A/N: Written to Lies by the Knickerbockers.
Davy ran his heart out. It took everything he could not to trip, to look in front of him. He felt blind, looking back behind him more than he was looking ahead.
He was breathing hard, air whipping by him. He still couldn't believe what he'd heard. It was a lie. They were all lies. He had hardly processed it. Now he was just trying to run. Faster and faster.
He almost ran into a wall, leaping to the side and tripping, picking himself up just as quickly. Terrified to look behind him and see them closer. Was there anywhere to hide? Did he have time?
A loud shot. He ducked, trying not to sacrifice his speed because of it. This was not how he'd expected his association to go. He'd thought it was an opportunity. It had seemed like it for a long time. By the time it got sketchy, it was too late. And he still hadn't seen this coming.
He darted down an alley, hoping there would be cover. He didn't have time to evaluate before he was going full tilt. A dumpster, a falling awning, a stack of chairs. He banked around them. More gunshots hit the brick around him. Suddenly, there was a clear opening. His heart dropped out of his throat. He could only get away by getting through this part fast. If he didn't, he was a sitting duck.
But he had to look back. Close. So much closer than he'd hoped. But he ran. He had to run.
It was desperate. It didn't matter if he didn't understand—didn't understand why it was all a lie, what had been happening all along. He just had to go faster.
Another shot. This one hit him, ripped into his torso. He shouted and grabbed his side. He grabbed it tight. He had to keep going.
He had faltered, though. He could see the alley opening at the end, close, but the person with the gun—the one who'd deceived him—was closer. Another shot. His shoulder. He didn't bother holding this one. He kept running. Pure desperation and fear kept him going.
The alley opened, and opened wide. A park.
He almost stopped. The footsteps behind him did. He looked again. The gun was aimed right at him. He gasped and forced himself to keep going. There was a—was a tree ahead. The pain kept eating him, a bite every time a foot hit the ground. He ran through the open space. The next shot hit his leg and he tumbled onto the ground.
He couldn't get up. He dragged himself along the ground, knowing they were coming. He was choking on his breath and his groaning.
It was all the biggest, most attractive lie he'd ever seen.
In no time, he turned around and saw the gun aimed directly at his head.
But he really hadn't seen the lie.