Nick could hardly sit still at work. Ever since his dream last night he had a sick feeling in his gut and it only got worse with each passing moment. His gut told him to go to Gatsby's house, but he couldn't just leave work. He had tried calling the house several times but the line was always busy, which didn't make Nick any less nervous. About fifteen minutes later and he was practically trembling in his chair. 'It's probably nothing' he kept thinking to himself, but that didn't do anything to calm him. He glanced nervously at the clock. It was 1:03. He had his lunch break in two minutes. It took about 10 minutes to get to the train station, 30 minutes to West Egg, and about 5 minutes to get to Gatsby's, he could make it there around 2 o'clock. Then again that would be 45 minutes there and back, and he only had 40 minutes for lunch. "It's probably nothing." Nick whispered to himself. "Nothing."

Nick stood outside the building and started walking towards a little restaurant that he frequently visited on his breaks. The food was always delicious and this cute waitress was always happy to see him. He stopped at the entrance, but he didn't go in. Instead he turned his back on the restaurant and ran into the middle of the street to flag down a taxi. Before he rushed into traffic the thought of Myrtle crossed his mind. Luckily the car in front of him wasn't driven by Daisy and came to a screeching halt.

"What the hell are you doing?!" The cabbie leaned out of his window.

Nick opened the backseat and jumped in. "I need to get to the train station."

"So you thought it was a good idea to almost get yourself killed?!" The cab had already started moving back with the flow of traffic and the meter was running.

"Listen I just need to catch a train to West Egg as soon as possible so could you please speed up?"

"Alright, alright. But if I get pulled over you'll be paying my fine." He added under his breathe. "You lunatic."

On West Egg there was more difficulty finding a ride, but at 1:58 Nick was on his way to Gatsby's mansion. The whole ride over his heart and gut felt like they were sinking lower and lower into this unexplained unease. When the taxi had barely stopped at the front door Nick threw some money to the front seat and jumped out. He didn't bother knocking on the door, but instead shoved them open and started sprinting for the pool in the back. The new servants looked at him, but none tried to stop him. Nick was outside on the lawn when he took a moment to let out a sigh. Gatsby was lounging in the pool on an inflatable bed. However as soon as he spotted Gatsby he spotted an ashen figure moving through the trees. Nick started running toward the pool again to intervene. The figure raised an object...a gun. Nick was almost there. "Gats..." The sound of a gunshot was heard and then a splash in the pool. Nick felt like he couldn't breathe. His head was swimming and he couldn't think straight. There was another gunshot and Nick's mind went blank, almost like he blacked out while awake. The next thing he remembered he was laying by the pool and shaking. He stared up at Gatsby's light blue eyes and dripping wet hair.

"It's going to be alright old sport." Then Gatsby yelled to his servants that had gathered around. "Someone call the hospital!"

The butler didn't move. "But the phone lines have been on hold for..."

"This is more important than that! Call the damn hospital and get a goddamn ambulance!"

Nick was pretty sure he was going into shock and slowly losing consciousness. He felt Gatsby grab his hand. "Nick...Nick look at me."

Nick thought 'Where else could I look? You're right in front of me.' but felt like he shouldn't talk. Gatsby however didn't stop talking. "Stay with me old sport, you're going to make it through this. I don't even think you got shot anywhere vital. Just don't close your eyes on me, hand in there. Don't close your eyes Nick, help will be here soon. Stay with me old sport, stay with me."

Simply telling someone not to close their eyes, or to stay awake does little to actually help the person with the task. So despite Gatsby's urging Nick's blinking became more frequent until the time where his eyes wouldn't open.

(A/N: This is simply a teaser/introduction so that's why it's so short. I also can't decide whether I want this story to be in the 20's or today, so if you have any input I would love to hear it.)