//PETES POV\\

||1 PM||1 Hour before||

I'm s been 40 minutes and I still can't find Patrick, Brendon, or Hayley. I'm terrified. I'm hiding in a bathroom stall, Gerard right beside me, trying to calm me down. "Pete, breathe. It's alright. You're okay."

"I started this. I confronted him. I'm a murderer," I sob, holding back the bile rising in my throat. Gunshot, after gunshot, after gunshot; each one, a punch in the stomach for me. I bend over the toilet, and vomit.

Boom

Another person hurt or dead, because of me.

"Pete, it's okay. Please stop. It's all going to be fine." Gerard is rubbing circles on my back, now. He is slightly comforting, but not enough. I'm still a wreck. "Pete, please. You're scaring me even more, now." His voice is melodic. Like a guitar against the beat of the best if the gunshots. "Teenagers scare the living shit out of me." (suits the situation)

Suddenly, we hear a pair of labored footsteps come in, shutting the bathroom door behind them. Painful grunts emerge from this mystery person's throat. The voice is pained, but familiar. That's when my heart crawls into my throat, restricting my airway. "Brendon?"

"P-Pete?" He calls back. "Oh, thank God you're alright. I thought you were dead. I'm so sorry about this." He has a strange tint to his voice. Pain. Oh, no.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I tell myself as Gerard opens the stall. He pulls Brendon in after him, and that is when I see it. THERES a bullet wound on his left hip. It's big, and blessing heavily. "Y-you were hit?" I whimper, burying my face in my hands. "This is all my fault."

"It's nothing I can't handle," he slurred, trying to reassure me. He gives me a lopsided smile. "Patrick will be here soon. He has a strategy to stay out of Bryce's way." His smile stays on his face until Gerard pushes a ball of toilet paper up against his wound. "Gee," He hisses, "That hurts like a bitch!"

"More than getting shot in the first place?" Gerard questions, pushing more toilet paper on the wound. "I'm not letting you die of blood loss, Bren. so shut the hell up,"

"Point taken." Brendon winces as Gerard attempts to cauterize the wound. He squeezes my hand so tight, I swear he'll break it. "Im sorry for flinching, Gee."

"Guys?" Another voice calls, echoing through the bathroom. Patrick. "Guys, are you in here?" His voice sounds terrified, almost like it was when I first met him. Timid. Scared.

Gerard opens the stall door, motioning towards him. "Get. In. Here," he pleads. He lets out a little cry, this is a side of him that I've never seen before.

Before I know it, Patrick is running through the stall door, locking it behind him. He glances at me, taking a second to assess my state, before his eyes travel to Gerard, pushing more toilet paper against the wound which has slowed down its bleeding. "Brendon," he breathes. "He got you. Shit, he got you." Patrick began to cry. Sob. Brendon is his best friend. it's understandable.

"I'm fine, 'Trick. I promise I'm fi-" His voice was cut off by the door opening again. Everyone was here. Oh, no.

"I told you I'd find you, Wentz. And your friends." Bryce sneered, kicking at the stall. Endless kicking. "Oh, fuck this." He growls. he shoots the latch, forcing the stall open. "Where do I begin?" He grins, popping the bullet into the barrel. "Lets start with you, huh?" He points the gun at me, making me shut my eyes in anticipation.

BANG!

Pain hits about 5 seconds later, emanating from my stomach, and spreading through my body, all the way to the tips of my toes. I can't scream in pain, because it hurts too much. I slump back in my chair, my breathing labored with pain.

"PETE!" Patrick screams, standing up immediately, running over to me. He catches my head in his hands, supporting it. "Stay with me, Pete. Stay awake." He tells me, but I don't want to. I can't think. The pain is numbing me. I'm numb to any feeling except agony. He pulls my head up to where my unfocused eyes meet his. "Okay, Pete, I promised Bren I'd tell you this and it seems like this might be the last time I'll be able to. I like you, a lot. Like, like like you." He nibbles on his bottom lip, trying not to let tears fall from his eyes. Before I know it, he's crashing his lips onto mine. "I'm so sorry, Pete." He cries, his head moving closer to my chest.

BANG!

This time it's Patrick who winces. He slides off of me with an 'oomph'. That's when I see the bullet hole in his back. Tight in the middle. "Im so sorry."

"P-Patrick," I wheeze. "Don't be. It... It's my f-fault. I caused this. I... I caused all of it." I'm whispering, now, my vision blurred to a point where color is all that I see.

BANG!

He shot Gerard. Gerard screams in agony and holds the bullet wound in his arm. "YOU ASSHOLE!" He screeches, fighting back tears.

"Now, for the finale," Bryce says, clenching his fist. "You all did this!" He screams. He turns the gun up against his head, screaming.

"Bryce, don't," I plead, my voice almost inaudible as I clutch the wound that he inflicted.

"Shut it, Wentz!" He screams. "I'd live life I prison, anyway!"

BANG!

He drops like a stone.

"HELP!" Gerard screams. He glances around us, as do I. Brendon is almost unconscious, Patrick is sobbing uncontrollably, and I can barely keep my eyes open. "Sarah and Hayley are in the girls bathroom next to this one. I'm getting them." He stands up, still holding his arm. He trudges out of the bathroom, momentarily.

"HE WHAT?!" Hayley yells. She sounds more pissed than scared.

A moment later, Hayley, Sarah, and Gerard are pushing back into the bathroom. Hayley takes one look at us, and fights off a scream. She glances at Patrick, then me. "Pete, don't close your eyes. I can see you want to. Don't."

Sarah walks in behind her, immediately dropping next to Brendon, grabbing his head, and pulling up onto her lap, stroking his hair in a gentle fashion. "You can't die, Brendon. I haven't even kissed you yet."

"Then kiss me."

That's when I hear people. Paramedics. That's when I know I'm safe. That's when I close my eyes, letting darkness creep in.

"Pete, stay awake!" I can hear Hayley and Gerard shouting.

"I can't."

Sometimes you need to bleed to know
That you're alive and have a soul

But it takes someone to come around
And show you how

(S)he's a tear in my heart

--a/n--

I think I might update once more before I go to bed, because I'm addicted.

I love you my Carcrashovercastyoungbloods

-Emily aka, foblvr