A/N: This was out under Marching Band because I met these two through band. Disclaimer: This story is completely fictitious, take no offense.
Like Lace
Suisun is a dangerous place to be at night. We were alone when we heard it. Walking back to his house, actually. Both of our parents were out of town, and I was staying over.
I watched the glow of lights through the leaves, outlining patterns on his skin like lace.
He suddenly stopped walking.
"What Shawn?" I whispered, admittedly I was afraid.
"Shhh, and don't move." He grabbed my hand and held on with an iron grip.
It was then I heard it. A scuffle behind the bushes. A sickening slicing sound cut through the silent air.
Shawn looked at me, his eyes pleading. I saw a figure now, a silhouette against the backdrop of light green leaves. It stepped into the moonlight.
I could see that it was a younger man. He had dark skin and a slightly manic look on his face. Out of his dark, over-sized jacket he pulled out a semi-automatic handgun ... and pointed it straight at my chest. I looked him in the eye, trying mentally to persuade the stranger to put down the gun.
"Don't." I said, my voice cracking with fear.
Then, for the first time since this man stepped out, I looked at Shawn. He was looking at the man and studying him, probably trying to think of a way to talk this out.
I watched the glow of lights through the leaves, outlining patterns on his skin like lace.
Oh no, I thought to myself, finally realizing the seriousness of this. I could die. What would my family think? What would Tyra think? What would Shawn think?
Tears were flowing freely down my face as well as Shawn's. I closed my eyes as our attacker aimed the gun at me. I'm sorry, I thought to everyone. I said mental goodbyes to those closest to me. My family, Tyra, James and Shawn. I'm sorry you had to be here, dude. I really am.
Just as it looked to be my final moment, I looked pleadingly at the gunned man. My gaze drifted to Shawn, my best friend.
"I'm so sorry." I mouthed silently. I closed my eyes and drifted somewhere else.
I was awaken by three things happening in quick succession. First I saw Shawn jump directly in front of me. Next, I stood horrified as the crack of the bullet leaving the gun cut through the air. Thirdly, I fell to my knees as the bullet hit Shawn on the left side of his chest. The attacker ran away, and I didn't know what to do.
I placed my palm over his wound, only to be weakly pushed away by an unwilling hand.
"Shawn, lemme help!" I was screaming now, and lights were flickering on in the closest houses.
"No, it's no use now, Daniel." He managed a weak smile with the heart breaking phrase. "Don't cry, now. It's alright, it was not your fault. But, Daniel?"
"Shawn?" I was clinging to him now, willing him to live.
"I - I've..."
"What? What is it Shawn?"
"I've always...loved...you."
"Shawn, I - I"
Shawn squeezed my hand lightly and went unconscious.
I watched the glow of lights through the leaves, outlining patterns on his skin like lace.
•••••••
I don't remember much after that. I remember the police, a woman pulling me from Shawn. I remember the men putting Shawn on a stretcher. I remember the waiting. As Shawn's entire family, as well as mine, were in the Philippines visiting extended relatives, I was the only one the doctor gave information to.
"Sir, I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell you this, but you're friend, we couldn't save him, son. I'm sorry." He was holding my shoulders, a vain attempt to comfort me.
I could feel my throat drying up. This man, calls himself a doctor! I begin to yell, scream, like any of it would bring Shawn back.
"You liar! He's not dead! He's still here! What kind of sick f*** are you?" Hot tears are springing to my eyes. He loved me. He loves me. He can't be dead, that's my freaking best friend!
"Can I see him?" I ask sullenly, my voice hoarse from screaming.
"Sure." The doctor replies. "Second door to the left."
I walk in the door, Shawn occupying the bed closest to the window.
I open it, remembering how Shawn loved the sky at night. That's why we had been walking.
I looked at him. He looked so small under the white sheets. They contrasted against his skin, darker than mine, even as pale as it was. "Why was it you?" I yelled. "Why wasn't it me?"
I was angry now. Angry at myself for risking my life. Angry at Shawn for trying to save me. Angry at the doctor for being stupid. I kicked the nightstand, tears staining my face.
I'm sorry Shawn, I'm so sorry. I looked at him. He was peaceful in death, I could tell. His features held the playful grace he himself embodied. I held his hand in mine, it was warm, though still, obviously lifeless.
I watched the glow of lights through the leaves, outlining patterns on his skin like lace.
finis