Young Volcanoes

-Chapter Twenty Two- Part Three of Three

There was a mad glint to his eye, and it was at that moment that i began to fear for my life.
"Ryan, woah, calm down-" i stutter, raising a hand in alarm. Ryan sneered in response.
"Don't you dare tell me what i can and cannot do, Wentz." He spat, hand over the trigger.
"I can say whatever the fuck i want. What have i ever done to you, Ryan? Please explain."
Ryan paused.
"You took him away from me."
I glanced skeptically at him.
"You took yourself away from him."
Ryan stares point blankly at me, before heaving a sigh.
"I loved him so much. I still do."
"Ryan, that's not my fault." I whisper.
He looked outraged. "It was!! All your fault!! You, and your fucking boyfriend's fault. You know what'll really hurt him? Ending. You." Ryan steamed, putting a single bullet into the chamber.
"Ryan." I swallowed. "You shouldn't do this. Brendon isn't going to love you much more if you shoot me. You'd go to prison, for sure. It's not like you're being very logical here. Ryan, you have the rest of your life to live here. Just because you loved him, and you did a stupid thing, does not give you the right to assault me, rape my boyfriend, and then threaten to kill me. Please, dear god, please, think about what you're doing here. I don't just want you not hurting me, and Patrick- i don't want you to hurt yourself. Murder stays with people forever. Please, Ryan. Please, for once, listen to what i'm saying." I shake.
A tear escaped his red-raw eye. A certain fear took over him, the gun wavering in his hand. His aim... was right at my chest. My heart... and, incase you didn't know, if you're shot in the heart, you really do die. Surprise, fuckers.
I inhaled, deeply; this next action could consequence in life, or it could in death.
I took a step towards him.
"Get the fuck away from me..." he whimpered. "Please don't hurt me... they hurt me..."
Who hurt him?
"Ryan..." i say, taking another step. His defence was straight back up. Fury. That's all i saw in him right now.
"I'm warning you, Wentz..." Ryan whispered.
"I'm not scared of you. I don't know who hurt you, or what they did to you. But they hurt you. I feel that pain. It still doesn't give you the right to do this." I say. I was crying now, too.
Tears and anger glimmered beneath his pale surface. "No. You don't. And you just made your last mistake, Pete." His eyes darted towards the trigger.
I used his moment of hesitation against him, and lunged for the gun. He wasn't expecting me to lash out, and loosened his grip. I hit his head against a rock, pretty hard. Blood. I punched him in the gut, which temporarily knocked the oxygen out of him. He thrashed and kicked back, only getting a semi-good punch in there here and there.
I knocked the gun out of his hand. He stared, and inched towards it. I inched towards it.

Bang.