Color Me (under construction).

25. God

There were no more bad guys fight, and no more speeches to be made. Bravery blew away like unwanted dust, in its place was panic in the face of fear. Everything around them, except for the blood seeping through Beau's shaking hands, seemed frozen.

Calvin wasn't suppose to be there, why was he there? There was no way fathomable enough for him to have been there. He had no part in this type of world. He was always meant to be naive to this side of John and Beau. Yet here he is, bleeding out in her arms.

"Beau," his voice was soft as he took a hard shakey breath. "You're a good... person. A better friend... and I-Im glad I got to know you."

"Its okay, Calvin. You're gonna be okay, I promise."

His blue eyes were gentle as they looked into her teary brown irises. "I'm not...gonna be okay. You have to tell Lillian. You have to... y-you have to..."

Beau shook her head quickly as Calvin sputtered. His breathing was short quick puffs before the silence of his lungs, his head lulling to the side.

"Calvin? No, please," she whispered. Her voice broke into a scream as she moved to do chest compressions. "No! Help, someone please! John help me, why aren't you helping me? John!"

"Stop, he's gone." John's vpice felt empty as he reached for her. His strong arms tugged her to her feet as she fought to get back to him, "Beau, stop."

"No!" She ripped herself away from his touch, falling back to Calvin before John picked her back up.

Tears fell quickly as Beau sobbed, kicking and thrashing against John as he pulled her away. He held her tightly into his chest, her knees buckling as they dropped together with her weight. John rocked her gently as she broke in his hold. His eyes were glued to the deceased boy lying a few feet before them. A boy with his whole life left waiting for him, now hanging abandoned. Dreams he could now never fulfill, plans he can never finish, and promises he was forced to break.

John knew they couldn't stay there, his hands moving to carry Beau like a child. He slipped a hand beneath her knees, and his other supported her back as he lifted them to his feet. Beau no longer fought against him, instead she let her body drape.

The car ride to the city was long and silent. Beau sat pressed against the passenger door as John drove. Everything felt numb all the way to her core. Her tired eyes watched the lights pass in a blur, commiting every moment of what happened in that god forsaken house to memory.

"Why was he there?" She asked, her voice hoarse. John gripped the steering wheel tighter, not answering. "Why was Calvin there, John?"

Her dark eyes burned into the side of his face. He refused to look at her, eyes narrowed on the road and brows furrowed in thought. She saw the same torment eating at him about what happened, except she couldn't find a single reason to feel bad for him. She knew better, this was not all on her.

His tone was tight, "I told him to stay in the car."

"Why was he even in the car?" Anger was building, spreading through her numbness like a disease. Her words were accusing, she knew that and she wanted John to know it too.

"You were gone," the words were barely audible, "I didnt... I couldn't do it alone."

Beau nodded stiffly, her lips pressed into a tight thin line. She'd be a liar if she said it didn't make sense for him to not have listened, Calvin was a fighter and he'd always protect those he loved. Except, there is no version of this life where he was suppose to literally take a bullet. Beau wanted it so badly to have been her in his place. It should have been her, out of everyone, that should have taken that bullet. In another life, it would have been Beau's body left behind with nothing and no one.

What was she suppose to tell his parents? How is she going to be able to look Lillian in the eyes and explain Calvin was dead.

Calvin is dead. It all happened and he is dead. Never coming back, and it didn't matter what God Beau prayed to. Tonight, to Beau, God died with Calvin.