The gunshots stopped and an eerie silence pervaded the air before the sound of terrified voices buzzing and security shouting at people to stay back broke it. Activity lurched back into action as Ryan Murphy let out a whimper, "Oh god…"

Fans screamed and my ears were ringing from all the sound, my eardrums begging for relief. My mind was foggy as the terror gripped to me. "G-guys?" I looked around, eyes wide. The cast that hadn't emerged from the building yet were being pushed back inside by security, "D-Dianna?" she was backed against the brick building, eyes wide. "Dianna?" He followed her gaze and heard a strangled shout and spotted Mark falling to his knees. She was screaming, but was forced into the building with the rest of the cast.

"Mark!" I screamed, clawing forward as two security guards tried to pull me back, "MARK!" I didn't know then that I was screaming for the wrong friend.

"MARK!" I broke through the restraints and pushed through the crowd, nearly passing out from the sight I saw.

Chris was laying in Mark's arms, a hole in his chest, blood pervading from the wound. With each pant, more dark red –almost black – liquid soaked through his white button up. Mark was pleading with him as I pushed through, falling to my knees next to him.

"Chris…please…." Mark whimpered, putting his head to his forehead as he pressed a hand to his chest. The white skin went from white to red and moist in an instant.

No. No. Not Chris…not my cast mate; my friend. Not the sunshine. The smile. Not the joy. The happiness…the hope…the innocence.

I looked on, feeling hopeless as Ryan Murphy yelled for the ambulance to fucking get there already.

"Don't do this!" Mark nearly shouted, rocking him, "Stay with me. Stay with us…o-okay? What's your name?" he asked, quickly, his voice desperate, trying to get him to focus and hold on.

Chris shuttered, "C-ch…" he swallowed and more blood poured from him as he shook. "C-Chris…" he made a choking sound.

"Y-yes…yes, stay with me," Mark pleaded, "What's my name? Who am I?"

"M-M..M-M…" his face got paler as his hand shook on Mark's arm, gripping tightly. My heart broke a little more with each stutter.

"Come on…" I breathed then fell to my knees next to them, "Come on, Chris…" I ran a hand through his hair, getting the bangs off of his forehead.

"Mark," he choked out and a trail of blood trickled down his chin.

Mark sobbed and I could tell he was trying hard to keep it glued together for everyone; especially Chris. That's how he always was. Like that time that Chris fell off his scooter on set and got a bloody elbow. Mark brought him to his trailer to clean him up even though the sight of blood made him woozy. He almost passed out from the sight, but he held it together to bandage him up and gave him a kiss to "make it all better." Or when they'd all watch a horror movie and Chris would cringe and shake. Mark would hold his hand tight and tell him it was all fake. And while we would tease Chris for it, Mark just threw popcorn at us, telling us that they were going to make fun of us when we were pissing our beds from fear later on. There was that time that Chris told us about his sick sister. Mark let him cry and cry into his chest as he rubbed his back. Even when his legs went numb from kneeling down on the floor to hold him on the floor of the dressing room when he broke down.

He was always there for Chris. He called him his angel; the shining light in his life.

And I could tell it was killing him. This was killing Mark; not knowing if his angel was going to be okay.

"Chris, can you stay awake, please?" I begged as his eyes fluttered, "Look at Mark, Chris. Look at Mark, he's right there. Right there…that's it."

He forced his eyes opened, locking them on Mark. Chris whimpered as he opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a pool of blood and a choking sound.

"NO!" Mark yelled, making him sit up, but the choking continued as his body started to twitch and convulse. "CHRIS!" he shouted, "Chris, no! Breathe!"

"Ryan!" I yelled, jumping up and turning, "RYAN! Where's the ambulance?"

But it was too late.

Chris was laying limp in Mark's arms, blood down his face and front, head back, his body arched almost gracefully. He really looked like a fallen angel.

My knees felt weak and somehow I was on the ground, sobs making my body lurch forward as the sky opened up. A crack of lightening brought on lighting that filled the sky. The rain mixed with my tears and I watched as it washed away the blood Chris's face. Too bad it couldn't wash away the pain. Wash away the…the death.

I watched in silent horror as Ryan cried, the paramedics rushing forward as though in slow motion. They were too late…too late.

Mark let out a shout that was foreign to my ears, ringing overpowering it. He clung to his body, shaking his head desperately as they tried to take Chris from him. No one could do that. No one. They were attached; didn't anyone get that? They were attached mind, body and soul.

Now….now….I shook my head, trying to call to them to leave them alone, but my voice caught as Chris was ripped from his hands. A tormented scream reached my ears and I crawled to him, the rain soaking me to the bone as I grabbed onto Mark, holding him back.

"CHRIS!" he screamed, fighting against me, arms flailing. "I need Chris," he whimpered, "CORY! LET ME GO!" he yelled, but I held fast, my heart not only breaking but disintegrating as I watched them carry him away. No…this couldn't be happening.

Mark sobbed, finally falling forward, too weak to struggle. "C-cory, I…I need my Chris…" he cried and I pulled him toward me, holding him against my chest. He clung to me, desperation in his fingers and voice.

"I need my Chris…"

"I know," I breathed, crying with him.

We all did.

He was the light. Our sunshine. Mark's love. The glee family's gem. One smile from him and all your troubles disappeared.

So…who would make this one disappear?

"C…chris…"