Title- Everything will be better in the morning or The Sun always shines Tomorrow or Why Not?
Warnings- Character's death, from his point of view!
Summary- Sometimes, you are on top of the world, with not a single care. Then, other times, you've been shot through the throat, and end up bleeding to death in the arms of your best friend. And then, it's over. Warning- Character's Death.
Disclaimer- Like I said, if I owned this show, Greg would die frequently, only to return the next week. Not good for a story that tries to be realistic.
A/N- Totally forgot- Sequel to the Why? Series! Thanks achildwithbloodstaineddagger and GreggolovesNciky for reviewing within 24 hours. Test is over, so, decided to write another one- ALL MISTAKES ARE MY OWN!
THOROUGH GREG WHOMPING AHEAD!
Unconscious did not claim Greg Sanders as he laid against a pink carpet, trying to remember why his head hurt, or, for the matter, why he was laying on a carpet that was defiantly not his. His carpet was black, or so he thought… well, his thoughts weren't exactly in the right order, and everything felt jumbled and sluggish. Slowly, the dirty blonde haired man started to rise to his feet, when he felt a large boot push him back down roughly. At that moment, everything came back, just as a voice from above whispered in his ear.
"Stay quiet, boy, or I will put a bullet through your brain.." And Greg felt the cold steel of a gun barrel against his temple. Admittingly, what he did next was not very smart, but Greg would not play the victim, again.
"Like Hell!" Greg yelled as he rolled over, bringing up a leg to kick the attacker, causing the other to fall.
A scuffle soon ensued, the man quickly jumping on the ex-labtech, who had been running for the door. The gun seemed to be forgotten as the attacker used his weight to bring Greg down, a hand coming up to smack the smaller man, then muffle his call for help. Greg did everything in his power to fight the man off, scratching, biting, kicking, wiggling, but the click of a gun's safety going off took the fight right out of him.
"Now, boy, I don't think that was very wise.." Greg looked into the man's blue eyes, and saw nothing, and knew that the chances of making it out of here alive were slim.
"We are going to stand up, and head down, and then we are going to walk right out the door. You are my ticket out of here, and, if you behave, you might make it out of here."
Greg admitted that he felt no comfort in the words the man spoke. Before he could complain, he was lifted up from where he laid and was forced to stand on shaky legs. An arm came across his chest and around his throat- a choker hold. The gun was then pressed against his back, forcing him forward, through the doorway and towards the staircase.
The second his dark eyes landed on Nick Stokes, Greg suddenly wondered if he would actually live, and felt a sense of hope. Nick's dark eyes widened as he spotted Greg, but instantly became darker when he saw the man, filled with rage. If anyone were to save Greg, Nick would.
His hope was instantly smashed as the gun returned to his temple, and he felt himself pale as Nick also did. Not a good sign when your hero pales. Then, the attacker started talking.
"Don't worry, Tex, this boy is my ticket out of here. Move over and let us through, and I promise.." The man pushed the gun a bit into Greg's temple, and Greg couldn't stop wincing, watching as Nick grinded his teeth but said nothing as the man with the gun continued talking, "Not a single lil' hair out of place."
Hope started to blossom in Greg, because he thought he might actually live to see tomorrow… That was, until Brass came in with two officers, guns coming up instantly. He actually felt the man behind him sigh as if he didn't want to do what he had to do- which was probably shoot Greg. And, if he could make his jaw work, Greg would have happily stated he didn't have to die today.
So, this is how it's going down?" the man behind him said, almost sadly, before pressing the gun against Greg's scalp, making the ex-labtech wince once more, and try to shuffle away, but the arm wrapped around his neck kept him in place. Silently, he started listing his regrets, and dreams that would never happen.
"Drop the gun!" Greg didn't know who said it, but wished that, struck by a conscience, the man actually dropped the gun. Instead, Greg watched as Brass shot, feeling the jerk of the man, but the gun only shift a bit, before he heard two more rounds.
Behind him, the man suddenly became impossibly heavy, forcing Greg to lean forward, and start falling down the stairs. Still, the impending tumble didn't make Greg's dark eyes widen with pain and fear, or raise his hand to his throat-
No, it was the fact that as he gasped, he felt liquid trickle down his throat and air escape from a hole in his neck.
Whoot- shot greg. Ok, next one, extreme angst- the get a feel for how Angsty, go listen to Before Dawn by Kajiura Yuki (link in my profile)
ALSO! Next chapter will be last flashback, so the writing will flow WAY better.