Bitter Dream

[backslash]

((Sebastien Bellamy continued from Killer Munchies))

"Finding somewhere safe" had actually entailed trekking all the way across the resort. Every place they stopped in-between showed too many signs of people in or around the area. Too many hints about the violence that was already taking place. Sebastien's mind kept drifting back to the guy who had stopped in the theater and what he might have heard that made him take off again so quickly.

Finding the hotel lobby empty was a relief. There was a lot of talking and planning that needed to be done, and camping out in the lobby while they decided was much better than trying to hash things out while standing around in the snow.

Or it would have been, if not for the speakers in the area blaring to life and smashing their pretty little illusion of peace into bits.

Names. So many names.

Sebastien didn't look at the others as the announcement went on. He had known this was going to happen, they'd all known it. That's how SOTF went.

So many people from Davison.

He was barely aware that he was heading to the front doors until he was halfway out. "I need some air for a minute, I'll be right back. Just yell if you need me." Don't follow me.

Back out into the cold. Sebastien moved what he judged was a safe enough distance from the doors before slumping against the side of the building and covering his face with his hands. He'd be able to hear the others if they wanted him to, but he really just needed silence for a few minutes.

So many people from Davison, and not all of them victims.

I can't take this. I can't take this.

[Latin For Dragula]

((Gabriel Munez continued from Judicator))

The names, the snarky commentary, the dumbass music...none of it mattered to Gabe. He was only looking for one thing in the announcement, and he got it in spades.

Proof.

Everyone knew what Gabe had known all along, now. They couldn't question him, it'd been as plain as possible: Lucy attacked him. He defended himself. She was the real monster.

Dragging the sword behind him, covered in bandages and cuts, with barely the energy left to move, he still felt better than he had in a long time. He was alive, and nobody could question him about what happened now. If he could just find a place to calm down and rest up for the day, he could fight his way back in.

As he approached the hotel, he flinched away from someone bursting out of the doors. He wasn't ready to fight again, especially if someone saw how beat to shit he was and decided to finish the job. The gun at his side began to raise...then dropped back to his side as the form ahead of him registered.

"Seb, man..." he rasped out, "Fuckin' good to see you..."

[backslash]

Nothing could ever be easy.

All Sebastien wanted was a few minutes to collect himself. Apparently, he wasn't even allowed that.

Gabe. Gabe was his friend. His friend who had murdered his other friend.

And that woman had joked about it. Oh, Lucy wasn't careful, don't do what Lucy did. Like she'd been running with scissors instead of fighting for her life.

Fight she had, judging from Gabe's appearance. He looked hurt, exhausted, and all around like shit. Sebastien couldn't quite muster the sympathy such an appearance would normally get.

"Gabe." Sebastien's voice was little more than a croak. He hadn't noticed the lump in his throat until just now. Good to see me. Was it good to see Lucy too?

[Latin For Dragula]

Not exactly the reunion he'd imagined. Seb seemed hesitant, maybe even afraid. He could explain everything though. It'd be okay, if he could just drag himself forward and find the words.

That was proving easier said than done, though. He'd dragged himself all the way from the tower on fumes, and it felt like he didn't have anything left. The sword supported him as he sunk to his knees, blinking up at Seb with glazed over eyes.

"I'm real f-fucked up, man...that crazy bitch got me..."

[backslash]

Instinct was a funny thing. It left Sebastien torn between going to Gabe's side to help him up when he was clearly badly hurt, or just flattening himself against the side of the building and hoping that Gabe just kept that sword and gun to himself.

He considered calling for Ana or the others only briefly; the sight of their weapons would probably just provoke Gabe. So that left just him, alone and unarmed, with a killer.

Sebastien swallowed thickly when Gabe spoke again. "Lucy. You mean Lucy."

He took a step forward, hesitated, stopped again. Help him up, or just stand there and look? Instinct versus instinct.

"Why'd she fight you?"

Instinct, or reason? Lucy could be shallow and sneaky, but so could everyone. Gabe... they hadn't been friends long before it became apparent that Gabe had some personal issues to work through. It wasn't a secret that Gabe and Lucy disliked each other. Heaven knew that Sebastien had heard as much from both of them on separate occasions.

I can't take this.

"What happened with Lucy, Gabe? What did you do?"

[Latin For Dragula]

"What did I do?"

Stunning.

"What did I do?"

Nothing ever changes.

Gabe's face twisted into a snarl as he tried to push himself up with the sword. "I sat bleeding in a corner while that perra loca waved her goddamn sword in my face!"

Of all the people he thought would understand, Seb was the one he wanted to find most. The one who seemed to get him, who understood where he was coming from. But here he was, standing with a look just as damning as Lucy's.

Nothing ever changes.

"Don't do me like this, Seb. Don't take that fucking maniac's side."

[backslash]

Sebastien had messed up, if Gabe's reaction was any indication. But dammit, he was scared and he was hurting, and the least he deserved was an explanation.

All he needed was a reason. Something that made sense, and something that wasn't his friends slaughtering each other for the camera. Just one good reason, and he could get his thoughts straight, he was sure of it.

Gabe, nudging him in the side and trying to contain his laughter when their first aid instructor stumbled over a mannequin.

Lucy, doing those acrobatics that she did at football games, bright and vibrant and alive.

"You wanted to help people." Sebastien could barely force the words out. "You told me all about your plans, how you were going to be an EMT."

Gabe was armed and the look in his eyes was wild, but the words needed to be said. If Sebastien could get through to him, if Gabe could just listen, they could figures something out.

But first Gabe had to see that he was wrong.

"I thought-" Sebastien swallowed hard, forced himself to look Gabe in the eyes. "I thought that out of everyone, you at least would be smart enough not to hurt someone else."

[Latin For Dragula]

It was relentless. First Davis and Lucy tore him apart physically, and now Seb was tearing at him mentally. Emotionally. Throwing his dreams in his face, as if he asked for this, as if he wanted Lucy to die.

"You think I went looking for this," he barked back weakly, "like I wanted her to barge in and fuck me up?"

Disgust filled his eyes as he stared up the landing. "Look at my face!" he cried out, gesturing to his bandaged nose. "Look at what she did to me! Do you think I had a fucking choice?"

He wavered for a moment, the next words tasting of bile as the crawled up his throat.

"Or do you just wish it was her standing here instead of me?"

Everything was getting blurry, and his whole body was shaking. Exerting himself too much. He need to calm down, but he couldn't. If Seb wanted to accuse him, he'd throw it right back.

[backslash]

"Yeah, I do wish she was here!" Sebastien snapped. "I'm sorry that it's so unreasonable for me to want my friends to not kill each other!"

His breathing was ragged, as if he'd been running, or maybe as if he was about to cry. "God, I know you never liked each other, but you expect me to believe that she just came running at you out of nowhere!?"

He was getting too loud. Someone inside was going to hear. He wasn't getting through to Gabe. A million lightning-quick thoughts, barely registering in Sebastien's head before they were gone again.

"Did you even try anything else before fighting her? Did you stop to think at all about someone besides yourself?" Unreasonable. Sebastien was being unreasonable and he knew it, but so was Gabe, and so was Ana earlier and he was still frustrated from that. Ever since he woke up, he'd been frustrated and scared, and he couldn't take it. All he'd wanted to do was get his friends together so he could keep an eye on them, and he'd been too slow too many times already.

I can't take this I can't take this I can't take this

So he lashed out, reaching for whatever words he could think of that would sting the most. "Did you think about your mom, Gabe? Do you think she's proud of what you did!?"

[Latin For Dragula]

The gun swung up before Gabe even registered it, wobbling as he pointed it at Seb's chest.

This was stupid. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Seb was supposed to understand. Even if he didn't, how could he cross this line? Seb was unarmed. Innocent. Seb was his friend.

He didn't care.

"Shut it," he hissed up from his prone position, "Shut your goddamn fucking mouth." The trigger pressed against his finger. It was just begging to be pulled.

[backslash]

In truth, Sebastien regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. The gun being leveled in his direction just helped him regret them more.

"Look." He was shaking, from the cold and his hurt and rage and the force of his heart hammering in his chest. "Gabe, just... tell me what happened. Everything that happened. And put the gun down."

He took a step forward and reached out, intending to just push Gabe's hand down. "Just listen to me."

[Latin For Dragula]

"N-no!"

Panic gripped his heart as Seb reached for his gun. He was actually doing it. The bastard was really going to try and kill him.

"Get the fu-"

The sentence was swallowed up as the gun cracked, pointed aimlessly to the side. Gabe collapsed to the ground with the shot, ears roaring with the impact. His world felt like it was spinning, and he couldn't catch enough of his bearings to try and aim the gun again.

Instead, he thrust the sword up in front of him, just hoping to catch something, anything, or at least scare Seb off. He could feel his wounds bleeding again through the bandages, but he didn't care.

It all came down to surviving this moment.

[backslash]

Instinct, reason.

Everything came in flashes. The gun went off. He jumped back. A split-second realization, he hadn't been shot.

He turned again, intending to try and knock the gun away. Just listen to me. Please, god, just listen.

And then he was looking down Gabe's arm. Gabe was holding a sword. Lucy's sword, he'd said so. And the end of Lucy's sword was buried in Sebastien's side.

The world came together again, and his side was on fire, and Sebastien screamed.

"Shawn! Shawn!" And it was stupid, it was so stupid that he didn't yell for the ally that had the gun because goddamn it, he didn't want Ana's silly little mental kingdom to come crashing down because of him.

He fell more than jumped back this time and landed hard on his hip. Blood spattered the snow around him. Some part of him went on autopilot and he pressed his hand to his side - pressure on the wound, stem the bleeding, pressure on the wound, stem the bleeding - and the area under his hand was hot while the rest of him was so bitterly cold.

Left hand pressed to his side, flailing around with his right as if to drag himself away from Gabe. Their plans and his life and everything falling apart around him.

"Shawn!"

[Latin For Dragula]

Get up.

He'd hit something, alright. And nothing was hitting back. That was good. He still couldn't hear or see for shit, but it was something, it gave him space.

Get. Up.

His body wasn't moving though. At least, not how he wanted it too. He felt weak and sluggish. The bandages on his hand felt soaked, and he couldn't hold onto the sword anymore.

GET! UP!

He was screaming at himself even though he knew he wouldn't be moving. He had enough training to figure it out, but still stubbornly beat his fists against the walls of reality and screamed past his limits. He'd done it before. Every time he thought he had to quit, he found a little more strength inside of him.

Something came surging up from his chest, but it didn't encourage him to move any faster. A wracking, heaving cough jerked his head forward. Blood came with it.

Even the blur of his vision was vanishing now. The roaring in his ear eased into silence. The world was shutting down around him, and he didn't even have the strength to flip it off one last time.

Fuck...fuck...

______________________________________________________________________________

"Fuck!"

Every slam against the wheel brought a new, shrill blare from the horn. He had to get home. He had to make sure she didn't see.

Five minutes ago, Frank had been swaggering back to the break room to recruit any lazy dumbasses hiding from the ancient half-functioning wreck of a 2006 Civic someone had dragged in. As he walked in, he realized from the dim sounds that someone had tuned the TV into that godawful Survival of the Fittest shit.

"Hey! I told you pendejos I don't want this shit in my shop. You hard of hearing, or..."

His nephew was on the screen.

His nephew was dying on the screen.

So now he's grid-locked in traffic, beating on his horn and calling Anna, then Maria, over and over again. Pick up...goddammit, pick up the fucking phone!

A series of turns, phone calls, and streams of profanity found him here, outside of Anna's old apartment, two hours later. She'd never turned up at work today, hours ago. They said she called in sick. None of her friends knew where she was. She hadn't told Maria anything before she left that morning. He knew she'd be here, though.

What he didn't know was exactly what he'd find inside.

The door to her apartment was unlocked. There were no lights on, and other than the palpable, thick smell of alcohol, it was impossible to tell anyone had been inside recently. He crept in slowly, hoping to find her asleep and well, if soaked in wine.

A crack in the bedroom door let out a soft glow. Through it, he could see tussled sheets, and a phone lying on the bed. It was streaming something. He didn't have to guess what.

"Anna?"

She wasn't in the bed. Maybe she was on the floor, or in the bathroom attached to the bedroom. He slowly pushed the door open...

And next to the closet, in the soft light of her blaring phone, his sister's distended face peered back at him, swaying back and forth from the gentle breeze of the cracked window.

GABRIEL AND ANNA MUNEZ: DECEASED

[backslash]

Everything was too fast or too slow, and Sebastien couldn't tell which. He couldn't get to his feet, between the pain and fear and the blood dripping between his fingers, so he was left scrambling in the snow and just trying to get up before Gabe did. His friend was gone, and Sebastien had no doubt now that he'd be going the same way Lucy had if Gabe got up before he got to safety.

The doors were right there. Right there, and Ana, Shawn, and Jackson just beyond. It had only been a few seconds, a minute or so at the most since he'd yelled. Sebastien managed to heave himself mostly upright onto his knees. No sword in his back yet.

He collided with the door shoulder-first and remembered belatedly that they opened out, not in. He couldn't get up. He was sobbing now, and his eyes were stinging, and god if it wasn't the most pathetic thing, and this is how he was going to die. A coward who started fights and then ran screaming when someone lashed out.

How long had it been now since he'd yelled for Shawn? Two minutes? With effort, Sebastien turned from the door, his hand leaving a bloody smear across the glass. He fully expected to see Gabe standing over him, ready to deal the finishing blow.

Except Gabe hadn't moved.

And he continued not moving.

Sebastien stared at Gabe's prone form until he understood, and then he screamed again and didn't stop until all that came out of his mouth was a pained, ragged wheeze.