Heat Haze

Sticks and Stones

A/N

Got nothing to say. Here's your chapter.

Even though he couldn't feel anything from it, Don thought he had nightmares about the attack. There was blood. His blood. Everywhere. He had seen large amounts of bloodshed, after all, he was the assassin of the group, but not his own. He almost never saw his own blood. That bastard. He held his head his anguish as an earsplitting thumping was all he could hear. He could get over it, he just needed to relax. It won't happen again.

"Deep breaths," he muttered to himself, fumbling with his phone as he played the message.

"-look, I don't, SHUT UP! Don, please get your ass over to my apartment. Dick is being an insufferable bitch and I can't handle it," "I told you not to-!" "Can it, you piece of-"

The message suddenly breaks off. Oh thank god. It wasn't Duni. But, what were the two doing? He needed to keep his mind off of the last cycle. The past is past. Don sat up. He needed to get ready.

By the time he had walked his way over to Dashlie's apartment, he was pretty sure that she had already killed their friend. Luckily, he doesn't need to knock to find out. He could already tell the two of them were in there.

"Okay, what happened..." Don's voice trails off. It wasn't as bad he expected, the room was still clean and there wasn't any blood on the walls, but his two friends were both sitting on the couch, one of them holding an opaque bottle and the other huddled in the corner of the settee. Richard is also holding a cloth, which he's waving around.

"Stop being a piece of shit and just let me help you!" he exclaimed. Dashlie vigorously shook her head.

"Just leave me alone!" she replied. Don almost sighed.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked loudly. The two almost immediately stopped trying to kill each other, staring back at him with wide eyes. Richard is the first to speak up.

"Dashlie called me over because she cut her hand badly, and since the others probably won't be happy with us going to the hospital without their permission, we have to deal with it here. And she won't let me clean the cut," he explained.

"Yeah, because it hurts!"

"You're supposed to clean the cut before you put a bandage on it!"

"But I don't!"

"How has your hand not fallen off yet!?" their bickering continued, getting even louder this time. Don, still in a slight state of shock, stands there for a minute before intervening.

"Okay, you two. Break it up. I'll handle this myself," he commands, taking the cloth and the bottle from Richard. "Dashlie, I need you to show me your cut. If we don't cleaning it out, it'll get infected," he tells her. The albino pulls her hand closer to herself. He can see some of her crimson blood dripping down her forearm. She stares at him, her bright red eyes in terror. Don gently touches her wrist. She loosens up before Don takes a look at the cut.

"Oh geez, that's bad," Richard comments. Dashile's cut was a bloody maroon that ran diagonally across her palm. The blood... It was different from his, but Don couldn't get that meeting with Duni out of his head. What was he going to do? Should he tell them? Should he really help Duni?

"Uh, Don? Earth to idiot," someone's voice snaps him out of his thought.

"Oh, um, right. Richard, can you get me the bandages?" the brunette nods, disappearing into Dashlie's bathroom. Don turns his attention back to the girl. "Close your eyes if you have to, this is going to hurt," Dashlie mumbles her agreement before sharply turning her head to the left, her uninjured hand over her eyes. He places the cloth onto the top of the bottle before quickly turning it upside down. He then caps it and rubs the cloth together. Holding the older female's hand still, he gently wipes the cut, the dried blood disappearing. Dashlie is quietly sniffling, her fingers twitching slightly as the solution rubs into he cut.

"Got the bandages!" Richard yells, coming back in with a box of large sticky bandages. He puts them next to Dashlie. Don opens one and places it neatly on her cut,

"There you go," he finishes. The woman turns back to the two and smiles as best as she can with the tear streaks.

"Thanks, you guys. Sorry about not letting you help earlier, Dick," she apologizes. Her smile twists into a playful grin. Don can't believe it.

"For the last time! Don't call me that!" Dashlie erupts into laughter, enjoying her favorite pastime. Don would laugh too, but he can't get his head wrapped around what Duni told him.

"Hey guys? I need to tell you something," his friends quiet down.

"I talked with Duni recently, and he offered me a deal. Said that if I helped him in whatever he needs me for, he'd end my contract. Then he told me that if I didn't help him, that I would die and you two would be set free," he leaves out the endless cycle part. As much as he trusted them, he didn't think that it was the best idea for the two to know. The silence is broken as soon as its made.

"Don, I don't know how to respond to that. As much as I, actually all of us, want our stupid fucking contracts to be burned, this just isn't a good, I don't, I just-" Dashlie fumbles over her words.

"What Dashlie is trying to say is that we all want our freedom, but we're willing to give it all up for you. I can't imagine a life without you. I don't know how we lived before you came along, but I think I speak for both of us when I say that those were the most miserable months of our lives. If we have to run for the rest of our lives, we wouldn't even try if you weren't there with us. But in the end, it's your decision. I can't speak for you," Richard explains. For him, that was surprisingly profound.

"Thanks, I guess," Don replies quietly. He still doesn't know what to do, but he has a better feeling about it now. His friends support him, and support is one of the few things he could ask from them. It wasn't much, but at least he knew that the people that love him will still love him no matter what.

"Do what you think is right, Don, but don't forget that we will still support you. Even if you die and we're all grieving, we'll understand," Dashlie finishes it off. The three don't speak for while, the silence being deafening. It's only until Dashlie talks again that the heavy mood is lifted.

"Don...Richard...Doesn't the pharmacy down the block have a clinic?"

"SON OF A-!" the room is filled with laughter and confused shouting.

"Well, if we went to the clinic, we wouldn't have this talk, would we?" the oldest male states. No, not at all.

"I should still go there. But I'll probably just need one of you guys to come," she said, standing up from the couch before putting her shoes on. Before Don can say anything or volunteer, Richard beats him to it.

"I'll go with you," he volunteers. "I haven't done as much as shorty here did, so it's only fair,"

"I think I need to pick up my medicine from the pharmacy, actually. So it won't hurt to go," Don replies. The three leave her apartment and reach the elevator.

"Race you down!" Dashlie challenges. "Richard, you're coming with me. You could use the exercise!" the taller male groans.

"I do more physical labor than both of you combined," he complains.

"Yeah, and you're still some how that frail. Quit complaining!" she practically drags him down the nearby stairwell. "Loser buys us all ice cream!" she quickly yells before shutting the door. Don sighs. Guess he's taking the elevator. When he presses the down button, the doors immediately open and he steps in. Pressing the first floor, Don almost doesn't notice the jerky movements of the elevator before it's too late. The elevator is nearing the fifth floor when it stops completely.

"Oh fuck," the elevator suddenly drops.

A/N

If there's any grammar mistakes, I apologize but I didn't check on this chapter, mainly because I didn't have the time and I wanted to get this out ASAP.