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gunsightfic-blog · 13 years ago

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Chapter 13: Protecting Both Your Heart And Mine

It was easy to kill people.

Blood loss from a knife plunged somewhere in the abdomen or the chest. Suffocation through strangulation, crushing the ribs, breaking the nose and jaw. Or—easier, so much easier—a bullet through the heart, lungs, brain, neck. Lacking a knife or a gun—a simple snap of the neck would suffice.

Logan tried not to think of it as he glanced down at the broken body at his feet—the last of the two men Clavell had brought with him—but the dark thoughts wouldn't leave his mind, would probably never leave his mind for the rest of his life. Death was natural for him, belonged to him, forever following the beat of his heart and the whoosh of his lungs. He nudged the man with his foot, and the man's neck—twisted at an unnatural angle—made a nauseating sound when it moved sideways. Logan sighed, massaging his sprained wrist in an attempt to dull the pain caused by a well-aimed kick.

Death was ridiculously easy, and it had been easy for years.

There was only one thing that made Logan feel uneasy about it, only one person who would have that kind of influence on his being. The sepia eyes widening in shock when he'd told about the death of the first man, the look of shock and reluctant judgment in them—it made an uncomfortably warm shame rise up. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in years, and especially not for the one thing he was actually good at.

Logan snorted derisively, hating himself for having forgotten his medication.

...damn feelings.

He tried to ignore the mess in his mind—this utter chaos he wasn't familiar with because the meds had always created a strict order and tranquility—and scooped down to pick up the dead man's gun. The icy metal felt solid and familiar in his hands, confirming the confidence he had in his skills and experience. A fleeting thought ran through his head—launched off by bittersweet memories of bottomless brown eyes, a catty smirk, rich laughter—and the tighter his hands clutched the weapon, the more Logan wondered how his life had turned out like this... and more than ever he wished he could simply stop it all.

The detached calculating.

The fighting.

The killing.

The cold-blooded murdering.

His hands trembled when the memories came, but when Logan noticed his own distress, he desperately tried to chase away those traitorous thoughts that caught him so off guard. He'd save them for later and if there wouldn't be a later, he wasn't about to worry over these useless thoughts now.

"Two down, one to go," he breathed, the gun in his hands raised and ready to fire as he stalked forward.

The urge to see Julian struck him like lightening—sudden, vicious, blinding him. He needed to hold the brunet in his arms, bury his nose in brown hair, soak up Julian's comforting fragrance. Not a want, but a need. As quietly as possible, Logan started running, his entire body yearning to be with Julian—to protect the ludicrously defenseless actor. When he reached the hideout, Logan skidded to a halt, body frozen as his wide eyes took in the scene.

Confusion, realization, dread, rage—they followed each other so rapidly, it took a few seconds for Logan to react accordingly. When it had finally sunk in that the hideout was empty and that Julian was gone—his Julian, someone he should've protected—the emotions blasted through him anew. He choked on his breath, his heart plummeting until it landed somewhere far below the hay and the cement under his feet—forever lost from sight. A crushing terror crashed through him.

"No—" he hissed, wheeling around on his heels and desperately taking in the scene. His practiced eyes penetrated the darkness and instantly made out the telltale signs of a struggle—the messed up hay, the prints of filthy footsteps, and, most importantly, Julian's gun on the floor.

The familiar anger—that horrible, awful emotion that demolished his concentration and could only be driven out by destructive medicine—flared up viciously and created a sheen of red in front of his eyes. He could feel the fury pump through his body, and stolen memories from another lifetime flashed through his mind—school uniforms, bickering, snapping, and so much anger. He scrunched his eyes shut, furiously kicking up the hay in the air, all caution to be as silent as possible forgotten.

When he opened his eyes they were glinting with a thousand death threats, and a feral snarl escaped his lips.

"No!"

A faint chuckle crept through the abandoned building, sending cold shivers down Logan's spine when he recognized it. He spun around, trying to track down the source of the laughter, livid when he couldn't find it.

"Clavell—I'm going to kill you! Where is Julian?" Logan roared, his sharp gaze flickering from shadow to shadow, from corner to corner. In a rush fueled by pure, unadulterated fear and fury, he snatched Julian's gun from the floor and pointed it to the ceiling, shooting at the filthy windows without hesitation. The bullets destroyed the glass instantly, the sunlight reflecting in them as the glimmering pieces rained down onto the floor and into the hay. The bright light from outside—a world so sunny and light it seemed horribly unreal—poured into the building, chasing away the shadows and merrily bouncing off the golden hay.

Logan heard a curse when the darkness made place for light, and hay shuffled around as if it was shoved aside by rushed feet. The cunning sniper smirked darkly at this tiny victory. Julian's gun—empty after all the windows had been shattered—slipped from his fingers and dropped on the ground, the hay covering it like it had never even been there. He took a few cautious steps forward, trying to decide where to go now.

You're dead, Clavell. Dead.

Killing was easy after all.

All the while, ever since he'd discovered the empty hideout and the frightening absence of the actor, terrifying images had crossed his mind. Julian screaming, Julian hurting, Julian in the hands of Clavell... vicious, murderous, merciless Clavell...

It hurt.

God—it hurt to think about it.

Logan tried to clear his mind, tried to focus on what he had to do right now. He breathed in. Out. Very slow, trembling breaths that didn't calm him in the slightest, only managed to dull his desperation. Like a flickering candle in the wind, struggling to maintain its flame, only to flare up again once the breeze finally dies down. The thing that did make him push away the painful images were almost inaudible noises, definitely created by Clavell. They seemed to come from above and Logan frowned, carefully moving from his spot to get a clearer view of his surroundings.

Now that the dirty windows were broken and there was finally light, Logan could see a decayed staircase leading up to an unstable-looking attic. His eyes followed the wooden steps—hollowed out by termites and time—until they focused on the shadows of the attic. Outside a cloud shifted away and a beam of sunlight streamed into the building, tirelessly filtering through the darkness of the attic and revealing the scene up there.

Logan's heart leaped as fresh dread flooded him.

On the attic, right above the stairs and staring menacingly down at him, was Clavell, his arms encircled around Julian in a protective manner.

Logan exhaled sharply. "Julian."

At the sound of his name, Julian looked up from where he he'd been struggling against Clavell's hold. He opened his mouth to say something, but the man behind him shook his head and tugged him closer to his chest. A gun appeared from Clavell's belt and he held it to Julian's temple, making the actor cringe away.

It was a reflex. At the sight of the gun Logan raised his own weapon, his eyes narrowing as he automatically started to determine what the perfect spot would be to place his bullet. His finger was already curled around the trigger, his feet firmly planted on the floor.

He never missed.

And there it was. A clear shot. Right under Clavell's arm and next to Julian's neck, a tiny but wholly exposed place he could land his bullet in.

He never missed.

The finger around the trigger trembled and pulled it a miniscule bit, just a hair apart from actually firing the gun.

Logan could've shot right through Clavell's heart and he would've killed him, he would not have missed... but a small flicker of his eyes—just a brief glance in Julian's direction—made him hesitate. Julian's neck—his bare, vulnerable neck—was less than an inch away from Clavell's heart. The actor was staring at him with wide, brown eyes—and Logan's finger wavered over the trigger, loosened its hold.

He couldn't shoot.

Not with Julian so close and unprotected.

He couldn't.

The realization made cold tendrils of fear sneak through his veins. He'd never held back with such an opportunity, and the fact that his concern for Julian's safety prevented him from pulling the trigger scared him more than he'd like to admit. It made him vulnerable. And if there was anything he hated more than his broken memories, it was the feeling of being vulnerable.

Clavell smirked, a filthy grin that made his eyes flash madly. He probably knew that Logan wouldn't try to shoot, but the madman still moved Julian in front of his chest, making sure all of his vital parts were covered.

Logan pressed his lips together in sour disappointment and he lowered his gun a few inches.

When Julian noticed Logan's expression, he started struggling again, trying to break free from Clavell's arms. The gun pressed harder against his temple, the metal feeling icy cold on his skin, and he bit his lip in fear, his nails digging in Clavell's arms.

Logan was studying them carefully, his gaze indecipherable, his face taut and calculating. His gun was still raised, his arms unwavering as they held it up.

"Don't move, honey, or I'll shoot your lover," Clavell whispered in Julian's ear, his breath brushing over his cheek, the last word pronounced as if it was a contagious disease. Clavell pushed Julian away and with his free hand he pulled a second gun, raising it to aim at Logan. "I will shoot him," he breathed hoarsely, one gun still carefully following the actor.

Julian stumbled back, his eyes wide as they stared from the guns to Logan. Clavell merely grinned wider, his crazed eyes flickering in a wildly elated madness as they met Logan's ferocious green glare.

"Let him go, Clavell," Logan warned with a low, dangerous voice. It was obvious he was having trouble controlling his anger, and Julian felt a sharp pang, memories of Logan's temper in high school flashing through his thoughts. "Let him go, or I'll swear to god I'll shoot your pathetic little head off."

Clavell shook his head and cocked the gun he'd been pointing to the stunned actor, smiling at Logan's outraged shout. Julian's breath hitched, his unblinking stare frozen on the weapon. His back bumped against the wooden wall behind him when he took another step back. At the soft thud, Clavell turned around a bit, looking at the actor apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Julian. I don't want to hurt you—"

"You don't—" Julian's mouth was as dry as sandpaper and he swallowed, licking his lips as he forced his gaze away from the menacing weapon. "You don't want to hurt me...?" he asked hoarsely, tone dripping with disbelief. "You—you hired an assassin to kill me—but you don't want to hurt me? Do you think I'm fucking stupid, Adam?" he rasped. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

Clavell stared at him and had just opened his mouth to reply when there was a harsh click from downstairs. Clavell immediately recognized the sound and he whirled around, aiming both his guns to Julian. His expression was livid when he glowered to the blond downstairs, who was standing there with a cocked gun and a determined expression.

"Don't you even fucking dare, Wright!" he hissed. "You know how fucking quick a gun can fire, and you may be the best sniper the US have ever seen—but you know me, and you know how fastI can fire a gun! Idie, he dies! That's what's going to happen—that's how it's supposed to be—I die, he dies—" he was breathing heavily, his mind completely lost to the allure of the darkest kind of desire and lust. "I die, he dies—" he repeated.

Logan stayed absolutely silent, his eyes narrowed to angry slits as he glanced from Clavell to Julian. Despite his defiant attitude and the absolutely ferocious glint in his eyes, Logan looked desperate and so utterly forlorn, it broke Julian's heart in a million pieces.

"Logan, please—" Julian started, but his voice betrayed him—cracking and breaking off—and he tried to convey the rest of his sentence with his eyes. Go away, turn around and go away. Be safe.

Clavell made an annoyed sound at the back of his throat and he moved one of his guns to aim at Logan again. "It's always Logan, isn't it?" he whispered darkly.

Julian looked from Logan to Clavell, his confusion obvious.

"It's always been Logan, hasn't it?" Clavell continued, his voice growing in strength and in danger. His gaze flickered to Julian and he narrowed his eyes, demanding a confirmation. "Hasn't it?"

Julian almost jumped at the viciousness in his tone and he nodded shakily. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes," Julian looked down and met Logan's startled stare—his green eyes full of questions, confusion and horror—and he closed his eyes for a moment. His voice was hoarse when he repeated, "It has."

Clavell chuckled bitterly and his hands trembled, the guns wavering through the air insecurely. Julian saw Logan's eyes flicker at the sign of weakness, his hands tightening around his own gun. Clavell controlled himself quickly though, his weapons stilled in the air, frozen like statues. "I knew it from the moment I saw the letters," he bit. "I knew it."

The little bit of color left in Julian's face flooded away, his eyes glued to the deranged fanboy. He didn't dare to look at Logan. "You—you saw the letters...?"

Logan frowned, his gaze shooting from Clavell to Julian. Julian noticed his finger tapping the trigger in aggravation and when he wondered why Logan wouldn't just shoot already, he figured out the answer to that instantly. It was him. Logan wasn't shooting because of him. Julian realized friend-Logan and sniper-Logan were two entirely different identities and at this moment, in this situation, Logan had chosen to adopt the first one. It made Julian feel even worse.

"What letters?" Logan inquired, his voice hoarse and impatient.

Julian looked away from him, fixing his intense and scared stare on Clavell instead.

"What letters?" Logan pressed. "What the hell are you talking about, Clavell?"

Clavell barked out a grim, humorless laugh and stalked towards Julian. The actor tried to back away, but the wall behind him left him no way to go. He groaned when Clavell put his arms around him again, the cold metal of the gun back to his temple. A sharp click filled the air when Clavell cocked the weapon. Julian whimpered, closed his eyes, and prayed to whatever god was listening that this was all just one huge, terrifying nightmare.

This couldn't possibly be real, right?

Logan yelled in protest when Clavell touched Julian—throwing scathing insults his way instead of the deadly bullets he was itching to fire. "Get your fucking filthy claws off of—" His finger curled around the trigger—too hard in his absolute fury—and a violent, explosive noise ripped the air in a thousand ugly pieces. His bullet missed Clavell and Julian by several inches and drilled harmlessly into the wooden wall behind them, leaving irregular cracks and a black hole behind.

"Fucking jesus—" Clavell staggered back in surprise—nearly choking a shell-shocked Julian—and shot back in a reflex. His bullet wasn't aimed either, shot in pure defense—but it made a horrifying, muted sound when it sank in Logan's leg. Julian shouted out in fear when Logan yelled and gritted his teeth in pain, green eyes blazing in a white-hot loathing and rage when they glared up to Clavell.

"Logan!" Julian was hysterical, staring at Logan's bleeding leg with huge, incredulous eyes.

"They were letters for you!" Clavell shouted above the noise, the smoke from his gun slowly dissolving in the air, his laughter mental and carefree like nothing had just happened. "They were all letters for you! Because—because—" his laughter died down and he tilted his head, resting his cheek on Julian's hair, "he's loved you since high school," he finished in a whisper.

Logan's wounded leg hurt like hell and he was having trouble standing on it, making him stumble a bit. The pain was not important right now, though. All he could feel was a complete astonishment when he stared at Julian, his entire concentration fixed on the actor. Julian stared back at him in fear and worry, his eyes flickering from Logan's face to his bleeding wound.

"You... what?"

Julian's concerned expression turned into one of horror, his face a sickly sheen of white. "I—" Logan's inquisitive gaze was too penetrating, too vivid—and Julian squeezed his eyes shut to escape the green eyes he'd been dreaming of since he was 14. He didn't dare to answer Logan's question, pleading for his safety instead.

"Let him leave, Adam, he's hurt. This is between you and m—"

"No, no, no—" Clavell cried out, crushing Julian against his chest and ignoring the actor's gasp for breath. "The story gets even better! The letters were all unsent of course, but maybe that was for the best—" his gaze wandered to Logan, and all traces of his fake humor disappeared. There was a vile smirk on his face when he eyed the bleeding wound in the sniper's leg. "I was able to find out what miserable being had gained Julian's love, and I was able to track him down—to track you down. The best part of it all—the part I'd never ever expected—was when I discovered what you did for a living, " Clavell's eyes took on a dreamy look and the smile on his face was creepy, fake. "Wouldn't that have been ironic? The boy Julian Larson has been pining after foryears... the boy Julian Larson loves—even after years apart... wouldn't it be ironic if that boy had killed him? Wouldn't that... that would've been something..."

From downstairs, separated by a broken staircase and the menacing presence of three guns, Logan was staring at Clavell in pure disgust. His heart was racing, the pain in his leg was excruciating, and a burning shock rushed through his body. He looked at Julian with huge eyes—so many regrets and apologies glistening in them they seemed to hold a thousand suns. All the moments he'd ever thought about shooting Julian—about killing Julian—wrecked through his mind, striking him like the waves of the ocean crashing against the rocks of the shore.

Julian loved him.

Julian had loved him...

And for a moment... for a short moment Logan wondered if he'd known back then... if he'd seen the passionate glint in Julian's expressive eyes whenever he talked about acting, if he'd noticed the way his hands gestured wildly in the air whenever he was excited, or how his full lips curved in a sarcastic sneer whenever he was annoyed. He wondered if he'd loved Julian back.

If he hadn't lost his memories... would they've been together now...?

He wished he could remember.

Julian had loved him.

...would Julian still love him?

Logan's eyes flickered when he thought of the darker memories, of him trying to kill the actor several times. The actor who'd loved him. Probably the only person in the world who'd ever truly loved him... and Logan had tried to murder him.

He glanced up and stared right into Julian's worried eyes. Julian was leaning away from Clavell and towards the blond, looking like he would've jumped from the attic if it wouldn't be for Clavell's arms holding him back. Logan stayed scarily silent, his expression absolutely devastated as his green gaze searched sepia. Julian's eyes were brimming with tears and it seemed like he knew exactly what went on in Logan's head. The actor shook his head, his expression apologizing and forgiving at the same time, as if to say "it's okay, don't think about it—please, please, please don't think about it."

Logan's gun pointed towards the floor, completely forgotten in the onslaught of emotions. "You're sick—" he croaked, his burning gaze shifting to the madman responsible for all of this. "You're completely mental—"

Clavell smirked. "You nearly succeeded, though. You nearly killed him," he whispered. "It's such a shame you failed to carry out your job. Now I have to do it all by myself... but maybe it's better this way," he breathed, gently tracing a pinkie over Julian's cheek. Julian winced and he turned his head away from Clavell's hand, his eyes holding a torturous fear in them as they locked with Logan's. Logan froze, the shattering self-loathing like fire in his veins.

What had he done?

"Logan, don't think—" Julian rasped, but Clavell pressed his arm against his mouth and brought the gun closer to his head, effectively silencing him.

"Not now, sweet thing," Clavell murmured. "I wasn't finished yet, there's just one more thing you need to know—" His mad gaze flashed back to Logan and he smiled sweetly. "There were a few obstacles, of course. Obstacles that had to be removed if I wanted to come closer to Julian."

Logan frowned and he saw the same confusion reflected in Julian's eyes.

Now what? What obstacles?

Clavell smile widened and he looked at Julian lovingly. "The magazines were talking about you dating Marcie Lillian," he whispered roughly. "That brat Marcie, who doesn't deserve your beauty and your stunning, priceless personality. She doesn't understand you the way I do, Julian. So... we had to get rid of her," he glanced at Logan, who paled when realization hit him mercilessly. "Or rather... I arranged someone to get rid of her."

Logan's heart dropped when he saw Julian's entire demeanor change. The actor's eyes widened—dark, huge, and drowning in hurt—and flickered to Logan, staring at him in utter astonishment. Logan stared back silently, his expression betraying innumerable regrets.

What was he supposed to do? There was nothing to say. Marcie had been Julian's friend and he'd murdered her. One simple shot. Assassinated her without batting an eye.

Julian struggled to escape the arms around him and when Clavell's hand slipped from his mouth, his voice was impossibly sad when he asked, "You killed Marcie?"

A suffocating feeling of fear and incredulity surged up in the sniper, and he wanted to scream "no", to yell and plea—he wanted to deny it all. But something in the shocked and sad gaze of Julian told him it wouldn't work, told him it was all out in the open now, told him he would lose the actor regardless how this day would end.

Clavell let Julian go and the actor stumbled over the wooden floor, not paying attention to the fact that Clavell had one of his guns aimed at him. Julian's eyes flickered to Logan's hurt leg—where the blood was oozing from the wound and trickling down languidly—and pressed his lips together, obviously trying to hold back his accusations.

"I didn't know, Jules," Logan mumbled softly. "I didn't know, I promise."

Julian shook his head, his incredulous stare still glued to Logan's wounded leg—the only thing in the world that prevented him from screaming his lungs out and upsetting the sniper further. The kiss—that beautiful, gorgeous kiss he'd been dreaming about for years—felt filthy now, a betrayal to his cast-mate and friend, and Julian felt sick when he thought about it.

Nobody said a word for a few seconds, and the only sound splintering the silence was Logan's ragged breathing, his hurt leg screeching in pain.

"Just get this over with," Julian finally whispered.

Clavell's eyes widened in surprise. His smile was sincerely gleeful when he wheeled around to stare at Julian. "I agree," he replied passionately. Julian stared back at him—all his anger gone, replaced by a strangely empty, melancholic feeling.

Logan cursed and protested through gritted teeth. "No! No, Julian, don't you give up—"

Julian turned around. "What am I supposed to do, Logan?" The desperation radiated from his voice and expression, and it pierced through Logan's heart. "What do you want to do? He's going to kill me anyway, let's just get this fucking over with."

"No!"

"And you have to go away," Julian pleaded. "Logan, leave—please."

"No!" Logan snapped. "I'm not going to lose you, Julian! I'm not going to fucking lose you like that!"

Julian raised his eyes to the ceiling in a silent prayer, pressing his lips together to choke back a sob. Logan wanted to say more, but Clavell cocked both his guns, effectively gaining back all the attention. His eyes were wide and sparkling, and he was staring at Julian like he was the last, most precious thing on the world. For him, he probably was.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, moving closer to the actor. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Julian shook his head, shivering when he felt Clavell's breath ghost over his face. "But you did," he rasped quietly. "And you still are."

"It will be over soon. You'll be happy, I promise." Clavell looked at Julian, his eyes betraying so much trust, so much faith, and so much love—it hurt to look at.

Julian sobbed and turned away, his eyes falling on Logan, who had raised his gun again and was looking back with a ferocious look in his devastating green gaze.

"Don't do this, Clavell," the sniper warned menacingly. His intentions were clear even though he didn't voice them: as soon as Clavell pulled that trigger, he was going to pull his. They both knew it, but only one really cared about it. "Don't you fucking dare—"

Clavell turned to him, irritated and furious all of a sudden. "What would you know about love?" he spat hatefully. "You've never been loved, you've never even loved! Not the way I love Julian, not the way we love each other—you don't know anything!"

"Logan, just go away—"

"Julian, shut up!" Logan snapped. "Clavell—step away, don't you fucking touch him," he hissed, both his hands trembling as he gripped his gun tighter. His finger curled around the trigger, ready to shoot at any moment. "Please. Adam—" It was the first time in his life he called Clavell by his first name, but the madman didn't seem to listen to him.

"No," Clavell snarled. "No—you're not going to ruin it! Not again—you're not going to ruin this!"

Julian watched with wide eyes as Clavell's hands tensed around both his guns—one aimed at Julian, the other at Logan—and the actor was moving even before he yelled—a horrible, terrifying scream that ripped from his lips, but didn't register in his mind.

The three gunshots cracked through the air simultaneously— the noise as thunderous and terrifying as in the most devastating hurricane—rocking the building and making time stand still.

For a split second nothing seemed to happen, except for the last echoes of the gunshots slowly dying out until there was nothing but an eerie silence left.

Logan struggled for breath, his chest hurting as his heart dropped, his eyes widening as he stared at the attic. The scene playing out there seemed to be in slow-motion, giving Logan the false idea that he'd be able to change the script in time, when in reality there was nothing he could do. His gun clattered to the ground and as soon as he gained back the feeling in his numb limbs, he started running—an earsplitting, horrifying scream tearing from his throat.

"No!"

A devastating fear surged through his body, overshadowing the tormenting pain in his leg, but making him almost trip and fall onto the floor.

"NO!"

Julian spluttered and stumbled on his feet, his hands feebly grasping the fabric of his shirt, searching for something to hold onto. He watched in horror as Adam sank on his knees, blood pouring from the wound in his throat, where Logan's bullet had struck. Red liquid seeped from Adam's mouth and nose and the he looked up slowly, his bloody smile tender and only meant for Julian. Then he fell backwards, his eyes closing and his breath freezing even before he hit the floor. Julian coughed when he gasped for air, doubling over in shock. He tried to breathe but he choked, and when he looked down at his hands and saw the bright red blood—his bright red blood—only then did he feel the scorching, white-hot pain sear through his body. He whimpered in panic, his eyes fluttering close as he stumbled backwards. He was vaguely aware of someone screaming his name, and somewhere in his mind he recognized the voice and the warm feelings it brought with it.

"Julian! Julian—no—! JULIAN!"

Julian groaned in pain, his fingers clutching his soaked shirt in a vain attempt to make breathing easier. But it was like he'd fallen in the ocean and he was trying to breathe in the violent waves, the salty water filling his throat and creating a burning pain within. He wavered, lost his balance, and then the floor underneath his feet disappeared.

The world stood still as Julian collapsed and crashed noisily from the stairs, his body surrendered to the gravity and the hard, sharp wood of the steps. Logan went absolutely frantic when he saw Julian fall, screaming and yelling as he forced his legs to move faster.

He was too late.

Way, way too late.

"Julian!"

The horrifying sounds of cracking bones and shattering wood splintered the air, knocking the breath out of Logan's lungs. It seemed to take ages, but in reality it was only a few seconds before Julian finally reached the end of the stairs and stopped falling. He lay splayed out like a broken doll, one leg still resting on the bottom step, his eyes dazed and half open, already catching glimpses of another world.

The sounds followed Julian's example and when the actor remained unmoving, the noise died down, too. A deadly silence stretched out, the suffocating tension almost tangible in the air.

The one who broke the quiet was the only one able to.

"No—"

Logan dropped to his knees, tears streaking his cheeks when he saw Julian's bloodied face and worse—much, much worse—the wound in his chest that never stopped leaking blood. He leaned forward and carefully touched the actor's face, trying to smile when Julian's pained, unfocused eyes flickered to his own.

"Hey," Logan soothed, his eyes a wild storm as he forced to keep his expression as calm as possible. He hastily pulled out his sweater and pressed it on the wound, but it barely stopped the blood from streaming out and forming a pool underneath Julian's body. He nearly gagged when the red liquid poured through his fingers, but he tried to keep it together for Julian's sake—even when everything inside of him broke into a thousand pieces.

Take my blood.

Please, take my blood.

Julian wheezed for breath and one of his hands came up weakly, his fingers hooking around Logan's sleeve listlessly. The sniper closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them he met Julian's terrified ones. He was pressing so hard on the wound, Logan could feel the irregular beating of Julian's heart vibrate through his ribs. The beats were slower than they were supposed to be.

Take my heart.

Logan shifted a little, impossibly gentle when he moved closer to hold Julian in his arms. One of his hands was still firmly pressing down on the wound, but both boys knew it was futile.

"Jules..."

Julian tried to say something, but when his cracked lips moved, blood welled up from his throat and he choked on it. His entire body quivered when a painful coughing fit wrecked through him, his chest struggling for breath but clearly losing the fight.

Logan's own breath hitched in fear.

Please, please, please... take my heart.

"Julian?" Logan breathed, his voice trembling. "Hey... hey—don't talk okay? I'm—I'm going to—" he didn't finish his sentence, instead frantically patting his pockets with one bloodied hand, desperately searching for his phone so he could call for help.

There was nothing in his pockets, though.

"What the fuck—" When he briefly met Julian's gaze, he became aware of the horrifying realization he must've lost his phone somewhere in the fight. The actor was staring up at him silently, his eyes glassy and his breaths uneven and shallow.

"Jules, do you still have your phone—?" Logan whispered, and while he started searching through Julian's pockets he realized the actor was wearing his clothes, and the actor's phone was probably lying forgotten in his own jeans. All the way back at the sniper's home.

"No," Logan whispered. "No, no, no—"

This wasn't supposed to happen.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"...help."

Logan's eyes widened when that one word left his lips.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd called for help. He never needed help, never even wanted it, his pride too important to accept it. But now, with Julian lying as a broken porcelain doll in his arms—white and still, yet so utterly beautiful it hurt—he didn't feel the slightest bit ashamed. All the dignity in the world wouldn't help them now. A soft moan of distress left his lips, and he took a deep breath.

"Help!"

His voice was raw and soaked with agony, his scream cutting through the building and rising all the way up to the broken windows and into the outside world. His cry seemed to intermingle with the clouds and disappear instantly.

"Help! Please, help!" Logan yelled again, but when there was no answer and when the air around him kept as silent as ever, he squeezed his eyes shut and doubled over, letting his forehead rest against Julian's. "Please..."

The actor's breathing was ragged and uneven, his skin an unhealthy color of white. Logan was no doctor and no nurse, and he knew nothing about these kind of things—but even he knew Julian was in a bad shape. A very, very bad shape.

And there was absolutely nothing he could do.

Logan jumped when a wailing sound pierced the air—still far away, but just loud enough to reach his ears. His eyes widened and he was almost afraid to feel hopeful as he turned towards the door to listen more carefully. When the sound moved closer and grew in volume, the relief he felt was like an icy waterfall crashing down on him.

Ambulances.

That sound was definitely from ambulances.

At that moment he didn't wonder what the ambulances were doing here and he didn't care either, but he was certain—without a second's doubt—that they were coming for them, that they were coming for Julian.

The actor seemed to hear them too, and he turned his head the tiniest bit towards the doors. Logan's arms trembled and Julian's gaze wandered to the sniper's, his lips slowly curling up in a gentle smile. Logan didn't smile back, but he reached out to caress Julian's cheek, whispering words of encouragement.

"Hang on there, Jules. They're going to be here soon, you're going to be fine—"

Julian nodded—his chin dropping a fraction of an inch—and he tried to keep his eyes on Logan, who was looking at him with all the hope of the world. He really tried to hold his focus—really, really tried, because he wanted to look into those green eyes forever—but after a few seconds of silent struggle, Julian lost his concentration. His eyes rolled back when they closed, his head lulled to the side, his breath shallow and barely audible.

Hope wasn't supposed to just disappear like that. Hope was supposed to carry out its blessed job and make everything alright again.

Logan shook Julian, scared to hurt him, but absolutely terrified to lose him. He shook harder, his fear threatening to swallow him and pull him under.

"No, no—wait—what are you doing—no, don't—Julian—"

With tears blurring his vision, Logan pressed Julian closer to his chest, murmuring desperate pleas in his hair. His tears trickled down from his chin and landed on Julian's cheeks, making it seem like the actor was crying too. It looked strange and wrong, another imperfection on Julian's bruised face.

"Don't you fucking do this, Jules," Logan growled. He wished fate was an actual human being, just so he could hurt it as much as it had hurt them. "Why do you always have to be so stubborn—Julian, don't do this—" The sirens of the ambulances got louder and Logan repressed a sob, his arms around Julian and his head resting on dark hair.

And while the ambulances were racing towards them and Julian's condition worsened rapidly, Logan started muttering encouragements, his eyes closed and his lips moving around the same words over and over again.

"Jules, you're going to be alright, you're going to be alright. Trust me. Trust me. You're going to be alright, you have to be alright—"

Eventually, after a few minutes in which the sirens grew stronger—the exact opposite of Julian's waning strength—Logan's pleas cracked, hesitated, and he stumbled on the words until the sobs stole his voice entirely.

Julian's eyes were closed and his face was a frightening hue of white, forming a stark contrast with the dark color of his hair—so soaked and drenched with blood and mud, it seemed almost black. His face rested against Logan's chest, his lips slightly parted to let ragged, painful-sounding gasps pass. He seemed almost comfortable in Logan's embrace, except that he was too still and too unmoving to be sleeping.

"Come on, Jules," Logan whispered softly, his plea painful and drowned out by the sirens. There was no reaction. Julian stayed silent, his eyes were closed, and he was so heavy in his arms...

A/N: In a way… Adam's plan really did work out well, didn't it? Adam shot Julian and Logan shot Adam—and Logan's left behind with a completely shattered heart. For all Adam knows, Julian and he are both dead and both will go to that happy place and they will have that incredibly happily ever after of which he's always dreamed. I imagine Adam's beyond elated that his plan worked out the way it did.

Anyway. Thank you for reading :)

See you next time—where you'll find out who's still breathing and who'll stay silent forever.

#gunsightfic #daltonfic #jogan #last one for now #cause this is where i left you #hah i love cliffhangers

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gunsightfic-blog · 13 years ago

Text

Chapter 12: Are You Strong Enough To Stand?

The windows lining the walls were covered in filth and mud, making them impenetrable to light and throwing the building into a pitch black darkness. Hidden behind bales of hay, and in the corner furthest from the doors, Logan was holding Julian close to his chest. His green eyes were shut, his chin resting on top of dark and messy hair, his brow furrowed in grief. He shifted a bit, his hand slowly stroking over Julian's back, his fingers delicately following his spine.

The wound in his arm was stinging painfully, the red seeping down his arm and staining his shirt—but the blood loss and the pain weren't of much importance to Logan. It was nothing compared to the pounding, stabbing knifes in his heart. Absolutely nothing compared to the dark emotions that flowed from his chest all throughout his body, thrashing like a hurricane as they broke everything they touched. Regret, self-loathing and a guilt so fierce it ate him alive left him feeling numb and useless—and it only contributed further to his self-hatred.

He hated himself for everything that had happened.

He hated himself for what he'd done.

And he hated himself for the simple fact that he would never be able to fix it all.

When Logan opened his eyes and looked down at the boy in his arms—that wonderful boy who'd turned his heart and life upside down—he realized that he'd never forgive himself if something were to happen to him. He swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut like he used to do when he wanted all the bad things to go away.

Julian was lying completely frozen in Logan's arms, his cheek pressed in the sniper's shirt, his eyes wide open as he stubbornly concentrated on the steady beating of Logan's heart. His sobs had died down a long time ago, but his cheeks were still wet and his throat was raw from the hysterical crying. Every breath hurt, piercing through his heart, twisting and churning his stomach with every inhalation.

It was all his fault.

If he'd reached out for help earlier—if he'd done something earlier—if he'd... if he hadn't... if he hadn't been the stupid asshole he had sworn to never be again...

Julian clenched his jaw as he tried to keep down the sobs that were building in his throat.

He should've gotten hurt. He should've jumped from that closet and he should've stopped it all right then and there. He should've faced the vicious weaponry of Adam and his men. Him. Not Derek.

...never Derek.

Julian's concentration broke and the regular whoosh of Logan's heartbeats vanished into nothing as his face contorted in a mask of utter hurt and the sobs tore from his throat. He turned around, grabbed onto Logan's shirt and buried his face in the blond's chest.

Logan's eyes stayed closed and his expression didn't betray his emotions, but he pulled Julian closer and nuzzled his nose in brown locks. His breath was hot and trembling as he murmured soothing words, words that didn't even make sense to him, but it was all he could do to keep Julian from breaking down again.

"I'm so sorry," he choked quietly, his heart stuttering when he felt Julian scoot even closer. "I'm so, so, so sorry. This would've never—never, never—happened if I hadn't—if I—" he clenched his jaw, the bright green of his eyes lighting up in the dark as they fluttered open. "It's all my fault."

"It's not," Julian whispered, his broken voice sounding even worse in the dark than his horrifying sobs had. "Stop saying it's your fault. Because it's not. It's just—" he hesitated for a moment, choking on his words as if he was searching for someone—something—to blame, but he fell silent and Logan's heart dropped.

"I'm so sorry."

Julian didn't say anything, just shook his head and pushed away from Logan's chest, breathing heavily while he forced the panic and grief to a darker place in his mind. This was not the time nor the place to break down—he wouldn't be the one to put them in danger again.

Logan stared at Julian, silently admiring his sudden ferociousness, rumpled only slightly by the tear-stained cheeks and the wetness brimming in his eyes. He should probably stop touching Julian—someone who was clearly way too good for him, someone who didn't deserve to be ruined by him—but he dismissed the thought quickly and kept his hands safely on Julian's lower back.

Julian stared at Logan and pursed his lips, scrutinizing the sniper carefully. When he finally spoke, it was with a determined voice that shook only a tiny bit, his attitude one befitting of a Hollywood celebrity.

"Stop saying you're sorry," Julian's expression was blazing, made even more fierce by his glistening eyes and hoarse voice. His chin trembled when he talked, betraying the vulnerability under the strong mask. "We have to survive this, Logan. We owe it to—we owe Derek," he swallowed, his resolute demeanor wavering a little. "We owe him our lives—we can't let him down."

Logan bit his lip, exhaling sharply and closing his eyes as he leaned back against the hay. "I'm not saying I'm not going to try my best to get us out alive... but Jules?"

Julian looked up, his expression guarded, his fingers clenching Logan's shirt. "What is it?"

Logan finally opened his eyes, his gaze uncertain as he focused on the brunet. Julian frowned, feeling uneasy by Logan's uncertainty—an emotion he had never seen on the blond. It scared him to see the arrogant sniper unsure of his business—business he was supposed to be the expert in.

"What is it, Logan?" he asked again, pressing Logan to answer him now.

"We're out of weapons," Logan replied bluntly, his gaze swiveling from Julian to the dark shadows behind him. "We're out of weapons, we're out of ammunition, we're out of everything."

Julian's eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat. "Oh," he whispered, his breath stuck in his throat and his hands trembling. "So... are we..."

Snorting humorlessly, Logan leaned back against the hay, something dark flickering in his eyes. "We're screwed," he muttered hollowly.

Julian opened his mouth to reply, but the loud slam of doors being opened cut him off roughly, the metallic sound echoing through the building and hitting the walls gravely. Logan hissed a curse and yanked Julian down and against his chest, craning his neck to try and see past the haystacks.

Light streamed in through the open doors, the beam of sunlight interrupted by three long shadows, coming from three men standing in the doorway. They were holding weapons, their stance severe and ramrod straight, their expressions wild and dangerous.

Looking down, Logan caught sight of Julian's wide brown eyes, his fear so plain it sent shivers down the sniper's spine.

When Clavell's voice echoed through the ancient place, it sounded hollow and so saccharine sweet that it was utterly repulsive.

"Where are you, Julian?"

At the mention of his name, Julian's eyes widened even more, swallowing his pale face. He jerked backwards and he would've tumbled right over if it weren't for Logan, whose arms were wrapped around him and kept him from falling.

"Stay still," the blond mouthed impatiently, shaking the noisy actor to emphasize the importance of this.

"Don't be afraid—" Adam chuckled—a deranged, mad sound that was more terrifying than anything Julian had ever heard. "Wright's the only one who should be afraid of me. Julian?"

Julian shook his head, his fingers trembling when he grasped onto Logan's shirt. He looked up, staring right into emerald eyes, and he moved closer as he breathed, "Logan—what do we do?"

The sound of nearing footsteps filled the silent air and Julian groaned, pressing his face against Logan's shoulder. The sniper looked at him in desperation and he turned around, peeking through the hay at the three stalking men. They were starting to get closer and Logan wheeled back, grabbing Julian's hand and towing him along as he moved away from Clavell.

"What are you doing?" Julian whispered, trying to make as little sound as possible as he crawled after Logan.

"Trust me," Logan breathed back, standing up as they reached the taller haystacks in the corner. Julian followed him, leaning into him as they stood side to side in the black shadows. Logan looked around at Julian, his eyes shining with doubt. "Do you trust me?"

Julian bit his lip, cheeks pale when he nodded. "Yes," he replied, voice hoarse yet unwavering in its certainty. "I trust you."

After a short moment of contemplation, Logan held out his hand, narrowing his eyes as he gazed at the brunet in front of him. Julian stared at his outstretched hand for just a second before reaching out and grasping it, lifting his chin to meet Logan's gaze. Their fingers laced together easily, their skin vibrant and radiating warmth when they touched, almost like they were made for it. Logan lowered his intense stare and looked at their intertwined hands with an unfathomable expression.

"Lo…?" Julian asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeah?" the blond whispered, tearing his gaze away from their hands and focusing on Julian.

Julian licked his lips nervously, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip in hesitation before he dared to ask his question.

"Are we going to die?"

Logan's heart stilled and he felt cold shivers dash down his spine like electricity. He slowly looked up, right into Julian's eyes, and a massive amount of fear—not for himself, but for Julian—knocked him almost off his feet. It took him a few seconds before he could respond, his mouth opening and closing before he was finally able to produce words.

"...I don't want us to die."

Somewhere in the building something fell over, something heavy and metallic, and it created a gigantic noise—a sound that slammed against the walls and filled the air with a piercing screeching. It was immediately followed by Clavell's impatient yell.

"Julian, where are you?"

Julian visibly flinched, but before Logan could do anything, he'd collected himself—his head held high and his eyes glinting furiously.

"Okay. What's the plan?"

Logan's answer was instant and definite. "They've probably split up to search for us. We're furthest away from the doors, so naturally they'll be here last. They're probably fast though, so we'll have to hurry—"

"What do you want to do?" Julian asked, completely focused on Logan, putting his complete trust in his friend.

"We need weapons and we need to steal them from Clavell's men," Logan whispered, tugging on Julian's hand as he started walking through their hiding place.

The men were closing in on them, their footsteps getting louder and their heavy breathing audible as they stalked through the hay.

"Where are you going?" Julian breathed, lightly touching Logan's elbow to gain his attention.

Logan turned around at once, so close all of a sudden he almost bumped into Julian, whose eyes widened in surprise and whose chest struggled for air. Adrenaline was coursing through the actor's veins, his heart drumming so violently against his ribcage he was afraid it was going to burst right through.

Despite all of his inner turmoil, a moment of peace had fallen in the midst of all this horrible, terrifying chaos—a moment in which it seemed only the two of them existed.

The quiet was deafening as it covered them.

Logan exhaled shakily, his lips slightly parted to let the air through more easily. His eyes wandered over Julian's startled face—his expressive red-rimmed eyes, his luscious lips, his dirty cheeks with the tear tracks still visible...

Beautiful.

Logan blinked, almost alarmed by this thought.

Many things were beautiful. A setting sun over a calm sea, spider webs covered in glistening drops of water, piano music played by gentle fingers, a starry night along with vague memories of someone teaching him the constellations...

Julian wasn't anything like that, though. There really wasn't anything that could compare to his kind of beauty.

Logan's eyes softened and he tilted his head to the side, the tension in his shoulders vanishing as if relieved of the weight of the world. Julian's eyes narrowed—in confusion, in a silent question, in shared feelings—and Logan smiled gently.

In a rash action—thoughtless, reckless, maybe even stupid—he reached out to Julian, his arms wrapping around the brunet's slender waist, his fingers digging in his baggy clothes. Julian exhaled shakily, his hands loosely touching Logan's shoulders as if he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. His brown eyes were wide, confused, completely astounded. But Logan barely noticed the actor's astonishment, and he leaned down, closed his eyes and crushed his lips to Julian's.

Their kiss was passionate, hopeful, immeasurably gentle... flawless.

Julian made a soft sound in the back of his throat, his hands coming up to tangle in Logan's hair, grabbing the locks and tugging urgently. Logan turned them around, careful to not make any noises as he pressed Julian against the haystacks and deepened their kiss.

Their tongues danced together, exploring teeth and skin, their hands trailing over each other's clothes—and just like that... it was over.

Logan pulled back slowly, resting his forehead against Julian's, his blazing gaze examining the deep brown eyes staring up at him. Julian's cheeks were flushed—maybe for the first time in days—and he was still slightly panting from their heated kiss, but his expression was almost serene as he looked up.

"We're going to be alright," Logan breathed, his eyes wide and convincing as they drilled into Julian's. "We're going to be alright," he repeated hoarsely.

Julian didn't say anything back, merely frowned while he waited for his heart to calm down. Logan's hands were warm in his, keeping him grounded and keeping him safe. He wanted to stay in this moment of peace forever.

But time never stood still, the seconds ticking away mercilessly as traitorous footsteps came closer and closer to their hiding place, brutally disrupting the quiet moment. Logan's hands clenched around Julian's and the actor immediately understood what the sniper was silently telling him.

It was time.

"You stay here," Logan whispered.

Julian frowned, indignation coloring his expression, all the hope and light and passion from just a moment ago leaving him in a heartbeat. This wasn't what they'd agreed on—and Logan knew that.

"What?" Julian hissed. "No—Logan, we were going to do this together—"

"Please don't argue," Logan warned—almost pleaded—as he squeezed Julian's hands. "I'm not asking you to do nothing, I'm just asking you to wait for it. Let me do my thing, then you can do your thing."

"What's my thing?" Julian asked, his fingers slipping from Logan's as the sniper stepped back. "Lo—wait, no—what's my thing?"

Logan turned to look at him, green eyes glinting with emotions. "Your thing is to stay alive—"

Julian opened his mouth to protest, the color draining from his face just as quickly as it had come—but Logan hushed him quickly, his finger pressed on the actor's lips.

"—and to be here when I get back," Logan finished his sentence. "But please, please, please be careful. Promise me you'll be careful—" The sniper was definitely pleading now, laying all his pride aside as he begged for Julian to stay safe.

Wasn't that what he'd promised...? Every other thing was irrelevant right now—as long as Julian stayed safe and alive.

Julian stared at him, Logan's tone and wish reaching out to his heart and stirring some deep emotions he'd almost forgotten about. He nodded slowly. "I promise," he whispered reluctantly. "...I promise."

"Okay," Logan breathed, looking at Julian one last time, drinking in the sight of the exhausted brunet. "Wait here for me, I'll be back soon—" He turned around, but halted when he felt ice-cold fingers curl around his wrist, holding him back.

"Please don't get yourself killed," he heard Julian whisper behind him, his voice cracking and absolutely terrified.

Logan closed his eyes, counted to three, tried to control his breathing—but nothing helped against the roaring terror. "I'll do my best."

Julian let go hesitatingly—his fingers uncurling one by one, until he wasn't touching Logan anymore and the sniper was free to walk away and disappear behind the haystacks.

Logan didn't look back towards the actor, but he could imagine the lost look on his face, the fear in his brown eyes and the loud beating of his heart... because he felt the exact same. He exhaled slowly, thoughts of everything that could happen filtering through his mind—horrifying images of blood, screams, gunshots, broken and devastated people...

But... no.

No.

He wouldn't let that happen—he couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't lose Julian. Not after Derek, not after everything they had to go through and everything that happened...

...not after he'd tasted his lips, touched his face and felt things he hadn't felt in years.

It was still dark in the building, except for the one beam of light that streamed in from the open doors, and Logan moved around cautiously, using the darkest shadows as cover. It was quiet though, and Logan realized he missed Julian by his side—his gentle breathing, his soft whispers, his comforting touches—it was much, much too quiet without Julian. But what was more worrying about the silence was the fact that Clavell and his men weren't making any sounds either—like they knew Logan had made the first move, like they knew the fight was about to start.

Logan pressed back against the hay, his chest heaving as he carefully listened to the footsteps coming his way. He closed his eyes and relaxed his body, hearing the soft pat pat pat coming closer and closer... His eyes flickered open at once—green lightening against a black sky—and he leaped forward.

With the experience of years and years of fighting and surviving, Logan forced the man down to the ground, his knee planted in his back and one hand around the man's mouth—muffling his started yell. With his other hand Logan pried the gun from the man's grasp, his fingers swift and skilled as they snatched the weapon up and knocked the man unconscious with it. Without hesitating, Logan grabbed his head and jerked it viciously to the side, the light snap muted when the neck broke.

Logan stood up, stumbling back a few steps as he took in the body.

He never felt sad about killing people—it was part of the job, it was part of his life, and he never really thought much of it. But as he looked at the body at his feet and as he thought about howeasy it had been to murder that man... there was a piece of him that cracked this time. A piece of him that remembered Julian and the completely different world he lived in—their worlds separated by a bridge Logan was afraid he'd never be able to cross.

He sighed, nudging the body with his foot and shaking his head. He didn't have time to be all melancholic now. He'd be sad later, he'd think about this later—not now, not when their lives were still in danger.

So Logan gripped the stolen gun tighter, tore his gaze from the body, and hurried back the way he'd come.

Julian was leaning against the haystacks, almost looking nonchalant with his arms crossed and his eyes glassy as they stared into space. When Logan walked toward him, his feet shuffling the hay and making noise, Julian's head shot up immediately, his eyes huge and dark, his face an unhealthy shade of white. He visibly relaxed when he saw it was only Logan and he sagged against the hay, closing his eyes for a moment. Logan's heart sank when he realized how utterly drained he looked.

I'm so sorry.

He reached out with his hand, the stolen gun dangling from his fingertips as he held it out to Julian, the metal cold and vaguely glinting in the dim light. Julian stared at it, his expression forlorn as he reached out and took the weapon from Logan.

"Thanks," he whispered hoarsely, his fingers delicate and pale around the dark metal.

Logan swallowed, nodding as he looked away for a moment.

I am so, so sorry.

He sighed, trying to convey with his eyes the things he couldn't say out loud. "I'm going to try and get the other weapon, okay?"

"Wait—what did you do with that man? Is he still walking around?" Julian whispered.

That odd feeling of melancholy drifted back and Logan shook his head to get rid of it. His eyes glinted with the tiniest hint of remorse when he lightly traced a finger over his throat. Julian's eyes widened, his mouth forming an inaudible word.

"Dead?"

Logan nodded vaguely and turned around to go after the other man. He barely caught Julian's whisper before he left their hide-out, but a wave of warmth struck him when he heard the words.

"Stay safe, Lo. Please."

He looked back over his shoulder and their eyes locked for a moment, expressions sad, terrified and guarded. Logan tilted his head, smiling sadly as he pointed to Julian's gun. "You keep that ready, okay?"

Julian nodded ruefully, his fingers curling around the metal. "Yeah. Come back soon."

Biting his lip, Logan bowed his head. "I'll try."

"Okay," Julian breathed, his eyes darker than ever as they looked away. "Try your hardest."

"I will," Logan assured him. "See you in a minute, Jules." He wheeled around, leaving a lost Julian behind who could only stare as Logan walked away.

Twenty minutes later, Logan still hadn't returned.

Julian was crouched on the floor, his back against the haystacks as he waited for Logan to come back. His arms were around his knees, his chin resting on top of them. He was fiddling absentmindedly with the gun while he waited, his mind already busy forming plans to search for Logan.

Where are you?

The silence surrounding him created a false sense of safety, but the thought of Logan—of him being somewhere in the foreign building all by himself—kept Julian alert. The fact that Logan still hadn't returned terrified him beyond belief.

Twenty minutes is a long time to be waiting.

Something could've easily happened in twenty minutes.

Did something happen...? What happened?

Julian's eyes snapped open, his heart skipping a beat and his stomach twisting in fear. He scrambled up, slipping over the hay as he looked around wildly, the gun in his hands feeling heavier than ever.

It was so quiet.

No shuffling through the building, no shouts from Clavell, no nothing.

And it didn't feel right.

It didn't feel right and where the hell was Logan?

Exhaling shakily, Julian tried to control his breathing, his chest heaving when he slowly stepped forward. He hesitated, scared out of his mind and horribly unsure of what he was supposed to do now.

He'd barely walked two steps before he was caught off guard by a whole scale of emotions. Rage, frustration, hate and pure terror flooded through his system so rapidly, he nearly drowned in it. He wanted to scream, to curse, to throw things, to yell at everything and everyone—hating everyone for putting him in this situation, hating himself for being in this situation and for being so pathetically powerless. But he hugged his torso and covered his mouth with one hand, forcing himself to hold everything back, to swallow down the raw screams that were bubbling in his throat.

Logan.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, blinking away the upcoming tears.

Logan.

He had to find Logan first.

They'd figure out what to do later—when they were together.

He heaved a shaky sigh, praying to whoever was listening that Logan was alright. The gun clutched securely in his hand, he cautiously walked forward, his breaths shallow and irregular as he tried to make as little sound as possible.

You'd better be alright, Lo. You'd better be alright, you fucking ass—

That thought floated through his head, repeating itself like a mantra. It was the only thing holding Julian upright, the only thing that made Julian continue walking. His knees were shaking, his hands were trembling and he was close—so close—to giving up, to just give in to that horrendous fear clawing its way through his heart and break down completely.

There was a small crack near him and Julian wheeled around, his heart pounding in his throat as he raised the gun with every intention to shoot.

But... nothing. There was nothing.

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Julian took a step backwards. He parted his lips to whisper Logan's name—wanting him to be here so much it hurt—but changed his mind on the last second, closing his mouth reluctantly to not give his position away.

If you're not alright I'm going to kill you, Logan. Fuck you for putting me through this. Fuck you.

He suppressed a sob that had been building in his throat, lowered the gun and turned around to continue his search. He managed to take three steps before an arm closed around his neck and yanked him back viciously. Julian's eyes widened and his gun dropped to the floor when he tried to pull the arm away. He opened his mouth, ready to scream, but a hand closed around his lips, effectively blocking his shout for help.

A hysterical terror tore through his body, crippling and violent, burning him from the inside out.

No no no no no no no.

Breath rasping through his throat and nose, he tried to pry the hand away with his fingers, his heart pounding so tremendously loud it hurt.

No no no—NO!

A hot breath ghosted over his cheek and Julian closed his eyes in horror, feeling sick to his stomach.

This wasn't happening.

"Hi babe," Adam whispered in his ear, unbelievably soft and gentle as he pulled Julian closer to his body. "I'll take care of you now, okay? We're going to be okay, yeah? We're going to go to a better place, where we can be together... please don't be afraid."

Julian closed his eyes, a desperate sob escaping from his throat.

"Come with me," Adam breathed patiently. "Wright has to see this, Wright has to see us being happy. Come with me, sweetheart—I know a perfect spot." He was silent for two heartbeats, as if contemplating something. "Everything will be alright, Julian, we just have to do this. We just have to get through this. Trust me."

Julian shook his head, frantically trying to get out of Adam's grasp—kicking, clawing and hissing like a wild cat—but the taller man was so much stronger than him and his struggle was pathetically futile.

Adam chuckled softly, and it almost sounded tender.

"Trust me, Julian."

#gunsighfic #daltonfic #jogan

3 notes · View notes

gunsightfic-blog · 13 years ago

Text

Chapter 11: Wreck It All

Logan looked at Julian with a bewildered expression, his mind still reeling, thoughts about Clavell and him being a stalker—him being Julian's stalker—exploding in his head.

"What...?"

"Lo, where is Derek?"

Julian was panicking now and he was looking around the room feverishly, almost as if he was expecting Derek to be hiding somewhere and that it was all just some big joke. That every minute Derek could jump up and scare the living shit out of them, and they'd all be yelling and bickering, but it wouldn't matter, because it would all be a joke and they'd all be alive and okay...

Any minute now.

"Where is Derek, Logan?" Julian asked frantically, tugging on Logan's sleeve, his fingers tearing the fabric.

But Logan was still stunned and anger was filling him now, a white-hot, searing anger that weighed on his heart and twisted his stomach, and he was going to be sick... because where was Derek... and where was Clavell...?

"He was your stalker?"

Julian's hands flew up and his fingers disappeared in strands of dirty brown hair. He nodded his head in panic, his eyes wide and scared and desperate. "Yes!"

Logan took a shaky breath. "We have to find Derek," he murmured. "We have to find Derek. Shit. Where did you see him last, Julian?"

"He was running this way," Julian whispered hoarsely. He was on the verge of a break down and it was showing—his eyes were as wide as saucers, his face pale, his cheeks flushed in distress. "He has to be here somewhere. He can't be upstairs, he didn't go to any stairs... He's not in the hallways—he has to be here somewhere." He ran to various doors, opening and closing them as they turned up empty. "How is he not here? He's got to be here somewhere..."

"We'll find him, Julian," Logan reassured him with a firm voice. "We'll find him." He yanked open another door—

—and then so many things happening at once that it seemed like the world exploded.

There was a hoarse scream that could only be Derek—Derek who was still alive, Derek who was here—and it was soon followed by a horrified yell—

"Julian!"

A furious scream—

"Logan fucking Wright!"

And immediately after that, gunshots were ripping through the room along with more screams and yells and curses. Trained and experienced, Logan managed to wheel around and push Julian behind an old wardrobe in a quick action, squashing next to his friend as they searched for cover. He swore loudly and slid the bag from his shoulders, digging through it impatiently. He snatched the gun from Julian's hand and swapped the magazines, throwing the old one on the floor and handing the actor back his gun.

"Here, take another one—"

"Logan! Logan, that was Derek!"

"Yes. Yes, I know—"

"He's alive!"

"Yes, Ju—"

"But how are we going to get out of here? How are we going to survive this? Logan—"

"Take the gun, Julian. You'll need it," Logan pressed as he tried to not lose his patience, pushing the gun in Julian's hands when the actor didn't take it himself.

"Logan—"

"I know, Julian! Stop whining, I'll think of something!"

After he'd renewed his own magazines, Logan slung the bag around his shoulder and he peaked around the closet cautiously. Immediately, the sounds of gunshots swelled again and Julian hissed in fear.

"Fuck you! I'm not whining, Logan! That is Derek out there! That is my best friend out there! We have to help him! We have to get out of here!"

Logan threw the actor an aggravated look. "Sure, Julian. If I just jump out there and distract them with something, you're going to grab Derek and make a run for it, okay? Does that sound like a good fucking plan?"

Julian narrowed his eyes, his lips curling up in a ferocious snarl. "Fuck. You."

"And fuck you, too." Logan spat back. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment and he took a deep, slow breath as he tried to calm his mind. When he opened them again, the green of his irises were blazing with determination and without a second thought, the blond lunged from behind the wardrobe, two guns in his hands, at everything that moved.

Without looking around and without stopping as he tried to defend himself, Logan yelled, "Fucking go then, Julian!"

Julian was looking at him with wide eyes, groaning as he grabbed the closet to prevent himself from collapsing. This was not happening. "I thought you were being sarcastic!" he yelled back, absolutely desperate.

"Get Derek, you fucking princess!"

Julian bit his lip, but he didn't hesitate. All he wanted was to grab Derek and get out of here alive. So he pushed himself from the wall and left the cover of the closet from the other side. His fingers were clenching two guns and he held them in front of his body, expression grim as he shot at the men that immediately started attacking him.

Bullets flew over his head and he heard them zoom by as they narrowly missed him. Julian was ducking and swirling, never standing still, his heart beating so loudly it rammed violently against his ribcage. Dust and dirt flared up from the floor and it formed a vague fog, making sight difficult, making aiming impossible. Blood and fallen men were littered over the floor and the actor was slipping over the red liquid, tripping over the bodies, and the scene was more gruesome and more terrifying than any movie set could ever recreate.

And suddenly Derek was there, running towards him, gun in his hand and blood on his face and clothes. He almost collided with Julian and Julian felt his heart soar in relief as he caught sight of his best friend.

"Derek—!"

"Go, go, go!" the athlete yelled, turning Julian around and pushing him away from the fight, not looking backwards, just looking at that door he wanted to reach—and he wanted to get out of here, but—

"Logan! What about Lo—"

"He'll be okay, Jules! Just run, okay?"

But Julian was shaking his head stubbornly and he whirled around. He was still firing his guns and he wondered how many bullets he had left. Even though Clavell's men were starting to fall—their numbers dwindling down slowly due to Logan's unfathomable expertise—Julian was thanking the gods that they weren't dead yet.

"Julian, go—"

"I'm not leaving without Logan, Derek, you know that!"

Derek yelled suddenly and he pushed Julian out of the way, a bullet grazing his arm as they fell to the ground. Derek scrambled up and wheeled around, shooting one of the offenders in his leg; the man cried out and collapsed onto the floor.

Then Logan appeared out of nowhere—panting, bleeding, sweating, and dirty—and he grabbed Julian's hand, pulled him up and towed them along, shoving Derek to the door impatiently.

"Get out of here, we have to get out of here," he snapped, cursing when a bullet ripped his shoulder open, fresh blood oozing out of the shallow wound. "Go, go, go!" He whirled around, defending Julian and Derek's back as they sprinted towards the one door.

They were almost there.

The sunlight provided little light and Logan's eyes were the brightest things in the room as dust continued to whirl up from the floor, filth and dirt drifting in the air and obscuring everyone's view.

Julian yanked the door open and Logan fired both his guns for the last time, throwing them away when he realized the magazines were empty. He turned around, fully intending to leap through the door and throw it shut behind them.

"No!" Julian screamed suddenly and instead of opening the door further, he was pushing it shut again.

"What the hell are you doing? What the hell are you doing?" Logan snarled, absolutely furious, and he snatched the gun from the actor's hand to keep defending them. There were not many men standing anymore, though. "I swear to God, if you don't open that fucking door right now—!"

But Julian was throwing his weight against it and he was screaming and yelling and Derek was looking at him in utter confusion.

Whoever was trying to open the door on the other side was stronger though, and the door swung open violently, making Julian fall back against Derek.

The gunshots stopped instantly.

A heavy silence fell in the room—a terrifying, horrible silence that was so sudden it was almost louder than the gunshots.

Julian drew a shaky breath, his hand grabbing Derek's wrist as they both stared in absolute horror and disbelief.

Adam Clavell was standing on the other side of the door, dark eyes narrowed to slits, his sharp gaze traveling over the trio and lingering on each boy individually.

The one that had disobeyed him.

The one that had rejected his love.

The one that had tried to kill him.

Logan was the first one to move. He tightened the grip on his gun, raised his arm and cocked it. His finger was curling around the trigger and he was close—so close—to shooting, but Clavell gave him a murderous glance, a single gunshot echoed through the air, and Logan cried out, blood spilling rapidly from the wound in his arm. His gun fell to the ground with a loud clattering sound and Logan bit his lip, his eyes fluttering close in pain.

"Oh fucking—"

"You didn't honestly think you could kill me, did you, Wright?" Adam snapped, lowering his arm, his gun still smoking. "You honestly think you have a chance against me? Now? In this mess you created?"

"Adam. Don't do this," Julian whispered, his wide eyes focusing on the man who he'd once been friends with such a long time ago.

Adam's eyes softened as they looked at the actor and his voice was gentle as he replied. "But I have to, Julian... You don't understand. Not yet. You'll see. You will see... everything's going to be so much better... We just have to... eliminate the last things that stand in the way. It'll be alright, I promise."

"No," Julian shook his head, eyes glistening with fear. "No, everything's not alright. Let us go, Adam..." From his peripheral vision he could see Derek hand his gun to Logan and he focused back on Adam, on the person he thought to be dead. "How... how did you..."

"Survive?" Adam snickered darkly. "I wasn't dead after I was shot. The ambulance took me, I had to go through surgery and I had to stay in the hospital for weeks—" he took a deep breath. "And then I was out again. Just like that. Because no one had reported me, because everyone thought I was dead, and the nurses and doctors couldn't say a thing," he laughed cruelly. "Patient confidentiality."

Julian pressed his lips together, expression horrified as he shook his head. "Adam, why are you doing this?" his voice broke, his hands trembled and he had to force himself not to break down right then and there.

It was all too much.

Way, way too much.

"Because I love you!" Adam whispered desperately and suddenly he was the young Adam again and not the cruel man that hired people to kill the actor, that terrible man that believed they should both die. "I love you so much, why don't you see that, Julian?"

"Because you hurt everyone!" Julian cried desperately. "You hurt people, you hurt people I care about, Adam! You killed Carmen! Why did you do that? What did she ever do to you?"

"She was standing in the way—"

"You can't just kill people because they stand in the way!" Julian shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Adam—I don't love you."

Adam jerked back as if he was slapped and the menacing glint in his dark eyes returned, his mouth curling up in a furious snarl. "Yes, you do! I just... have to take care of the people standing in our way." His eyes were wild as they raked over the trio standing in front of him.

His arm snapped up so quickly, it was all Logan could do to push Derek over in time, the bullet flying over both their heads as they fell on the floor together. Adam snarled furiously and aimed his gun again, but this time it was Julian who yelled and leaped forward, shoving Adam against a wall with surprising force.

Logan and Derek stood up from the floor and the blond sniper grabbed his friend's wrist, pushing him behind him and into relative safety. The surrounding men were moving again; running towards the trio and their boss, who was still slightly dazed from where he sat against the wall. Logan cursed as he walked backwards, Derek behind him, gun ready to fire.

"Julian!"

As the first gunshots cut the air, Adam leaped on his feet and he was reaching out towards the actor, his hands almost grabbing Julian's sleeve. Logan was faster, fingers curling around Julian's wrist and yanking him back to him.

The trio backed away and Logan opened a door on good luck, pushing his friends in and leaping behind them, smashing the door shut.

"It's a closet—" Julian whispered horrified, turning in a little circle as he took in the rather big closet. There was absolutely no other way out than the way they went in. "No..."

Logan cursed loudly, and when Derek sank to the floor without a word, his two friends followed with long sighs. They were weary, wounded, exhausted beyond recognition. It was silent for a long time—the three friends relishing in the short moment of peace, all three of them trying to think of a plan to get them out safely. Logan was the first one to murmur a suggestion.

"You two have to go," he whispered, his heart clenching and breaking as he turned his gaze to Julian first. "I'll distract them and you can run." Julian started shaking his head, his eyes wide in horror as he stared at his friend. He opened his mouth to protest, but Logan reached out and delicately pressed two fingers against Julian's lips. "Don't talk, just listen to me for a moment. Let me do this for you. It's my fault that you're in this mess, it's my fault Clavell has gotten this far... Let me do this one thing for you—please—"

Cheeks bright red, Julian swatted Logan's hand away. "No—they'll—"

"—kill me?" Logan smiled gently at the brunet, his heart strangely swelling as he stared into the brown eyes. "I never expected to survive this job to begin with, Julian. I don't really care about that."

"Logan—" Derek started, his eyes flickering between Julian and Logan, his expression desperate. "Don't do this."

"If I don't do this, you're not going to get out of here alive," Logan retorted harshly. "I'm not prepared to let you die over something I did wrong."

"No, no, no—" Julian muttered, his cold fingers grasping onto Logan's hands desperately. He looked up, staring in the bright green gaze with wide eyes, and shook his head. "Logan, there's another way—we'll find another way. You're not going to—to stupidly sacrifice yourself when there's absolutely no need to—!"

"No need?" Logan snapped incredulously, gesturing to the door and the waiting men behind it. "They're waiting for us to get out of here and then they're going to slaughter us like trappedanimals! I'd say there is definitely a fuc—"

"I don't care! Logan, I don't care!" Even though his expression was stubborn and his eyes glinted ferociously, Julian's bottom lip trembled, betraying his fear and vulnerability. He raised one hand, but he hesitated too long and the moment to touch Logan—to maybe cup his cheek shortly—passed by, and he dropped his hand listlessly.

Logan raised his voice, bringing his face even closer to Julian's. Their noses almost touched as they stared each other down. "You should care, damn it! Do you want to die?"

"I'm not leaving here without you!" Julian burst out, a blazing fire in his eyes, his fingers digging in the palms of Logan's hands. "I'm not leaving this place without you! Fucking hell, Logan! We'll find another way out! We're not going to sacrifice ourselves! We're in this together and we'll get out of this together!" He turned his smoldering gaze to Derek, who was behind Logan, idly looking through the sniper's bag of impressive weaponry. "Right, Derek?"

"Yeah, Derek—" Logan sneered as he turned around to look at the athlete. "You say something about it. Do you want to live or die? Fucking hell, I'm just going to—" but as he tried to stand up, Julian's hands moved up and clasped around his arms like iron vises, and the actor yanked him back down again.

"Don't you fucking dare, Wright," he snarled menacingly. "Don't you fucking dare."

"What are you going to do, Larson?" Logan snapped back, his eyes darkening in his frustrated fury. "Are you going to kill me? You might as well let Clavell do it! That way you can at least live!"

"Don't say that to me, you ass!" Julian yelled and in an action fueled by pure desperation, he raised his hand and slapped Logan hard across his face. Logan's eyes widened and he fell completely silent as he stared at a heavily panting Julian, his cheek turning white-hot and bright red.

"Julian..."

Julian stared back at him, his lips pressed in a tight line, his expression challenging and fearless for once. "What, you ass?"

Julian and Logan were bickering back and forth with such an intensity that they'd temporarily forgotten about Derek. The athlete was watching the two young men—his best friends—and as he thought about what was waiting for them on the other side of the door, his heart broke.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end.

Not for any of them.

Derek saw the concern in Logan's eyes now and he'd seen the worry and the care he'd given Julian in the past few days... he wasn't blind. He was glad that Logan had finally, finally seemed to open his eyes, that he was finally noticing Julian. Because Derek knew that after all these years, after everything that had happened, after all that time spent apart, after all those flings Hollywood went crazy about... Derek knew that Julian's heart was still with Logan, that it still belonged to his old high school friend.

It always had.

This horrible chaos wasn't the time for love and it wasn't the perfect time for a romance to start, but the way Logan and Julian were staring at each other was so intimate, Derek almost felt the need to look away.

Even when they were fighting their love shined through. That flash of utter concern in devastating green eyes... That glimpse of an undying love in a sepia stare... The way their hands were still touching and their bodies seemed to gravitate towards each other...

And Derek knew that it might not be fair for anyone of them to end like this—to step out of here and be murdered like a pig for slaughter—but the athlete realized that especially for his two friends, for Julian and Logan and their strong, blooming love... especially for them... it couldn't end like this. That was so unfair and so tragically wrong it hurt to even think about.

They were like his brothers. Even Logan, who'd only recently stepped back into their lives, bringing along his horrendous moods and snarky comments—even Logan was his brother. And he loved them. Simple as that.

He loved them.

And that was why it only sparked a small bit of fear, that was why he hesitated for only a split second, before he grabbed in Logan's bag and snatched up the weapon he'd seen a few minutes ago.

It didn't take Logan long to realize what Derek was doing, but before he could stop his friend—before he could do anything—Derek had opened the door and stepped out. Julian immediately leaped to his feet and he would've run straight after his friend, if it weren't for Logan who tackled him to the ground again.

"No, Julian, don't—!"

"Derek—you idiot—!"

"Don't!"

Gunshots were being fired, but the only thing registering in Derek's mind were the cries of his two friends and the fact that he was holding Logan's machinegun as he ran across the room.

"Derek!"

"Julian—"

"Logan, let me go—let me go! Derek!"

"Julian!"

"No, no, no, no!"

But Derek couldn't turn around to look at his friends and he couldn't answer their cries, because guns were being aimed at him and the machinegun in his own hands was still firing rapidly and tirelessly. He had to trust Logan to take control and according to his peripheral vision, Logan was taking control already.

"No! Let me go, let me go! Derek!"

Logan's breath was coming in gasps, the air stuck in his throat as he forced Julian to move backwards out of the room. The actor was struggling, his nails raking over Logan's skin as he tried to get his arms off of him.

"Let me go!"

Clavell and his men were too distracted by Derek, who never ceased his fire on them, and when Logan finally reached the door and pushed Julian through, they were too late to react.

Everything hurt as Logan slammed the door shut; very well knowing that it sealed the fate of Derek. The gunshots and cries never died, only slightly muted by the closed door, forever imprinted in both Julian and Logan's minds.

"Are you an idiot?" Julian yelled, struggling as Logan forced him to move. "Don't fucking leave him behind, Logan! He'll die! Logan!"

But Logan pressed his lips in a tight line and his arm was wrapped securely around the actor's waist, his sharp eyes carefully scrutinizing the dark rooms and the hallways they passed by. Julian stumbled on his feet as Logan pulled him along, almost tripping, his vision blinded by stinging tears. Logan had trouble pushing his whirling emotions down and he'd never regretted forgetting his medication as much as he did now.

At last, they reached the living room and Logan heaved a sigh as he dragged Julian with him. He was starting to get tired; his legs numbing, the shot wound in his arm burning.

Julian was still fighting his hold with a power that astounded him. The actor was screaming—horrible, awful, broken yells that ripped through the house and pierced through Logan's mind. The blond felt his knees buckle, his body growing weak. It was also his friend they'd left behind, also his best friend who'd thrown himself out there.

When they stumbled out of the house, Logan immediately headed toward the car. "In the car, Julian, get in the car—" But when they'd taken two steps, Logan saw that the tires were flat and useless, probably punctured by Clavell's men. His heart sank and he hissed a stream of furious profanities as he turned Julian around again. "No, no, no—fuck—fuck—"

Logan grabbed Julian by his waist and all but dragged him back, deeper into the deserted farm. They ran until they couldn't see the house anymore and they didn't stop until Logan spotted a huge building that must've been used for storage in better times.

It was big on the inside—with old, dusty hay bales haphazardly thrown over the floor. The stone walls and floor forming a sharp contrast with the rest of the sheds on the farm, that were all made out of wood.

Logan opened the metal doors and all but threw Julian inside, following quickly and slamming the doors shut again. The resulting dark surrounded them like an old friend and instead of being frightened, Logan was grateful for the cover it offered them. Without letting go of the actor, Logan carefully made his way to the opposite wall of the building, as far away from the door as possible.

Behind a pile of hay bales, Logan finally gave in to his exhaustion, and he sagged down on the floor, taking Julian with him. He leaned against the soft hay, his arms still wrapped around the brunet. The suspiciously quiet brunet.

"Julian?" Logan's whisper was sharp in the darkness, but the actor didn't respond. He just sat on the floor, leaning heavily against Logan, his glistening eyes barely visible as they stared at nothing. "Julian...?"

Julian was deadly quiet now, his hands clutching Logan's arms forcefully. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and his shoulders shocked as he tried to repress his sobs, but he said absolutely nothing. In the scarce light that filtered through the few dirty windows, he looked awful, almost sick. Along with the never-ending tears and the utterly broken expression in his shining eyes, this deafening silence was even more terrifying than his previous screaming, saying everything that couldn't be brought into words.

"We're going to be alright, Julian..." but then Logan thought of Derek and how he was alone against so many people... and he knew they weren't going to be alright.

Green eyes closed for a moment and the desperate sniper ran a hand through his hair, trying to stifle his own sobs. He couldn't cry... not here... not now... not when Julian was so broken and devastated and hurt...

He tightened his embrace around Julian, his concern doubling when the actor stayed numb, not reacting at all. Logan reached out in the dark, his fingers lacing through brown hair as he gently pushed Julian's head down so it rested on his chest. Logan buried his nose in Julian's soft hair and shut his eyes tightly, tears trickling down his cheeks.

"Jules..."

The nickname seemed to finally break the spell and Logan could feel it when Julian heaved a trembling breath and curled up in himself. The brunet pressed his face in Logan's chest and his fingers grabbed onto the blond's shirt desperately, nearly tearing the fabric. Warm liquid seeped through Logan's clothes as Julian started to sob—a sound so heartbreaking and so utterly painful, it hurt Logan far worse than his injuries.

They stayed like that for a long time—curled up in each other, Logan's face buried in Julian's hair, Julian almost drowning in Logan's strong embrace. They never wanted to let go again, wishing to stay like this forever, wishing to be comforted by each other forever...

But the harsh reality lingered in the back of their minds, never shutting up and never stopping its arrogant nagging as it got clearer and clearer—

They were in an abandoned farm, miles and miles away from people and help, hiding in an old, dark building—hurt, injured and exhausted...

...they were trapped.

#gunsightfic #daltonfic #jogan

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gunsightfic-blog · 13 years ago

Text

Chapter 10: Hunted

The sun was just starting to come up and it was peaking through the filthy windows, its beams pouring down on the three panicking boys, making the whole scene seem a lot sunnier than it actually was. Julian raked his hands through his hair, his eyes huge as he watched Derek and Logan move through the room.

"What are we going to do?"

Logan grunted a curse and he zipped his bag open, reaching inside and pulling out a couple of guns. He threw one to Derek, who caught it in surprise, and handed another one to Julian, green eyes looking doubtful as the actor grabbed it without hesitation.

"Do you two even know how to shoot?" the sniper asked urgently, slinging the bag over his shoulder and hooking some of his guns to his belt. The sunlight was playing in his hair and it looked more golden than the sun itself at the moment. Logan's silhouette—his broad shoulders, his muscled arms, his long legs—was sharply outlined as he stood in front of the window, and Julian found it difficult to look away.

Logan noticed the actor's preoccupation and when he normally would've made a cocky comment, he got annoyed now. They didn't have time for things like this and Logan snapped his fingers impatiently, making brown eyes flash back to focus.

"Attention, Larson! Please pay me some of your almighty attention if you want to survive this—"

Julian glared at him, crossing his arms defiantly. "Fuck off, Wright," he sneered, forcing himself to focus on Logan's words and not on his lips.

Derek was watching the two with a slightly amused expression, but when they heard cars pulling up outside, the amusement disappeared at once. They immediately dove out of sight of the open windows, hearts in their throats, clutching their guns tightly.

"So, do you know how to shoot?" Logan whispered sharply, pushing the other two boys around a corner that led to a hallway. "I need to know this, guys."

"I know how to shoot!" Julian hissed back and he cocked his gun as if to prove his point.

"When have you ever learned how to shoot?" Logan retorted irritably, not believing the spoiled actor for a second.

"In action movies—"

"Are you fucking kidding me? This isn't a movie, Julian!"

"They made me take shooting lessons, so I could get more into my character! And I brought Derek with me, so yeah—I know how to shoot!" Julian snapped angrily, gesturing to Derek, who nodded in agreement.

"We were the best in our class," Derek added, traces of a smug grin on his face.

Logan stared at the two for a moment, disbelief coloring his expression. But when Julian and Derek just stared back and didn't deny anything, he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'll just have to believe it then, I guess," he mumbled, pushing Julian back and peaking around the wall toward the front door.

"You sure they're coming in through the front door?" Derek asked. "I mean, isn't there a back door, too? And windows...?"

"Shut up, I know what I'm d—," Logan hushed, but he got interrupted when Julian suddenly gasped and hit him hard in his chest. "Ow, fuck, Julian—what the hell—?"

"Shadows!" Julian whispered, hand trembling as he pointed to the windows. Even though there were dark curtains hanging in front of the windows, they were so battered and torn that the fabric still let through light. There were shadows gliding over the old floor in the room, indicating the presence of people outside. "Oh god," Julian looked nauseous as he stared in absolute horror at the dark shapes.

Derek grasped his wrist, unconsciously pulling his friend closer as he looked around at Logan. The young sniper was studying the movements behind the curtains carefully, expression cold and calculating.

"What are we going to do now, Lo?"

Logan merely shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the windows and gazing around the room, not trying to show his growing distress as he searched for an escape, for a way out... but he came up empty.

And at that moment, the front door blasted open with a gigantic slam, the wood splintering and the hinges falling off with another loud crack. Logan cursed, pushing Derek and Julian back as they watched men bursting in, carrying guns and grim expressions. Julian hissed in fear, his hand reaching out and grabbing Logan's arm as they slowly walked backwards.

"Okay, here's what's going to happen," Logan whispered as the men continued to barge into the house. "We're going to sneak upstairs... and maybe we can escape via the roof or something—"

"—maybe—" Derek looked pale.

Logan took a shuddering breath. "A big maybe. Alright, listen to me. Keep your eyes open, if you see anything move, shoot. If you hear anything, shoot. I don't care if you're unsure about it, you just shoot, okay? Because if you don't shoot first, they will. Don't ever hesitate."

Julian and Derek nodded, their faces lined with worry and stress, and both gripped their guns tighter.

"Okay then," Logan eyed the staircase in the hallway, not far from the front door, but well out of sight of the intruders. He could hear the heavy footsteps of Clavell's men vibrate through the entire building as they searched the ground floor. "Be fast and careful, guys. We have to go... now—!" and he lunged forward, both his friends on his heels as they sprinted through the hallway and fled up the stairs.

The staircase was old and their footsteps were louder than they'd imagined, the cracking of the steps echoing throughout the house. Derek and Julian winced and looked at each other with wide eyes, almost stopping if it weren't for Logan, who set his hands in their backs and pushed them further.

"They heard us," Logan shoved Julian impatiently and the actor almost tripped on the steps, his free hand barely grabbing the banister in time to keep him on his feet. "Faster, faster—guys, movefaster!"

Men were running into the hallway just as the trio set foot on the first floor and dashed away from their sight. But Clavell's men had caught a quick glimpse of them and they started yelling, their screams and demands to look everywhere bounding through the entire house.

Logan grabbed Derek and Julian by their sleeves and pulled them through the landing, pushing a door open on good luck and barging in. To their surprise they stumbled in yet another hallway and Julian cursed as he quickly closed the door behind him.

"This house is too big! It's like a freaking maze, we'll never find a way out!"

"Shh!" Logan hissed and he urged his friends to start running again, determined to get out of here alive. Determined to get at least his friends out of here alive... he owed them that much.

The boys had never gotten the chance to investigate the house and Logan was regretting that now, for he had no idea which way he was running, no idea whether this was a safe way to go; he had no idea how to get out of here alive. When they rounded a corner and stumbled on yet another staircase, leading to the ground floor again, Logan swore loudly and wheeled around again.

There was no way they could go back through the hallway, though, for there were furious footsteps coming from that direction; fast and menacing as they reverberated through the corridor. Julian was gripping Derek's arm so tightly and his brown eyes were so wide with fear that it broke Logan's heart, but he had to make a decision and he had to make one now.

Looking around feverishly—the hallway behind them, the staircase, and the few doors that certainly led to rooms without a way to escape—he gestured with his gun to Derek and Julian, beckoning them closer.

Time was running out. Yet again.

"We're going to the ground floor, we're going to the living room and we're going to fight our way out. We're getting out of this, okay?" Logan's piercing gaze swiveled back and forth between Derek and Julian, who were both looking at him with terrified yet determined expressions, putting their complete trust in their long lost best friend, now a trained sniper with absolute knowledge about these kind of situations.

The footsteps in the hallway were getting louder though, and Logan realized that they didn't have enough time to get off the staircase safely. Not with those men so closely on their heels, not with the barrels of their guns breathing down their necks… He bit his lip as he tried to control his heavy breathing.

"Change of plans. You two go," he whispered decisively, moving to stand in front of his friends, facing the hallway, his gun ready. The footsteps were so close now... so, so close...

"What...?" Julian was panicking and he was looking at Logan with large, wild eyes. "No—what?"

"Just go!" Logan snapped and he turned the two around by their shoulders, almost pushing them off the stairs. Derek tripped and it was all Julian could do keep him from falling off the steps. "Go, don't look back, just go!" Logan roared just as the first men appeared from behind the corner. They immediately started yelling, eyes glinting violently, aiming their guns with precision—

"Go!"

"Logan!"

"Fucking go, Julian!"

The first gunshots were like ferocious thunder cracking through the sky in a furious hurricane—the sounds booming through the old house as if through a scared forest, making the abandoned building tremble and shiver on its foundations, making everyone inside alert, ready, and anticipating.

The first gunshots weren't from Clavell's men.

Logan's eyes were a furious green as they stared coldly at the two fallen men on the floor, blood already forming pools under their still bodies, the sunlight falling through the windows giving the red liquid an odd, macabre glow.

Behind the sniper, two separate gasps sliced the air. Logan didn't turn around, just cocked his gun again and snapped at his friends to "get the fuck out of here!" and to "run, goddamnit!". Finally, Logan heard them run off the stairs, so fast they could've been falling off. The sound of different running announced the presence of even more of Clavell's men, and Logan pressed his lips in a thin line as three of them came to a stop before him. Having heard the gunshots and seeing their comrades lying dead on the floor, the men didn't hesitate as they aimed their guns and started shooting at the blond.

Logan ducked immediately as the bullets flew over his head, drilling into the wall behind him, narrowly missing his head. Beneath him, he heard a yell that could only come from Julian and he had to fight the urge to look around, to run down that stairs and help his friends out.

But his attention was acquired somewhere else. And even though he had to use every ounce of willpower he possessed to not wheel around and see how his friends were doing—to see howJulian was doing—he kept standing, convincing himself that they were strong and smart enough to keep each other safe.

Logan had his own fight to win.

The men underestimated him. They were far older than Logan and they were laughing derisively as they almost casually aimed their guns for the second time, having no idea of the experience of the young sniper, having no idea that he'd killed far more people than they'd ever had.

Logan didn't even blink as he pulled a second gun from his belt, raised his arms and cocked both guns. Giving the men no chance to run or to even think about the danger they were in, he narrowed his eyes and pulled the two triggers at the same time, the thunderous sounds tearing through the room viciously. The one living man yelled and screamed in fury as his two companions sagged onto the floor, their last gurgling breaths barely audible, the blood streaming rapidly out of their bodies.

"No!" Wild with anger and frustration, the man didn't even aim when he raised his gun and shot at the blond.

Logan whirled around as he tried to avoid the bullet, groaning when he didn't duck in time and it grazed his shoulder, leaving a shallow wound that stung viciously. He gasped and cupped the wound with his hand, blood already oozing out, leaking from between his fingers and staining his clothes.

"I'm going to kill you!" the man screamed and his gun rose again, both of his hands around the cold metal, his expression absolutely livid.

Logan was faster.

While holding his hand on the wound in his shoulder, the young sniper raised his hurt arm and pulled the trigger in the same second, not needing much time to aim properly. The bullet cut the air almost gracefully, digging into the man's chest before he'd had the chance to even cock his gun.

Without waiting for him to collapse, Logan had already turned around and he was dashing off down the stairs, worried sick for Derek and Julian. When he got downstairs, his feet immediately got soaked in blood and he looked around the room in shock, feeling sick to his stomach as he took in the scene. A few bodies lay limply on the floor, covered in blood and dirt, and he realized that he'd completely missed the shooting going on here with everything that had been going on upstairs.

Not wanting to give away his position, Logan didn't call out, instead stalking noiselessly through the destroyed living room and checking all the hallways attached to it. The sudden silence was so different than the loud chaos from just moments ago, it sounded deafening and dangerous, and it chilled him to the bone.

When someone tentatively touched his shoulder, Logan whirled around, fully intending to blow off that person's head. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw wide sepia eyes staring right back at him.

"Don't shoot," Julian whispered, voice hoarse and scared, his eyes so wide and dark that Logan could see his own reflection in them. "Don't shoot."

The blond panted, lowering his gun and closing his eyes in relief. "Screw you, Julian—don't sneak up on me like that. I nearly blew your head off-" his green eyes flew open again, scanning the actor for injuries. "Are you alright? Are you hurt? Where's Derek?"

Julian bit his lip and shook his head. "I don't know. We had a fight with those guys and we got separated and he ran off somewhere. Shit, Lo—" he raked his hand through his hair, making brown strands stand up everywhere. His face was flustered and there was blood on his clothes and skin. "What are we going to do?" Then his gaze fell on Logan's arm and his eyes widened in shock as he reached out towards his friend. "What happened to you? Did they shoot you—?"

Logan was just about to shake his head and comfort the stunned actor, when a loud voice boomed through the bloodied room and both boys wheeled around at once.

"Logan Wright! I know you're there, you disobedient, conceited asshole!"

Despite his fear, Julian frowned, his eyes narrowing as he tried to spot the person that was talking. "I know that voice..." he mumbled, more to himself than to Logan.

Logan wasn't going to give the speaker a chance to show his face though, because he recognized that voice too and he knew very well what its owner could do to them. He grabbed Julian by his elbow and turned around, making a dash in the opposite direction.

"Come on, come on," he snapped when the actor tripped and almost fell over. "We have to go or we're dead. Fuck, he's here. Why is he here?"

"Who's here?" Julian panted, hating to be left in the dark, hating not to know everything that was going on.

"The man who wants you dead," Logan's breath was heavy as they opened a door and ran into another huge room. "The man who hired me to kill you," there were several doors on the sides of the room and Logan glared at them in frustration. "The one who set all these men up to hunt us down and kill us," he continued as he dragged Julian to one of the doors and opened it forcefully.

"But who is he? Why would he want me dead?" Julian pressed, watching as Logan closed the door to the closet furiously and reached out to the one next to it.

"I don't fucking know, Julian! All I know is that Clavell wants you dead because of "personal" reasons, whatever the hell that means—"

This door opened to another room and Logan reached behind him to grab hold of Julian again—only to see the actor standing rooted to the floor, his eyes so big they swallowed his face, his breathing fast and irregular as he stared at Logan in utter shock.

"Julian? What the hell are you doing, we have to go," Logan snapped, but Julian didn't move.

"What—what did you say? What's his name—?" the actor croaked.

Logan frowned, starting to get annoyed and impatient with the actor who was, yet again, showing his inner drama queen. "Julian, we don't have time for this—"

"What was his name, Logan?"

Logan exhaled sharply. "His name is Clavell, Julian, I just said that. Are you happy now? Can we go now? You know, to save our lives? What's the matter with you? We have to go. We are dead if we do not run right now!"

"Adam Clavell? Is—is his name Adam Clavell?" Julian whispered, his voice breaking when he spoke out that name.

When Logan nodded shortly, confused and agitated, Julian groaned and he buried his face in his hands. "No, no, no—"

"Julian, what the hell—?"

"That's not possible, Logan!" Julian suddenly burst out, kicking the wall in a horrible rage. "He was dead, Derek killed him! Why is he alive? What is he doing here?" His expression went from scared, to furious, to horrified in a split second, and Logan got only more confused from watching the display of emotions. "Where is Derek?" Julian choked out, all the color draining from his face. "Ohgod, Derek shot him, Derek shot him, Logan! Where is Derek?"

"What the hell is going on?" Logan lunged at the actor, grabbed him by his shoulders and shook him violently. "What the fuck are you doing? I don't know if you've noticed, but our lives are in fucking danger, Larson! Get a grip on yourself! We have to move!"

"He was my stalker!" Julian screamed, not calming down at all, his heart thumping so fast it hurt, his breath stuck in his throat. "He was my stalker! When I was nineteen and he wanted to kill me and—and—Derek, Derek shot him—" He was hyperventilating. "Oh my god, fuck no—no no no no—fuck!"

Stalker...?

And then everything clicked in Logan's mind, and he remembered the conversation from what seemed like ages ago. He remembered a picture, the paper old and wrinkling in his tight grasp, dark eyes and a careless smile staring up at him. And he remembered the confusion.

"You want me to assassinate one of the most famous stars in Hollywood?"

"Yes."

The hateful sneer, the twinkle of something sad and passionate behind dark, furious eyes...

"You want me dead?"

"I want you to do whatever it takes."

Logan closed his eyes and shook his head, almost as if he wanted to deny it... even though he knew it was all true.

"You've got to be kidding me, Julian... Your stalker?"

But Julian looked up at him, brown eyes wide and scared and so honest it hurt Logan's chest.

"Why the prima donna?"

"...it's personal."

Clavell's furious determination, his passion that had crossed the line to obsession a long time ago, his unfathomable fury...

"Fuck," Logan breathed. A long time ago—it seemed like a lifetime—he would've been glad to figure out the reason behind Clavell's demands, but at this moment and with those sepia eyes boring into his, he felt sick and violated.

Julian shook his head and he stepped forward, his fear obvious when he asked in a trembling voice the one question that was his highest priority right now—

"Logan. Where is Derek?"

#gunsightfic #daltonfic #jogan

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gunsightfic-blog · 13 years ago

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Chapter 9: Storm's Coming

Derek's fist hit Logan's cheek with a loud smack, the force of the blow whipping the blond's head to the side, his neck actually cracking slightly from the power behind the punch. Cursing vehemently, Logan grabbed his cheek, glaring at his so-called friend who'd narrowed his eyes at him in anger. Derek pulled his arm back, fully intending to hit again, but suddenly Julian was there; yelling as he grabbed Derek's arm and pulled his friend back.

"Okay, that's enough!" the actor hissed, glaring at his two friends, adrenaline racing through his body.

"What the fuck, Derek!" Logan spat, still clutching his cheek, green eyes actually tearing up with pain. "God damn it—that hurt!"

"Good for fucking you, Logan!" Derek yelled, his eyes glinting furiously as he yanked his arm from Julian's grasp. "How fucking dare you shoot Julian? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I didn't actually shoot him, okay?" Logan screamed back, his cheek bright red as he spread his arms in frustration. Julian raised his eyebrows at his outburst, stomach twisting as he finally saw a flicker of the 'old' Logan—the Logan in high school, who hadn't always been so strangely composed and calculated, who'd hit back instantly when hit himself. "I couldn't shoot him—I fuckingcouldn't and I don't know why and now I'm stuck with you guys and I don't know what to do!"

Julian looked on darkly as Logan and Derek continued fighting, his arms crossed, his fingers fidgeting with some loose threads that were hanging from Logan's too big sweater. The dark shadows under his eyes showed his exhaustion and his lips were pulled down in worry and fear—his friends didn't make this any better.

Although... his friends?

He couldn't really call Logan a friend anymore... could he? Not after everything that had happened... Not after the blond sniper had wanted to shoot him... It was all so complicated—when did it all get so complicated...?

Sepia eyes glanced at Logan and Julian's heart tugged in silent hurt as Derek shoved the taller man backwards in fury at something the blond had said. Julian exhaled slowly as the last few days played through his mind for the hundredth time, still trying to comprehend what had all transpired, still trying to place it somewhere.

The day Carmen got shot, the day his whole world had been turned upside down, had only been a few days ago.

After they had changed into dry and warm clothes, the three had grabbed their bags and had gotten into Logan's car. They'd driven for days and had only stopped when Logan had been sure they were far enough away from the danger that was surely chasing them. In the middle of the night, he'd turned the car onto a deserted road, pitch black with the lack of street lanterns, and he'd purposefully drove until they'd reached an old, abandoned farm. Julian and Derek didn't know how Logan was familiar with this place, but they'd gladly taken their refuge in the old house that was at least warmer than outside.

Derek had insisted they tell him everything, and after a little hesitation from Julian's side and a huge reluctance from Logan's side, they'd told him the whole story. How someone wanted Julian dead for unknown reasons, how that someone had hired Logan to take the shot, how Logan had tried two times, but had never succeeded.

Derek had simply exploded—not even calming down when Julian had hastily explained to him that Logan had saved Julian's life by refusing to shoot and killing one of those fake policemen.

And it was here—in this old living room of the broken house on the farm—where the infamous trio found themselves now; two of them fighting, the third looking on with a tense and aggravated expression.

"You're such an asshole, Logan!" Derek snapped, who'd already been tremendously overwhelmed by their current situation, but who'd absolutely lost it with this new, shocking revelation. "You've always been! You were a tactless bastard back at Dalton, but you've never changed! How could you do this?"

Logan practically growled and it was only with a huge effort that he kept himself from lunging at the athlete. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but was interrupted by Julian, who'd finally had enough. The actor sighed irritably as he took one step towards his two friends.

"Guys—"

"What?" Logan and Derek looked around at once—both their expressions deeply annoyed and absolutely livid.

Julian stopped walking and scowled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Keep it calm, you idiots."

Derek pressed his lips together in a tight line and he turned towards his best friend, pointing to Logan angrily. "He tried to kill you, Julian!"

"And he also saved my guts back there," Julian snapped back, sighing and rubbing his face in exhaustion. "Listen guys—I'm dead tired, we've been driving around for days! And I don't know about you, but I'm drained. So if you two could just stop your little bitch fight, that would be great. Let's sleep now, and you can continue to kill each other later—tomorrow or something. I reallycouldn't care less at this point. Sound like a plan?"

Logan snorted and turned around to look at Derek, raising his eyebrows defiantly. Derek was not amused and he narrowed his eyes at Julian.

"Are you freaking serious, Julian?"

"Listen, Derek! It happened, okay? I don't want to talk about it anymore—I don't want to think about it anymore! I just—" Even though he tried his hardest to uphold the pretence that everything was going to be alright—it was still obvious that he was starting to break down, and Derek's gaze softened when he noticed it.

"Jules—"

"Someone—" the actor's voice almost cracked and he closed his eyes as he tried again. "Someone tried to kill me, someone wants me dead! And I don't know why or how, but—but I know that I'm tired of all of this, and if I don't get any sleep real soon, I'm going to maim something, okay?" Julian's usual haughty composure was showing breaches and he knew this very well, utterlyhated it—but right now, he just wanted to close his eyes and escape all this madness. Even if it only was for the night. Even if it only was for a short moment.

There was a long moment of loaded silence, filled with tension and hate and an unbridled fear for the future.

Logan was the first to break the quiet, and he ignored Derek's furious stare as he patted the gun on his hip and walked toward the largest window in the dusty living room. "I'll keep the first watch, you guys sleep."

The moon was gone for the night and while Logan sat by one of the windows, he looked out over a deserted road and the few, ancient buildings that were still standing on the farm. The feeling of desolation constricted his heart, pressing tightly upon his chest, accompanied by utter loneliness and the conviction of being a complete failure.

If he'd just finished his job, if he'd just... pulled that damn trigger a week ago... he would've been free by now. He would've collected his money and be free.

Logan raked his hands through his hair, his bright eyes fluttering close for a few seconds as he tried to analyze his feelings.

He frowned.

Feelings...?

His heart stuttered for the longest moment and when it finally recovered, its beats were painfully quick, hitting his ribcage in rapid succession. Logan's eyes flew open and he cursed as he dragged his hands over his face.

His medication—

—in his pocket... still in his wet jeans that he'd stripped out of on that rainy day when they'd had to run and be quick and hasty... disregarded in a corner of his house.

Fuck.

No, no, no, no—!

He groaned, doubling over and pressing the palms of his hands against his forehead.

He'd always been a better sniper when he was on the damned medication—more focused, more concentrated, cold-blooded, not distracted by emotions...

Although he utterly, thoroughly hated to take the meds; the fact that he would not have his pills during this chaos was only making things more complicated—and he didn't need things to be more complicated than they already were...

He kept silent for a long time, trying to digest this sudden, unwanted information and convincing himself that he didn't need the pills to make him a good sniper. That he was already good enough, that he'd taken out that Lillian-girl without them, that he'd taken out lots of people without them—

—and he tried to ignore the fact that none of those people had been like Clavell, none of those people had been as experienced, trained, murderous and focused as Clavell...

Lost as he was in his thoughts—Logan jumped up when he heard a stifled moan and he whirled around, his gun ready in his hand as he spied into the darkness of the room. The only thing that moved though was one of the two shadows curled up on the floor.

Derek was still snoring lightly as Julian sat up—and even in the darkness, Logan could see his wide, scared eyes blinking up at him. They stared at each other for a while, before the blond sighed and half-grudgingly patted the space next to him.

"Couldn't sleep?" Logan whispered as Julian kneeled silently besides him.

The actor snorted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he stared out of the window. He shot Logan a scathing look.

"It's sort of difficult to sleep when you know that there's some psycho out there that wants to kill you and the only person awake in this house is the man who had his gun aimed at you not too long ago."

One of Logan's mouth corners twitched up, but he stayed silent, not about to argue that logic.

"Are you okay, though?"

Julian raised his eyebrows, throwing him an incredulous look. "Are you asking about my wellbeing, Your Majesty? I am so honored that you care."

"I have a gun in my hand, Princess," Logan sneered with only a small spark of humor, "don't tempt me."

Making a face, Julian shook his head. "That's just rude."

"Too soon?"

"You were planning on killing me barely a week ago—I'd say it's too soon, yeah."

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the fear that held both of their hearts in its iron grasp, or maybe it was just out of seeking and granting forgiveness—but Logan casually wrapped an arm around Julian's shoulders and the actor leaned into his touch almost gratefully, resting his head on the blond's shoulder and relaxing in the one-armed embrace.

It was almost like old times.

"It's all so messed up," Julian whispered suddenly, arrogance gone for the moment and vulnerable for once. "It's like I'm living in a constant nightmare."

"Yeah... I know that feeling," Logan muttered, eyes still examining the darkness outside, alert for every movement and shadow.

"I mean... Carmen... Carmen is dead," Julian choked with a deep frown. "Why? Why would they shoot her...? She's never done anything wrong..."

Logan shrugged listlessly. "It's not a matter of doing something wrong. I guess she got in the way. Wrong time, wrong place, and all that," he answered quietly, not realizing how cold his own voice sounded and not seeing the horrified look Julian threw his way.

Julian pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "She was—she was like a mother to me, you know? She was... just always there. And now... she's not. And I—I don't... I don't know how to deal with this."

Logan stayed silent, but Julian had expected this; the blond sniper wasn't really the person that could give someone advice on feelings.

The actor sighed and he shifted a bit so he could look up at Logan. "Are you ever going to tell us what happened to you?"

Logan frowned, but did not turn to look at the actor. "What do you mean?"

"Logan, last time I saw you, you were no sniper. When in the world did you turn into an assassin?" Julian lifted his head from Logan's shoulder to stare at him with curious, sepia eyes. "What happened?"

"Well, the meds—"

"Except for the stupid meds. What else happened?"

Logan opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words and failing miserably. He exhaled a trembling sigh and shook his head. "I can't... I can't tell you."

Julian frowned, letting his head fall back on Logan's shoulder. He'd been dreaming about this for so many years—touching Logan, being comfortable with Logan, hugged by Logan... but now, once they'd finally reached that point... he barely felt any butterflies and he didn't feel any different except for maybe a bit calmer. It felt... surreal. Like it was all a dream and once the sun would rise, the two of them would break apart and the moment would be all forgotten.

"Why can't you tell me?" Julian murmured, feeling tired, but not wanting to break this magical spell he found himself in.

"Because."

Julian snorted. "Such a valid reason, Majesty. Really, such flawless argumentation."

"Shut up," Logan snarled, stiffening as he narrowed his eyes in irritation. Next to him, Julian held perfectly still, fearing the blond might withdraw his arm and push him away if he moved wrong. "I don't want to talk about it."

There was a tiny trace of vulnerability in Logan's voice and Julian's expression softened considerably. "Why don't you want to talk about it?"

Logan scoffed, staring out of the window with eyes that didn't see the present but were lingering on the past. He didn't say anything for a couple of minutes and Julian accepted the silence easily, relaxing against the blond's side, his eyelids drooping a little as he felt sleep set in.

"It hurts."

His voice was almost a whisper, a ghosting breath in the night, and Julian first thought that he'd dreamed it—but then Logan exhaled a shaky breath, and the actor knew he'd heard it right.

"Why?"

Logan shifted a bit and he blinked, focusing back on the world outside of the window, remembering he was supposed to stand on watch.

"I can't—I can't remember all of it," he muttered, and Julian was almost surprised that he was actually answering truthfully. But then he remembered Dalton, and how Logan had always been so blunt in his honesty—tactless, mostly, but always honest.

Logan continued with a soft voice. "And I hate that. I hate that I can't remember. Despite what other people seem to think—I don't like to try remembering and find out that there are gaping holes in my memory. Maybe I used to have good friends, maybe I used to be happy and all that—but I don't remember and I will never remember. So what's the point of thinking about it? What's the point of talking about it? I live in the present. Not in the past."

His tone was biting and it was obvious he was hurting over everything he'd lost—even though he didn't remember what it was that he'd lost. People, memories, relationships... all gone, destroyed by the medication he'd taken for years.

"Why do you take your meds now?" Julian asked suddenly, either not aware of the withering glare Logan bestowed upon him or not really caring. "I mean, when you lost so much due to the last meds—why in the world would you take these?"

Logan's voice was ice and ice cold, the edges as sharp as razors and as burning as hellfire when he answered.

"Because I have nothing left to lose."

Julian scowled, but he didn't respond and he didn't press for more information. Deep in thought, he unconsciously snuggled closer to Logan, stifling a yawn as he shifted to get more comfortable. "Thanks, Lo."

Logan raised his eyebrows at the nickname, but he didn't protest. "For what?"

"For telling me," Julian whispered sleepily.

"Why would you thank me for that?" Logan asked with a dark laugh.

But Julian didn't answer and when Logan looked around, he saw that the actor's eyes were gently closed and that his lips were parted in relaxation, his soft breaths brushing over Logan's neck.

The sniper snorted derisively, but he didn't move as he adverted his eyes back to outside, his arm still securely around the exhausted brunet, having no intention of letting go.

Derek awoke with a groan and he rolled over, trying to ignore the strain on his muscles from lying on the floor the entire night. Sunlight poured in from the one open window, poking him in the eyes, and he scrunched them shut for a moment. Sitting up, he carefully blinked as he let his eyes adjust to the morning sun. His heart jumped when he saw his two friends by the window and he frowned, the fight with Logan yesterday still fresh on his mind. He noticed the way they sat—Logan supporting Julian as the actor leaned against his side, sleeping peacefully for the first time indays—and realized Julian had obviously forgiven Logan.

He got up, silently making his way toward Logan, dropping down beside the blond.

"You didn't wake me up last night, Lo. Did you get any sleep?" Derek asked.

Logan shook his head, eyes bright as ever as he stared outside. "Nah. I figured you guys needed the rest more than I did."

Surprised, Derek raised an eyebrow. "That is... uncharacteristically nice of you..."

Logan scoffed, tearing his stare away from the farm and looking at the athlete coldly. "Thanks so much, Derek."

Derek narrowed his eyes, his gaze shifting away from Logan as he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Look, Logan, about yesterday—"

Logan held one hand up, silencing Derek quickly. "No. No way. I'm not going to do the whole touchy-feeling talk with you, okay? Last night was bad enough with Julian. Let's just forget about it.Please."

Derek snickered, taking Logan's outstretched hand and shaking it roughly. "But just so you know—ever pull such a trick again and you're dead."

Green eyes stared at him skeptically and Logan shrugged carelessly. He knew who'd win in a fight. "Duly noted," he replied sarcastically.

The athlete leaned back on his hands, glancing at Julian, who was still fast asleep on Logan's shoulder. "So... what did happen last night?"

Logan shrugged again, careful to not wake the actor up. "Nothing happened. We just talked about the mess we're in now. He had trouble sleeping."

Derek raised his eyebrows and smirked as he stared at the brunet. "Hm. I see you solved that problem well..."

"Shut up, Derek," Logan snapped and he withdrew his arm, effectively waking Julian, who collapsed onto the floor without the support.

"Hm—what?" Julian startled awake and he yawned widely as he stretched out like a cat. He sat up, looking at his two friends in slight confusion. "What's going on—?"

Derek grinned at him and his voice was saccharine sweet as he asked, "Good morning to you, too, sunshine. And Jules—how'd you sleep last night? With Logan and all that?"

That statement woke him up more than anything else could and Julian gave his best friend a warning glare behind Logan's back, making a slashing movement over his throat as Derek continued to stare innocently at him.

"Didn't you two have something to kill each other over?" the actor snapped irritably, just as his phone buzzed loudly. He retrieved it from his pocket, glancing at the ID and sighing as he recognized it. He stood up, gesturing to his phone. "One minute, I have to take this. It's Clark."

As he walked away, he whacked Derek's head hard just for good measure, warning Derek with a dark glare not to blab about anything. "I will call every ex and girlfriend you have going around if you talk, Siegerson," he hissed sharply.

"What was that about?" Logan asked, half-amused as he watched Derek rub the back of his head.

"Nothing," Derek muttered, raising his voice as he added, "just Julian being his prissy diva-self again." Julian glared over his shoulder and poked out his tongue, before he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him with a loud slam.

Standing in the old hallway, Julian pressed the button and brought the phone to his ear.

"Hi Clark."

"Julian!" Clark exclaimed, and he didn't take long to flood the stunned actor with a waterfall of words. "What the hell happened? Your name is all over the freaking tabloids! They're talking about you being on the run, you being dead, you being a freaking criminal. Here, wait, I have today's newspaper: 'Julian Larson, celebrated movie star, has been seen on the run from the police today. He's been seen shooting at them, actually hurt—"

"Oh my god, Clark—you actually believe that?" Julian interrupted him angrily, his free hand trailing over the battered walls as he wandered further in the dark house.

"I don't know what to believe anymore, J! Carmen is dead—did you know that? They found her on the stairs at your apartment, where, by the way, a lot of blood was found too—care to explain that one? And you are gone, Julian. Where the hell are you? What happened?"

"—Clark—"

"I've tried to call you at least ten times, Cam tried to call you— but you never answered and we're worried out of our minds, and fuck, we just lost Marcia—we can't lose you too! Where are you?What the hell is happening? Why is Carmen dead? Why was there a crime scene at your place? Why are you gone? Where the fuck are you—?"

Julian stopped walking, leaning against an old, tattered wall as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in growing aggravation. He let Clark rage until he was out of breath and when there was nothing left to hear but the popstar's heavy panting, Julian exhaled sharply.

"Done now?"

"Where are you, Julian? The tabloids are already discussing your fucking death! Have you any idea how freaked out I was when I read about you being dead?"

"Yes, yes, I know—"

"No, you don't! Tell me where you are!"

"If you'd just let me talk for one moment!" Julian spat out, annoyed and frustrated because he knew he couldn't tell Clark everything. "I'm with Derek and Logan, and I'm fine. I'm very much alive and I intent to stay that way. I'm not hurt, I'm just somewhere with my friends."

"But what are you doing? Carmen is d—"

"I know Carmen is dead!" Julian yelled, tears pricking behind his eyes as he rested his head against the wall. "I know that, Clark—" he took a deep breath, trying to control those raging emotions inside. "Everything's going to be alright, okay? Just don't believe the freaking tabloids and, please, don't call me again, okay? I just... need some space."

"Julian—"

"Clark—"

"C'mon, J..."

"Clark—for once in your life—please trust me on this one, okay?" Julian had walked to a window and as he was staring outside, he thought he saw a cloud of dust on the road. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to see better, but it was too far away to get a clear view.

Unaware of Julian's current occupation, Clark continued his plea. "Come back, Julian."

"Why are you so concerned anyway, St. Clark?" Julian asked, pretending to be amused even though his heart started racing watching the cloud of dust. It seemed to move closer...

"Because you're an idiot who can't take care of himself."

Julian scoffed, ripping the old dusty curtain from the rails and throwing it on the ground, wiping the window as clean as he could with his sleeve. He pressed his face against the dirty glass, wondering... The cloud of dust was definitely moving closer. "I can take care of myself perfectly, thank you very much."

"Yeah, you just don't. I haven't forgotten about that time years ago, with the cigarettes and the extreme weight-loss," Clark stated dryly. "Come home, Julian. We'll take care of whatever it is."

Julian's eyes widened as the sun fell exactly right, its beams shimmering off shining metal, and he could see the sharp outline of cars through the dust. He could barely hide his panic as he clenched the phone tighter. "Listen, Clark—I have to go—"

"Julian!"

"Clark, I really have to go," Julian choked and he was already running back to Derek and Logan. "I'll see you later, okay? Bye!" And before Clark could say anything else, Julian had ended the call and he was rushing back to Logan and Derek.

Derek and Logan were in a deep, serious conversation—both looking concentrated and focused as Logan's brows crossed at something Derek confided him... but their last sentences got brutally cut off when Julian burst in—the ancient door falling off its hinges and crashing to the floor—the actor panting as he stopped in front of his two best friends.

The two startled and looked up at once, Derek staring at Julian in complete surprise and shock, Logan's expression more composed as if he'd expected this to happen. The blond's hand went immediately to his gun and his sharp gaze was calculated as he took in the distressed brunet.

Julian's eyes were wide with fear, his breath trembling as he tried to remain composure, but he pointed to where he came from with a shaking finger, his words cutting through the thick silence that had fallen between the trio.

"They're here."

Derek's expression turned into one of utter horror, but Logan was already moving; leaping up and flying to his bag—and time seemed to slow down as Julian let out a shaky breath.

"They've found us."

#gunsightfic #daltonfic #jogan

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gunsightfic-blog · 13 years ago

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Chapter 8: On The Run

And we're back to the present and the present only. Just so I know for sure we're on the same page (under read more for possible spoilers):

Logan is aware of the fact that Julian has had a stalker in the past, he just doesn't know the details and he certainly doesn't know that the stalker was Adam Clavell. He knows nothing about the story behind Julian and Adam, and so he has no idea he's working for Julian's mental fanboy-stalker. Julian doesn't know that Logan works for Adam Clavell. And Adam Clavell knows Julian loves Logan, because of those letters he found.

The grey clouds that gathered in the darkening sky, the cutting rain that was pouring down—it was nothing in comparison to the livid expression on Logan's face. His eyes were green flashes of lightning, their troubled depths brimming with a blazing, searing fury that frightened Julian.

Logan had grabbed one of Julian's wrists and his fingers were digging in the actor's skin as they ran through the deserted streets, their chests heaving, their breaths heavy and difficult, their legs forced to move until they were dead and lifeless—and still they ran on.

It was a dark and cold autumn day. Leaves, torn from their trees, were flying around in the wind, most of them landing on the muddy streets, being trampled on by the few people walking there. The wind was streaking through the sky, loud and cutting and freezing.

The first tinges of pink filtered through the dark clouds, introducing the falling night. Julian and Logan were soaked to the skin, their thin clothes clinging to their bodies, their hair dripping and plastered to their cheeks and foreheads.

They'd run for ages before Logan pushed the both of them into a narrow alley, yanking his hand from Julian's wrist and turning his back on him as he punched the concrete wall—the tight skin around his knuckles bursting open and spilling blood.

"Goddamnit," he growled between gasps of breath, and Julian's wide eyes followed him cautiously. "God-fucking-damnit." He turned around, using the wall as support as he closed his eyes and exhaled fiercely.

Julian's sneaker made a squeaky sound as he slowly took a few steps back—his eyes never leaving the blond who was leaning against the wall with a tired expression—his chest heaving as he tried to control his ragged breathing.

Green eyes flew open at the sound, but Logan made no other movement as he silently stared at the shivering actor, taking in the wide, sepia eyes that gazed up at him with fear and wariness. Pressing his lips in a tight line, the sniper tilted his head, ignoring the drenched strands of blond hair that dangled in his piercing eyes.

"You're cold," he stated quietly. There was no sympathy in his tone, but it wasn't emotionless either—he only seemed to say it to break the deafening silence.

Julian narrowed his eyes and shook his head, repressing another shiver. He glared at Logan vehemently, so many emotions whirling inside of him—fear, fury, horror, caution, everything—that it left him speechless. He was too stunned, too numb to say anything, so he continued to stare at the blond. He wished that he felt enough to at least scream at Logan. Or to punch him. God, he wanted to punch Logan so badly.

But the memory of the barrel staring him coldly in the face was still terribly fresh... and he was scared.

"I don't..." Julian's voice was hoarse and he had to clear his throat and try again. "I don't understand. You were..." he closed his eyes as the memories leaped at him—the barrel, dark, menacing, the dangerous green eyes, the sharp click of the gun as it was cocked... The mortal fear that had ripped through him viciously, determined to destroy everything inside of him.

Logan didn't feel the rain anymore, staring listlessly as Julian cringed.

When sepia eyes opened, they were smoldering with unknown emotions.

"You were going to shoot me," Julian croaked, feeling sick to his stomach. "You were going to shoot me." And only now did he realized that he could've been dead, only now did that horrible, terrible realization penetrate his mind and it twisted his heart in a tight, painful knot.

Logan rolled his eyes and snorted, gazing at Julian with a cold and emotionless expression. "I obviously failed to do that, didn't I?" he sneered irritably. "So no need to be all dramatic."

Adrenaline shot through Julian's veins—all the fear, the shock and dread flooding away in a second—and instead of restless sepia, Julian's eyes were now a blazing, scorching-hot, darkest of brown. His fingers curled in tight fists and he rounded on Logan so fast, the blond shot backwards in surprise, the back of his head colliding painfully with the brick wall.

"No need to be all dramatic?" Julian repeated, his voice a dark, sharp hiss as he stood on his tiptoes to tower over Logan, his finger drilling in his chest as he spat out a stream of profanities. "You were going to shoot me and you tell me not to be dramatic?" his words—practically screamed now—echoed through the alley, shooting over the loud noise of the rain, and Logan's eyes widened as he took in the furious actor.

"I could've been DEAD," Julian roared, his eyes narrowed to slits, his lips curled up in a feral snarl. "YOU COULD'VE KILLED ME!"

Logan leaped forwards, and in a movement as fast as a striking snake, he'd pinned Julian to the wall, a hand clasped firmly over his mouth. Julian struggled, furious and afraid again, but to no avail—Logan was too strong for him.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Logan hissed, his eyes darting through the alley, afraid someone might have heard them, afraid Clavell's men might have heard them. "Keep your fucking mouth shut or they'll find—"

He closed his eyes in aggravation as he was interrupted by the loud wail of sirens of police cars that rushed down the streets, passing by their dark alley with a backbreaking speed.

"Now you've done it," Logan growled, finally releasing Julian.

Julian scoffed and squinted to get a better view on Logan in the heavy rainfall. "What the hell is wrong with you, Logan? What the hell happened to you? Why were you trying to—" he fell quiet as realization dawned on him and Julian stood paralyzed for a few seconds, his eyes huge, his lips parted in absolute amazement.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he breathed, almost afraid to hear the answer, his voice so soft that Logan had to lean in to hear him properly. "That time... when I almost got shot... that was you, wasn't it?"

Logan's heart grew cold as he watched the utterly stunned expression adorning Julian's face—but he covered it up with a roll of his eyes, and he rubbed his face, absolutely done with this conversation. "Listen, Julian, we have to move. Those people who want you dead—it's not me you've got to worry about, okay? Not anymore, at least. But those people—they want us dead, and they're going to follow us, and they're good at tracking people."

"Why should I trust you?" Julian bristled.

"Because I'm the only one you've got right now!" Logan hissed, trying not to scream, but feeling like he should just to cram the information in the stubborn actor's head. "For fuck's sake, you jumped out of a window when I asked you, why won't you just trust me now?"

"You tried to fucking kill me!"

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Logan growled as he moved forward yet again, his hand clashing painfully with Julian's teeth when he clasped it in front of his mouth. "Shut up, do you want them to find us?"

Julian mumbled something unintelligible against the palm of Logan's hand, and he roughly shook the blond off. "Fine—since you got me into this mess—"

"Trust me," Logan muttered fiercely. "You'd have gotten into a bigger mess if it hadn't been me he hired."

"What? What do you mean? You're hired? What the—"

"Please, Julian. What motive could I possibly have to shoot you?" Logan asked him, completely aggravated. "I don't even fucking know you! I'm just a hired sniper."

"You actually get paid for shooting me?"

"Yes. But, obviously, I'm a miserable mess who can't even shoot you even though you're only a foot away and completely vulnerable."

"You can't...?" Julian raised his eyebrows, leaning back to gaze at the blond skeptically.

Logan scowled, his eyes glistening madly as he clenched his jaw. "No—obviously—I can't. But if he'd hired someone else, you'd probably be dead by now, so trust me and just do what I say already."

"Wait—who's 'he'?" Julian asked, confused and uncertain as Logan grabbed his elbow and yanked him forward.

"C'mon, we have to move. And you wouldn't know him. He's just some asshole who wants you dead. No idea why, I just kind of went with it."

"You kind of—but why would someone want me dead?" the actor was dead-scared now, and it showed as Logan dragged him forth, nearly carrying Julian as his legs didn't seem to work anymore.

"Like I said, I have no fucking clue—now, would you move already?" Logan muttered an inaudible curse. "I'm glad it's raining at least—it'll be harder to spot us. Or to aim."

"Aim...?"

"Yeah, with guns, you have to aim."

The sarcasm in Logan's voice went unnoticed to Julian, who gripped his hair in desperation. "Jesus. This is fucking crazy, what the hell happened...?"

Logan smirked darkly, peering through the rain as he carefully chose his way through the narrow alleys. "Welcome to my world."

The rain was still steadily falling from the black clouds, and the two boys were mere shadows as they crept through the streets, alert for every movement, every light, every sound. The moon was gone and the streetlights were fervently cursed by Logan, who'd been happy with the absence of the moon, but who'd turned vicious by the sight of the street lanterns.

"Where are we going, Logan?" Julian hissed, annoyed and freezing as they stalked through the night—hugging his body as he tried to get warm.

"To my place."

Puzzled, Julian whipped his head around, staring at the blond. "Why? Isn't it kind of obvious that we'll go there? Won't they find us?"

"Yes, it will be obvious," Logan retorted impatiently, temper flaring up again. "But I don't really care, because I need some stuff and my place is the only one where I can get that stuff."

Julian opened his mouth to reply, but Logan inhaled sharply all of a sudden and pushed the both of them behind a car.

"What the hell—"

"Shut up," Logan hissed, his bright green eyes staring intently at one of the small houses. "There is someone knocking on my front door—shit."

"What?" Julian lifted his head and peeked through the window of the black Mercedes. He scoffed when he took in the scene and shook his head in irritation. "That is Derek, you idiot."

It was Derek, and he was frantically pounding on the door, yelling for someone to open it. Logan breathed in relief, recognizing his old high school friend, and he crawled from behind the car, grabbing Julian's sleeve and tugging him with along.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Logan asked confused, as they ran over the street, staying as much in the shadows as they could.

Julian gazed up at the house—which wasn't big, but was still a house—and he shook his head in bewilderment, distracted for a small moment. "You have a whole house for you alone...? That is so... you, Your Majesty."

"Oh, ha ha," Logan sneered. "You're so hilarious."

The rain was still relentlessly beating down on them when they caught up with Derek, who was just as soaked as they were. The athlete turned around with wide eyes when he heard them arriving and he immediately dashed to Julian.

"Jules! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Jesus Christ," he pulled the shocked actor in a tight embrace and Julian, not really sure what was happening, patted him awkwardly on his back.

"Ehm... D? Are you alright...? Derek—what are you doing?" Julian asked, completely confused as Derek continued to hug him. He gazed at Logan from his peripheral vision and as he'd expected, the blond sniper was looking at them in annoyance, not wanting this reunion to mess up their time schedule.

"Derek!"

At last, Derek pulled away, but his hands were still gripping Julian's shoulders and his eyes were huge and scared and sad.

"Carmen's dead," he choked out bluntly, and the words hit Julian square in the chest. He would've stumbled backwards if it weren't for Derek, who was holding him tightly, looking him straight in the eyes.

"What...?" Julian breathed, his voice trembling. He heard Logan curse vehemently and the metallic clatter of keys shattered the silence. "Derek..."

Derek swallowed and shut his eyes, the horrible images flying through his mind all over again. "It was... she was... I went to visit you, and I drove to your apartment—but when... when I entered the building—" he broke off, his hands shaking as his fingers dug into Julian's wet clothes. "She was bleeding so much. She was lying on the stairs—and god, the blood—and—and—it looked like she was shot, Jules! Who would do that? Who would shoot Carmen—I... I called the cops..."

He was almost in tears by now and it was a strange sight to see the usually composed athlete so distressed and confused. Julian—actions mechanical, feeling drained and exhausted—gathered his best friend in another hug.

Time had stopped. The world had stopped turning.

Because this was not happening.

This could not be happening.

Carmen had been like his second mother—always there to help, always there to sort out his mess...

These kind of things only happened in movies and in books... These kind of things only happened to him when he was playing someone else... It didn't happen to him—not to Julian Larson.

Logan coughed and it effectively broke the silence, shattering the numbness that was holding Julian in its grasp.

"Guys—I don't want to be rude and destroy this touchy moment—but we've got to move, okay?" he snapped, briskly stroking his soaked hair out of his face. "Carmen's already dead and if you don't want to join her, we have to go."

Derek, who was still holding onto the actor, turned around to face Logan. "There was blood in the kitchen, too. Did you—"

Logan sighed impatiently, motioning with his key to his house. "Let's get inside, change into some dry clothes and talk about this later, okay?" He received a withering glare from Julian, but he didn't pay further attention to it as he raised his eyebrows defiantly and stalked into his house.

"Are you okay?" Derek asked before they followed Logan, his gaze fixed on his friend, terrified of the current situation. "I don't understand, Jules, what's happening?"

"There's—" Julian cleared his throat, leveling his stare to the muddy ground and as he looked up again he was blinded by the rain for a moment. "There's this person—who wants me dead—"

"What?" Derek hissed.

Julian wanted to tell him what Logan had done, that Logan had held a gun, that Logan had aimed a gun at him... that Logan had almost pulled the trigger... But it wasn't the right time nor the right place, and Julian sighed wearily, running his hands through his wet hair.

"Let's go inside," he muttered, nudging Derek's shoulder as he moved to walk in the small house.

Logan was a hurricane as he darted from closet to closet, trying to fill a bag with more weapons than Derek and Julian had ever seen, leaving the two best friends absolutely astounded as they watched the blond pack hastily.

"Jesus, Logan, when did you get all of these?" Derek asked breathlessly, his eyes glued to one of the many guns.

Logan ignored him, snatching some clothes out of a closet and throwing them to the two other men. "Here, change into some dry clothes."

But Derek shook his head. "I have my own clothes in my car, I was planning on sleeping at Jules' place before... well... this," he gestured loosely in the air, expression devastated.

"Fine, get your clothes now. Julian—you change into these," Logan urged impatiently, gesturing to the heap of clothes on the floor.

Julian nodded stiffly, wiping the rain off his face, and picked them up slowly. "Do you have a towel?"

Logan rolled his eyes. "Of course I have a towel," he grabbed one and threw it towards the brunet who didn't catch it, because he was watching as Derek walked out of the house to pick up his dry clothes from his car.

"Julian," Logan snapped his fingers. "A little tempo, okay?"

The actor sighed and rubbed his face forcefully, before stripping out of his clothes and trying to dry his body as well as he could, honestly not giving a damn about privacy at this point. There was an odd gleam in Logan's eyes as he watched Julian change in front of him and the blond stopped with what he was doing for a moment.

"Did you tell Derek?" he asked, and Julian looked up in surprise at his subdued tone.

"No, I didn't. Not yet, at least. I'm going to tell him later," there was a sharpness in the actor's words—an edge that warned Logan not to challenge him this time, warning Logan that Julian wouldtell Derek everything.

Logan nodded, feeling a strangely warm tug on his heart as Julian pulled his sweatshirt over his head, the baggy shirt falling over his hips and his fingertips. The actor made a face at it.

"It's too big."

Huffing derisively, Logan tore his eyes away from the actor—who was now only wearing Logan's sweatshirt—and waved in the air irritably. "You'll have to live with it, Princess, I'm sorry my clothes don't live up to your expectations."

Julian cursed silently, stepping into the baggy jeans. "Oh, shut up, you asshole," he snapped, just as Derek came walking back, his hair dripping with fresh raindrops.

"Could you two stop fighting, please?" he asked exasperated, dropping his soaked bag onto the ground and crossing his arms sternly as he took in his two friends. "Tell me what's going on."

"Derek—" Julian hesitated, turning around to look at him with a pleading expression.

"No, Jules," Derek retorted angrily, "Carmen is dead—" Julian flinched, "—there was blood in your kitchen, Logan has suddenly an arsenal of weapons, and you look like you've seen a ghost! What the fuck is going on?"

Logan and Julian looked at each other and after a few moments of silent consideration, Logan sighed and shook his head in surrender. The sniper spread his arms and shook his hands, droplets flying everywhere.

"We'll talk about it when we're in dry clothes and moving away from this place," he muttered reluctantly, and when Derek narrowed his eyes at him, he added, "I promise."

Dark eyes narrowed as Clavell slowly walked through Julian's apartment. The police cars in which he and his men had arrived were parked messily outside and his people were standing around them, showing every sign of investigating the matter, showing every sign of being actual cops...

...even when they weren't.

But he'd lost one.

One of his most reliable men. Killed by none other than Logan Wright.

Snarling, Clavell kicked a table and it crashed to the floor with a resounding noise. He paced through the rooms, his hands tugging on his hair in anger and frustration. They'd been so close. So damned close. But everything had fallen apart with one act of disobedience.

He yanked a closet open, trailing his fingers over his Julian's clothes. He swore he could smell that distinctive aroma of the actor right now, filling his nostrils and calming him down. He smiled sadly, imagining those beautiful sepia eyes that had always stared up at him with so much friendship so many years ago.

So many years ago...

It had been too long...

It was time for them to be together. Forever. Unconsciously, Clavell raked his hand over the bag hanging from his shoulder, the weapons hidden inside rattling quietly.

His heart clenched harshly as he thought about killing Julian, about murdering his Julian. But he simply had to. He had to... in order for them to be together. And even though the simple thought of hurting Julian made bitter bile rise up, he knew—he knew—that he had to do this, that he had to carry out this one, last, horrible deed.

They had to be happy together.

Clavell turned around and when he looked up, he saw a glance of his own reflection in the mirror. He smirked as his black eyes twinkled madly. Then he wheeled around resolutely and walked out of Julian's apartment, a feeling of excitement surging through him.

He was ready to continue living in the next world.

It would be a hell of a lot more happy than here.

#gunsightfic #daltonfic #jogan

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gunsightfic-blog · 13 years ago

Text

Chapter 7: Free Falling

Past

Over the next few weeks, Julian noticed some changes about his newest friend. Changes he didn't really know how to deal with. Adam grew more possessive—obviously jealous when the actor wasn't hanging out with him, obviously chagrined when the actor wasn't paying attention to him. It was kind of unsettling to realize that the sweet, kind, compassionate boy Julian had gotten used to, was now growing into something the actor couldn't quite understand.

They were at Adam's place when it all escalated. Julian had just wrapped up a tiring day filled with interviews and long talks to reporters and paparazzi regarding his newest movie. Adam had offered him a place to escape to, since no one really knew the actor was hanging out with him, so no one would suspect him of being here.

As the actor plopped down on the couch, Adam stood in the middle of the room, merely watching him, his gaze so intense and devoted it made Julian feel a little bit awkward.

He patted the space besides him, sepia eyes carrying an oddly calculated look as they glanced at the boy. He'd been acting weirder the past few weeks. "Why don't we watch a movie, Adam?"

Seeming to come out of his trance, Adam shook his head lightly and smiled. "Yeah—that would be nice. Which one do you want to watch?" he walked to the television, giving Julian a questioning look.

The actor waved his hand through the air. "I don't really care. As long as it doesn't have me in it."

Staring at his stack of DVDs, Adam bit his lips—wondering if he actually had something that didn't star Julian Larson. "Uhm... Sure," he sighed in relief when he found a movie that was so old, Julian had been too young to play in any movies at that time. "Romance is good?"

"Romance is fine."

Adam jammed the DVD in its place, his heart flying through his entire body in his thrilled excitement. He was going to watch a romantic movie with Julian Larson. He was going to watch aromantic movie with Julian Larson. Once the DVD was in and he'd pressed play, he scrambled up from his kneeling position and hurried to the couch, flicking off the lights on his way.

He tried to stay still through the opening credits—he honestly tried to stay still—but, almost unconsciously, he started to scoot closer to the actor, not noticing how Julian threw him a bewildered look when he practically leaned against him when the first love-scenes played out.

The lights of the television created illuminating shadows of strange, flickering colors that threw themselves across the dark room, shimmering over the two boys on the couch, wrapping them in an oddly unreal world in which only they and the movie existed.

Julian felt uncomfortable.

Adam felt absolutely, positively thrilled.

Carefully, he laid a hand on Julian's knee, butterflies spreading their million wings as he felt Julian's warmth radiate through his palm. He gazed at the actor, noticing how his jaw was clenched and his eyes stubbornly set on the movie—and he smiled quietly. He would have to be careful. But wasn't he always? Always cautious not to hurt Julian, or not to scare him away—because, how many of those creeps must this beautiful boy have had that wanted to claim him for themselves? It must have been dozens... Adam was just really glad none of them had succeeded and that they were together now, and that Julian finally saw that they belonged like this. Together.

The man and the woman in the movie—and why did it always have to be a man and a woman, Adam thought hastily, because what they had, what Julian and he had, was love, too—they tenderly clutched each other's hands, gazing into the other's eyes with a loving look that Adam could not bear to look at.

He wanted to share such a look...

He glanced sideways to the actor, whose eyes were still glued to the movie, even though Adam doubted he was really watching it.

He scooted closer just a little bit more.

Julian turned around, eyes tingling with an emotion that could've been annoyance—but what changed upon seeing Adam's longing, devoted, passionate, loving look. A look he had been waiting toreceive for so many years.

Adam smiled, and they bowed their heads closer.

When the man and the woman on the movie clashed together in a passionate kiss—the two boys on the couch let their lips touch tenderly, their kiss surprisingly soft and sweet and gentle.

Adam let go of Julian's knee to reach up and cup his face, angling his head so he could deepen the kiss.

The kiss had two opposite effects, though.

While Julian's heart melted, his entire body relaxing with the knowledge that apparently he was worth these kind of looks, and that these kind of looks and this affection could be given to him—Adam's heart expanded and exploded with a love so great and so intense and so enormous, that it drove him quite literally insane.

His mind seemed to be constructed out of a thousand tiny radars and Julian's kiss and his fingers that laid gently on Adam's arm and leg had triggered them into movement—making all those radars spin and wheel around smoothly, loosening some emotion that had been hidden deep inside of him. And all he could think of, all that was racing through his head, were three simple words.

He is mine.

Slow caresses and gentle tenderness were suddenly thrown aside, and his fingers dug into Julian's clothes, dragging the actor closer, his mind paying no attention to the fact that Julian's hands were planted firmly against his chest—not in affection, not to pull him closer, but in a desperate act to push him away.

Adam's fingers were drilling in his skin, the power of his grasp constricting the blood flow in his arms, and Adam's teeth were raking over Julian's lips and face—and it was too much, too fast, too rough to be comfortable.

"Adam—" Julian mumbled against teeth and lips, and he pushed harder, but the boy was too strong and it was hopeless, and he was beginning to feel hopeless, and he just wanted to get out of here.

"Adam, please—"

Adam pulled back the tiniest bit, leaving a space just big enough to speak properly. "I know, I know," he brought a hand up to stroke a stray brown lock of hair from Julian's forehead. His eyes were smoldering coals as he leaned forwards again, his lips hovering over Julian's, his whispering words fierce and sharp, cutting through the air like swords. "I know, Julian. I'm so happy you finally saw this, saw us, like I've been seeing us for months—for years..."

"Adam..." a growing panic settled in his heart, and his eyes were wide as he stared at the boy—an absolute stranger now—in utter disbelief. "Adam... don't..."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Julian—I'll never hurt you..." his lips crashed to Julian's, and the actor moaned in protest and a blinding fear—but Adam interpreted it all wrong, and when Julian tried to kick him off, they rolled over and fell off the couch with a loud bang.

Turning his head to the side, Julian gasped for air, his hands furiously trying to lift Adam's heavy body off of his—but dear God, why was he so strong? "Adam, Adam—what are you doing? Why are you doing th—"

Adam grabbed his face, turning it to him again, effectively shutting him up. "Don't be afraid, Julian."

Sepia eyes grew wide with fear as he saw a strange emotion shimmer in those dark coals of Adam—a fierce emotion that was crazy, insane, driven mad by love and devotion and obsession...

"Adam..." he whispered, not able to speak properly because of the hold Adam had on his jaw. "What happened..."

"You happened... Don't you see it?" Adam's face split into a brilliant smile—and for one small moment, Julian could see that boy again, sweet, patient, loving—but then Adam narrowed his eyes and the insanity returned. The insanity that may have been there all along—lingering, lurking, waiting for the right time to break free in all its frightening glory.

Adam's touches hurt him—the way he was straddling him was not right, his knees jotting into Julian's sides forcefully, Adam's hands tearing over his body like it was his already.

Julian had never felt this powerless, he had never ever felt this out of control of his own body. But then there was a gap—just this split second that Adam leaned back to let his eyes wander over the actor's body with that mad, obsessive expression—and Julian shot forward, unbalancing the fanboy, his knee coming up to slam hard in between Adam's legs.

Adam yelled in pain, rolling off Julian with his hands clutching his crotch, and Julian scrambled up, tripping and stumbling as he ran from the room, nearly breaking the door in his haste to go outside. He didn't wait for the elevator, but immediately dashed off the stairs—tripping and falling several times—and his cheeks were streaked with tears of panic and fear, and he felt dirty as he made his way outside the building, well aware of the thundering footsteps behind him that were Adam's.

He slammed the door of the building shut, and sprinted out, his eyes huge and his breathing ragged and wild. His heart was absolutely hysterical, fluttering so fiercely it actually hurt his chest.

After a few minutes of running thoughtlessly—just running, just getting away from that creep—he realized he wasn't running to his own house... but to Derek's.

A sob escaped him as he rang the bell impatiently, only now noticing it was drizzling gently, the soft rain laying a coat of droplets over his hair, face and clothes. He'd forgotten to bring along his jacket and he was cold.

Derek's voice crackled through the intercom, and Julian practically flung himself at the device, his hands clawing in the wall as he frantically searched the roads for that familiar figure.

"Derek—it's me. You have to let me in. Please let me in—you have to help me!" he was hysterical now, throwing out words, choking on his breath, his fingers curling into tight fists. His heart plummeted when he thought about what so easily could have happened. "Help me..."

"Jules? Jules! What the hell happened? Wait—come inside. Now."

There was a low, buzzing sound, and without hesitation, Julian pushed the door open, closed it securely, and darted up the stairs.

Present

The three men looked up as Logan stepped in the room, sly grins playing around their lips as they straightened up from their crouches. One of the men—big, muscled, dark, clearly in charge—stepped forward with a cunning expression in his beetle-like eyes, his fingers tapping almost casually on the gun hanging on his hip.

"Logan Wright, I assume?"

Logan narrowed his eyes, his gaze flickering to the faces of the men, occasionally glancing down to their weapons and the hands hovering over them.

"Who are you?"

The dark man smirked, his white teeth forming a stark contrast with his dark skin, and his eyes glinted dangerously. "Clavell sent us. Apparently," he narrowed his eyes, "you've been acting disobedient."

Logan's heart dropped, and his eyes swiveled from the kitchen door and back to the three men staring at him. He raised an eyebrow arrogantly, lifting his chin and crossing his arms over his chest. "So why are you here?"

The dark man's grin got wider and he pulled out his gun in a quick movement, waving it casually to Logan. "We've been told to kill you if you don't finish your job."

"Finish my job?" Logan got cold, knowing exactly what they were expecting from him. Sure enough, one of the other two men stepped forward now—blond, short, eyes piercing through the sniper like they could see everything.

"Kill the actor."

The dark man looked around sharply, not appreciating the fact that the other man had spoken before him. "Briggs, back off. I got this."

The blond man—Briggs—narrowed his eyes at him, but obeyed easily, obviously trained to do so.

Logan lifted his eyebrows in surprise, glancing at the gun pointed to him before gazing in narrowed dark eyes. "What? Now? I have to kill him now?"

"If you know what good is for you—yes," the dark man smiled menacingly, raking the fingers of his free hand over his gun. "And if you do not do so—we'll finish the job. Of course, you'll understand that we can't let you live when we've killed Larson."

Logan bit his lip, looking back to the kitchen door and wishing with all his heart that Julian wasn't about to be stupid and step out of that room. His eyes fell on a window, and as he looked outside, he saw the ever-existing paparazzi there—hidden between bushes, behind buildings, umbrellas protecting their expensive cameras and sound-systems against the steadily drizzling rain. His stomach churned in frustration.

"Of course I'll kill him," he fired back. "I just don't think you understand how this works." His voice was a hissed whisper—angry, but afraid to alert Julian in the kitchen. He wondered if the brunet was hearing this conversation and whether he was thinking of a way to escape. "I can't just storm in there and pull my gun—look at what is outside. All of that paparazzi, all of those people, they won't miss it! I'll be fucking screwed if they catch it on tape—you'll be screwed when they catch it on tape. Let's just take this easy and think it a bit through, guys."

The dark man didn't smile, didn't waver, didn't even blink. He cocked his gun and aimed it at Logan's head. "Go in there now. If we don't hear a gunshot in the next five minutes, you're both dead," his voice was low and dangerous. "Your choice, Wright." He nodded at the other two men, standing behind him like guards. "These two here are Briggs and Stokes. They have a record of twenty murders each. Won't suggest you to anger them. Or me, for that matter."

Logan had to do his best not to snort. They all knew he had more on his record than anyone in this room. "Fine," he said after only a brief moment of hesitation. "But I assure you that you willnot have to barge in there like the primitive cavemen you are," he added coldly, eyes shooting fire. "I'll finish it myself."

He turned around stiffly and walked in the kitchen, slamming the door shut with a resounding bang.

Julian looked up at him with bored, brown eyes, leaning against the counter lazily as he cocked an eyebrow. "And? You sent them out? It sounded like you were having a bit of an argument in there."

Logan exhaled slowly, green eyes gazing in brown as he let his hand travel to his gun.

"Logan—what the hell are you doing?"

His fingers clenched around cold metal, and without another thought, he pulled his gun, aiming it right at Julian.

Past

Adam was furious as he raced behind Julian out of the building, stopping dead when the door clicked shut behind him. It was cold outside, his breath coming out in white puffs of air. His dark eyes roamed the streets, uncertain of which way the actor had left.

Why would he do that in the first place? Why would he run?

Shaking his head shortly, Adam decided to visit Julian's apartment first, and he proceeded to sprint down the road, catching a bus just in time so he could get there quickly. The bus ride was a hell—way too slow, way too many stops. But when he was finally there, he dashed out of the vehicle and made his way to the actor's apartment. There was paparazzi scattered around the place, as usual, but they didn't pay him attention as he yanked the door open and ran inside.

The door was opened easily enough, having nicked Julian's keys out of his coat that he'd left hanging. Adam felt a sharp pang of frustration and bitter disappointment as he stepped inside and saw that the actor was not here. He must've gone straight to Derek, but Adam had no idea where the athlete lived.

He sighed, a sob catching in his throat and struggling its way out of his mouth.

This was unfair. So, so unfair. He finally had him. He had him. And now... now he had lost him...

He licked his lips, still tasting the fragrance of Julian Larson, the image of him lying beneath him—vulnerable, wide-eyed, absolutely gorgeous—was forever imprinted in his mind and Adam relished in that memory, clutching the fabric over his heart while he thought about it.

Fury bubbled up again as the memory of Julian leaving came up, and Adam stomped further in the room, collapsing on a couch and rubbing his face firmly. While he was sitting there, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands—his eyes fell on a box that was half-hidden behind a chair. Curiosity getting the better of him, he stood up from the couch and crouched in front of the box.

Dozens and dozens of unsent letters—crumpled up, yellow with age, edges torn, and ink splattered all over them—were stacked in there, and Adam's eyes went wide as he carefully took one, folding it open and reading it.

Logan,

I know I haven't contacted you since I left, and I'm sorry. I was just really busy, but... at the moment... I'm not anymore. And I was wondering if maybe we could meet up somewhere? I don't know if you're okay with that. I don't know if you actually care, but...

The rest was crossed out and Adam frowned in confusion, flipping the letter over to see that it was dated only two years ago. He threw the letter aside and picked up another one, eyes sprinting over the neatly written words.

Hi Lo,

I'm sorry I haven't called you back, or answered all your texts. Man, why did you send so many anyway? Anyway... I was thinking that maybe we should see each other again? Maybe we could meet again? I know you're still at Dalton, Derek told me. But maybe...

Again, the rest was crossed out so thickly that the words had become unreadable. The date resembled the last one, and Adam dropped the letter to the ground and chose another one from the disturbingly large pile. This one looked rather new, whiter than the others, less torn than the others—and it was with his heart in his throat that Adam read the date first. It was dated less than a year ago. Panic was growing with a striking speed, and his chest hurt with the sharp breaths he took.

John Logan Wright III,

I'm bi. I've known since I was 13. I've loved you since I was 14. I've loved you since I've first laid eyes on you. You probably don't remember. I don't expect you to remember. You don't really care about it anyway. But frankly, I don't care about that. You're a stuck up asshole and I wish I'd never fallen for you. Yes, I hate you. Why don't you just disappear out of my life, okay? Just go. GO AWAY. I hate you so much, Logan. You stupid, stupid asshole. Making me fall in love with you. Stupid, stupid ass.

The rest was unreadable as it was written down ugly and thickly, the words running in to each other messily—obviously written in an undeniably stormy emotional state.

Adam choked and he threw the letter away with force, picking up one that seemed just as new. The date was set only mere months ago, and he read it with a heavy, black heart and a loud buzzing sound in his ears. This one just stated six simple words.

Lo,

I love you.

Forever, Jules

Traitorous tears slid over Adam's cheeks and the letter slipped from his fingers as he looked up at the ceiling, violent sobs tearing from his chest . It hurt. And he felt utterly, thoroughly betrayed. He thought they had something. He thought they had a thing. But apparently, everything was a lie. Apparently, the actor had only used him as a distraction. Adam wasn't dumb. He could see it now.

Those wide eyes hadn't been a plea to go on. They had reflected fear and a plea to stop.

Still... Adam refused to believe that they didn't belong together. Because he knew with all of his heart that they did. They did belong together. They would defy gravity together. They would light up the world together. They would be gorgeous together.

He did believe that.

He wasn't going to stop until Julian saw this, too.

Sighing in disappointment, he hung his head when he realized that the actor would probably be reluctant to share that belief. But that wasn't bad. That was okay. Because Adam believed inheaven, too. And everyone knew that heaven was the place for your dreams to come true—even if they didn't come true in real life, even if they betrayed you on earth.

He stood up from his crouching position, leaving the basket and the letters for what they were, not sparing them a second look.

A serene smile played around his lips, his eyes staring dreamily into space, threads of madness flickering inside of them. He would get them to heaven. He would get them both to heaven. Because... because if he could do that—and he would accomplish it, one way or another—they would finally be together forever. They would be happy together.

Another tear trickled languidly down his cheek, and his smile widened—insane, crazy, wildly in love.

Oh yes... he would get them to heaven.

Present

Upon seeing the gun directed at his face, Julian stumbled backwards against the counter, knocking over pans and glasses that were standing on it. His eyes became huge, nearly swallowing his pale face, sepia gaze fixed motionlessly on the gun. His heart stuttered for a few seconds before rapidly bouncing against his ribcage, as if wildly desperate to get out of here before it was too late. The actor sagged a little, his hands clenching around the edge of the counter so he would not collapse on the floor.

He exhaled shakily, struggling to keep his breathing steady.

Green eyes were like lightening as they stared at the brunet, and they narrowed while Logan's finger curled around the gun, a sharp click echoing through the deadly quiet kitchen as he cocked it.

"Logan—" the whisper—choked out, barely audible, words laced with utter fear and desperation—cut through the silent air, and Julian's shoes made a squeaking sound as he shifted his stance. He stopped dead when the gun followed him with a sharp movement, and Julian's eyes welled with tears, unable to stop them in his blood curling fear.

He'd looked down a barrel before. But never—never ever—had he looked down a barrel that was held by his friend. A friend he'd trusted with his life.

"Logan—" he tried it again with a raspy voice. "What... what are you doing?"

Logan pressed his lips together, well aware of the fact that he was only promised five minutes, and one of them had just been wasted for nothing.

"I'm sorry Julian," he murmured, bringing his finger down to pull the trigger. He pulled it the tiniest fraction of a inch—just not far enough to actually fire the gun—and froze, his heart beating as fast as the wings of a humming-bird. His green eyes fell on brown ones, and he found it physically impossible to pull the trigger completely. He could see it all in his mind—the images of dozens of people shot before Julian—how the actor would exhale his last breath, how he would collapse pathetically, how the blood would splatter all up the walls, how it would create a shiny, red pool on the floor.

Three minutes.

The gun trembled in his hands.

"Lo... What are you doing?" came the ragged whisper again.

Logan looked up, expression tortured and frustrated, and he noticed how all the color had left Julian's face. His lips were pale, his usually flushed cheeks were a chalky white. It looked wrong on him.

His free hand raked through his hair and he closed his eyes for the smallest moment as he aimed the gun again, fully intending to shoot this time, practically begging his finger to just fucking curlthis time.

Sweat was dripping from both Julian and Logan's temples, both eyes were locked together for what seemed like an eternity.

Two minutes.

His mind was utter chaos—thoughts trashing around like wildfire—and Logan exhaled slowly.

Maybe—maybe—he hadn't missed entirely on accident when he'd pulled the trigger on Julian Larson that first time. Maybe he'd fully intended to miss. Intention being buried deep inside, that is, but still... maybe he'd always meant to miss this target.

His eyes widened with this sudden realization. A realization he knew to be true.

He couldn't possibly shoot. He couldn't possibly shoot...

One minute.

Green eyes closed and the gun swung downwards as he brought his arm to his side. Julian took a shaking breath, his eyes shooting from the weapon to Logan, who was standing there with his eyes closed and his chest heaving.

"Fuck."

It could've been a gunshot. Julian jumped in the air, startled so badly, he knocked over the remaining stuff on the counter and nearly fell to the floor himself.

The knocking on the door—slow, almost teasing—made Logan open his eyes hastily, and Julian had no time to prepare himself as he brought his gun up again.

"Yes, yes—I'm fucking done here, you fucking vultures!" he yelled, and with that, he pulled the trigger resolutely.

Julian screamed—even though it wasn't a real scream with how tight his throat was, making his voice pathetically squeaky, making it sound like someone had stepped on a mouse.

"Hear that? It's done, he's dead!" Logan pushed his gun back in its holster and laid his finger on his lips in a keep-quiet gesture as he dashed to the window.

Julian's eyes were wide and staring straight ahead as his chest struggled to move and get oxygen in his body. The bullet was inches from his head, penetrated in the wall right next to him. His knuckles grew white as he clutched to the counter, having to use all his power not to fall on the floor.

The door handle creaked as it was pushed down, and Logan whipped his head around to watch it in horror, fear keeping him paralyzed for a moment.

Time was up.

Logan leaned over the counter and knocked the window open, wheeling around to grab a chair and to push it under the handle, preventing it from opening any further. Loud curses erupted from the men behind the door, and Logan let out a stream of profanities as he rounded on the actor, clutching his elbow and yanking him in the direction of the opened window.

"Jump," he hissed, but Julian was stunned with so many emotions, he could only shake his head as he stared out of the window.

"That's... that's a drop of three floors—do you think I'm mad?" he whispered back, heart still in his throat.

The door made a noisy cracking sound as the three men used all their weight to get through it, and fear clenched around Logan's heart as he glanced back to the door and then to the frightened actor. Grabbing both his shoulders, he leaned down till they were nose to nose.

"Listen, Princess, it's either this or being shot in the head. Your fucking choice, but I know I will jump. So, if you'd just go fucking first," and with these words, he pushed the actor over the counter.

Julian's hands clenched around the window sill, and he felt terribly nauseous as he looked down. The rain swept his face, the wind making hair fly everywhere. He looked back, absolutely horrified, looking for reassurance from Logan, even though that was the same man that had just wanted to shoot him.

At the same moment that sepia touched an unblinking green, the door burst open violently, the chair collapsing onto the floor loudly. Logan shouted curses and whirled around, his gun out of the holster in a split second, almost immediately shooting at the intruders.

"For fuck's sake, Julian—jump!" he bellowed, and Julian—so startled and terrified of the sudden shooting that had erupted in his kitchen—almost fell out of the window, landing on the wet grass underneath it with a sickening crash that drove all the air out of his longs.

From the window above of him, he heard a crackling shot and an anguished scream, and the next thing he knew, Logan was beside him, having landed smoothly in a crouch. The blond yanked Julian up by his arm and pulled him with him as they ran for their lives.

Past

A few days passed, and Julian never heard anything from Adam. It unsettled him, this sudden absence. Normally, Adam would call or text him every single day, never not letting anything hear from him. This sudden silence made him feel more uncomfortable, and it made him gaze over his shoulder more than a few times walking over streets.

It was a full week later that Adam suddenly showed up.

When Julian went to open the front door—expecting Derek who visited almost every day—he had to do a double take when his eyes fell on that familiar face, and he stumbled backwards in shock.

"Adam..." he breathed, fear jamming its sharp claws in his heart immediately.

The taller boy forced his way inside, a creepy smile painted on his lips, his eyes glistening with a madness that Julian recognized from a week ago.

"Adam, what are you doing here?" Julian asked quietly, entire posture betraying his wariness.

"Don't you want me here?" Adam tilted his head to the side, walking in the room, looking as if he was casually strolling through his own house. His dark eyes were captivating, and Julian's calculated sepia gaze couldn't escape them.

"No..." he said cautiously, carefully watching Adam's reactions like he was a snake about to strike. "I thought that was pretty obvious from what happened a week ago."

Adam's expression turned a tad sad when the actor said this, and Julian almost expected an apology, even a bit taken aback when that didn't came. Instead, Adam turned vicious again, turning his blazing eyes to the smaller boy as he nearly spat the words in his face. "That was pure love, Julian. I can't believe you ran away from it! How could you?"

Two big steps and he was nose to nose with Julian, two pairs of brown eyes staring at each other—one pair painfully afraid, the other one smoldering with fury.

"How could you ignore our love? How could you be so blind to it? While it's so obvious!" Adam grimaced, his madness once again shining through, and Julian wondered how he could've missed out on that before.

"Adam..."

"Our love outshines everything, Julian," Adam's eyes welled with tears of joy, his cheeks flushed in his thrilled excitement, his gestures wild and big. "It's brighter than the sun! I love you so, so much. And you love me too! You know that."

He advanced on the actor, and Julian stepped back, moving further in the living room, not comfortable that Adam was now standing between the door—the only escape he had—and himself.

"Adam!" He was beginning to feel irritated now, and he wanted to break through in the boy's thoughts—but yet again, he was interrupted by a cry of joy.

"But I have figured it out, of course. I will always find ways to save our love."

Julian pressed his lips together and lifted his chin in the sort of stubborn fearlessness you'd expect from a 19-year-old. "You're sick... you have to go away, you need help."

His mood swings were faster and frequenter than those of a pregnant woman, and suddenly Adam was sweet again, eyes softening as they locked with Julian's. "No... I'm not sick," he smiled that charming smile that Julian recognized from the old, harmless, happy Adam. "You could call me love-sick, but other than that..."

Julian exhaled sharply, wondering where the fuck those bodyguards were if you needed them. He almost toppled over in shock when Adam reached in his back pocket and got out a gun, stroking his fingers over the metal, his expression happier than ever.

"We could both be in heaven... Julian... don't you understand? Everything is glorious in heaven... We could be glorious in heaven. Don't you want that?"

Julian shook his head, wide-eyes glued to the gun in a fear so great it whirled through his body, leaving a path of destruction in its wake. He'd only been held under gunshot in movies, never would he have dreamt of the same scene happening in reality. He backed away slowly, but even though his apartment was rather big considering he lived in it alone, it was still too small to create enough space between him and the gun.

Adam's voice was warm and sincere as he spoke, eyes widening to display his honesty. "I'll protect you, Julian. Forever."

"You're—you're sick, Adam—please, please stay away from me..."

Although the smile stayed, his entire posture changed in a heartbeat. Brown eyes sparkled menacingly, fingers clenched around his gun protectively. But the smile stayed—it always, always... stayed. "How can you say that—I'll never walk away from you!"

It was the smile that would haunt Julian's dreams. Not the obsessive eyes, not the blood curling words, not the gunshot... It was the smile—that god-awful, creepy, fake smile.

The gunshot that followed rocked his world, and it took Julian a moment to orientate, to notice where it came from—not from Adam's weapon, not from the bodyguards that suddenly chose to appear, crowding through the front door that Adam had left open...

When Adam fell, it was Derek that stood behind him—his breaths ragged and irregular, his shaking hands holding a smoking gun, his brown eyes wide with utter shock.

A pool of dark red blood was slowly starting to spread over Julian's wooden floor, but the actor barely paid attention to it as Derek had dropped the gun and flew towards his friend, embracing him tightly.

"Are you alright?"

"H-how did you g-get a gun?" Julian stammered, having difficulty tearing his eyes away from the fallen Adam and to look at his friend in utter amazement.

Derek's eyes were glistening with unshed tears as he once again hugged his friend. "I stole it from one of those idiots," he inclined his head to the bodyguards, who were now calling an ambulance and inspecting the lifeless body on the floor. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Julian blinked, swallowing thickly. "Is he... Is he dead...?" his gaze touched Adam who was lying on the floor bleeding out.

Derek shivered before answering, and Julian realized that if Adam was dead—if he was actually dead—that Derek would've killed him. He threw an arm around his friend, finally answering the hug.

"I'm alright, D. You came... you came just in time... thanks..."

Giving him a thin smile, Derek shrugged. "Anytime, Jules. Let's get out of here...?"

"Yes, please," Julian breathed, fear and a slight hysteria still tearing through his body. He tilted his head, resting it on Derek's shoulder as they slowly walked out of the room, leaving the bodyguards to deal with the mess. In the distance, they could hear the sirens of the ambulances and the police.

"The media will have a fucking field day with this," Derek murmured, voicing the exact same thoughts of the actor.

It was silent for a while as they stood outside, the fresh air an absolute relief after the stale, oppressive atmosphere inside.

"At least it's over, right?" Julian's voice trembled and broke, sounding hesitative and unsure. He glanced at the athlete as if searching for reassurance.

Derek nodded resolutely, voice hoarse as he agreed. "At least it's over."

#gunsightfic #daltonfic #jogan

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