Dying For Your Love

He's My Everything...

It came from the hills, right where Dallon had seen the glint that had been bothering him earlier.

It was exactly what he'd refused to believe it was.

Exactly what he'd told himself it could never be.

A sniper.

The bullet pierced through Brendon's arm with a sickening zip and the sound was enough to make Dallon's heart stop. His eyes went wide and his breathing picked up, that familiar feeling of anxiety building in his stomach as an intense fear rendered him immobile.

The music blasting over the speakers stopped as soon as the bullet hit. The only sound over the speakers now was the feedback from the guitars and bass after the sniper had messed with the sound setup. Spencer shot out from behind the drumkit and tackled Kenny to the ground-pulling the two behind the safety of an amp- when he saw that the guitarist had been in too much shock to move for cover.

Everything was moving so slow and too quickly all at once. Dallon couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't stop the bullets. The intense fear mixed with the anxiety and shock he was in were all mingling together into one big jumble of dizzying symptoms. It was enough to make him feel like he was about to pass out at any given moment.

Another crack rang through the air and then he heard it. The crowd screaming and struggling to get out of the concert venue, security scrambling around while trying to contain the crowd, stage crew's panicked voices as they tried to pull Spencer and Kenny out from behind the amp they were both cowering behind to the safety of backstage.

Brendon was screaming in pain, his face screwing up in agony as he dropped to the ground, a bullet hole now through his left thigh. It was then that Dallon's body had decided to work. He screamed in a panic, the blood flowing freely from Brendon's wounds making him begin to hyperventilate.

"Brendon?! Brendon! Brendon, please say something!"

Dallon expertly swung his bass behind him and began running over to the singer. Brendon cried out in fear. He cradled his wounded arm to his chest while out stretching his uninjured arm to the bassist as a warning for him to stay put.

"NO!!! Stay there!! They're aiming for me, not you! Dallon, stay-"

Brendon's desperate cries were interrupted by a third sniper shot.

Dallon felt his dress shirt beneath his suit begin to stick to his skin, his stomach feeling uncomfortably sticky and warm. That was when he'd looked down to see that his suit jacket had popped open and there was a large hole in his dress shirt underneath. The bullet had traveled clean through his stomach and destructed his body in the process. He could see the previously crisp black shirt beneath his suit turn a dark red color.

Dallon made eye contact with Brendon, face blank as he crumpled to the ground, his white bass spattered with fresh blood.

It took a second for Brendon to process what had just happened but the moment he'd met eyes with Dallon, his brain had snapped into action and screamed at him to move.

"Dallon?! DALLON, NO!! NO, PLEASE!!!!"

He was screaming bloody murder as he scrambled over to Dallon's barely moving body. Brendon pulled the bassist behind a large speaker to shield him from any more oncoming bullets but he knew the damage had already been done.

"Please, you gotta stay with me. Come on, Dall. Don't you give up on me!"

Brendon situated Dallon's head on his knee, his injured leg outstretched while the other was bent underneath him.