Don't Talk to Strangers

XII

I felt as if my world had dropped out from under me. I couldn't move, only standing in complete horror as Dan stood in front of me, sobbing with the gun in his hand. It was when he stopped sobbing that I was snapped back to my senses.

"Dan!" I panicked, launching myself at him and the gun. "No—Don't do that!"

He evaded me, stepping back. He tripped and fell backward, flailing, into the couch. I jumped onto him, trying to wrestle the gun from his hand. He was much stronger than I was, and he was able to buckle my arms and shove me off of him. He got up, unstable, and stumbled away toward the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," he started whispering again. "I made a mistake. I'm not going to bother anyone any more." He was crying again.

"Dan... No, please, I swear you can begin again. If you return the files, if I don't press charges—which I won't—you can... Please, don't do this." I couldn't handle the thought of having someone's death, me being at the center of reason, on my hands. No, I pleaded in my mind desperately, practically in tears myself. No, no, no, no, no.

He couldn't bring the gun up from his side, he seemed extremely at war. I guessed he'd never gotten this bad before. "Please..." I breathed again, stepping toward him. I held my hands out in front of me, trying to appear harmless. Like an animal. He was like an animal. An instable, afraid, cornered animal of whom I was the only hope. 

I choked back a sob, trying to clear my mind and just focus on the physicalities. 

He violently jerked back, yelling out again, "Stop! Let me fix this! I can fix this. I can fix this." He started repeating "I'm sorry" again and I felt desperate to do something.

"Killing yourself isn't going to fix anything. Dan, if you kill yourself..." I breathed, realization dawning on me as I spoke, "...you'd ruin my life far worse than if you stayed. Dan, I can recover from this. The kidnapping. I can learn from this, we can move on. But if you were dead? If you were the cause of your own death? I couldn't... Dan, I'd feel responsible. Please..." I sobbed, "don't make me have to live with that guilt."

He shivered and looked up from the ground, eyes dark and wild with pain. "But..." he said quietly, "why? If I left, why would you feel guilty? I feel guilty. I'm guilty."

"No," I repeated. "No, I would. Because, see here? What I'm trying to do is save you. If you didn't let me save you, then I'd have failed... I would have failed and it would be... too much..."

The tears were flowing down my cheeks now, and the tables turned once again. He stood, staring silently at me, his face twisted in concentration. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to remain calm. 

"I already lost someone before..." I sobbed. "Don't make me lose someone again."

He shuddered, taking in a long, deep breath. He let out a cry of frustration and I squeezed my eyes shut. It was silent for a split second.

Then I heard a loud bang and I screamed.