitting defeat I cried, "There's less than thirty hours until he's gone and there's nothing I can do to stop it,"