Characters: Wes, David, Han, slight Tweedles
Ship: Wevid friendship.
Warning: Character death (Dalton Hell Night)
I really should be writing my NaNo, but I wanted to finish this first. That, and my head is killing me (still. For Dalek’s sake) so I wrote this instead. To plan NaNo now… nearly 24 hours in xD
Han froze. In all this time he’d been trying to find them a way out of the burning building and he hadn’t- where was it coming from? The walkie talkie that was hanging from his belt definitely, but surely any of his equipment inside the art hall would of been damaged? But the voice was broken, the reception poor and he couldn’t think of where else the person might be coming from.
"Who’s this?" he whispered back into the speaker like object, gripping it until his knuckles turned white.
"We-Wes," coughed the person on the end of the line, "listen Han I-I"
"How are you contacting me?" Real smart Han. Wes sounded in a lot of pain and that’s what you’re asking?
Wes chuckled, “there’s a speaker here. With a - shit,” a gasp of pain came through the crackling reception causing Han to pale further if that was even possible, “a b-button.”
"Are you okay?"
"Fucking peachy. H-han I need- need-"
"What?" Han bit his lip, he really wasn’t good at this. This wasn’t a video game where the other person was hurt in virtual reality, this was real. He knew Wes was probably getting angry with him but it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what to say, how could he?
"D-david," Wes said brokenly. Soft and brokenly.
"O-okay," Han stammered, "I’ve just got to." He unclicked the talk button on the speaker so Wes wouldn’t hear him yell and practically screamed David’s name. People turned to look at him in surprise, Han wasn’t exactly one for drawing attention to himself, the very opposite. But the yell had done the trick as he saw David running around the corner, coming to a halt in front of him. A thin layer of sweat covered his forehead, his body almost shaking. Han handed him the walkie talkie silently, indicating the button David had to click and stepping away.
"H-hello?" he said, almost perfectly mimicking the first words that Han had heard.
"David," Wes coughed, his face breaking into a smile and, although David couldn’t see him, he could hear the smile in his voice.
"Wes? Oh my god Wes," David sounded contridicted in his voice, both relieved and worried, "we’re going to get you and the other out okay? Everything is go-"
"David, shut your mouth," Wes interrupted, "I just needed to hear your voice."
"Don’t you dare t-talk like that Wesley Jonathan Hughes. Like I said, we’re going to get you o-"
"And I’ll be dead," Wes said weakly, "please David. Just listen to me."
"No, I won’t listen to you when you’re talking like that. HAN, you can tak-"
"Okay, fine," Wes’s voice was soft, breaking every second syllable, "let’s be hypothetical then. If I don’t die, I’ll buy you icecream as an apology. If I do, you listen to me and don’t have to hate yourself later because I know you will."
"I- you’re not going to die," he replied stubbornly, but waved Han (who had turned back) away, "talk Wes."
"I owe you so much David. You’ve been the best friend anyone could ask fo-"
"STOP TALKING LIKE THAT," David screamed, causing a few people to turn their heads frantically in his direction. He gave a short jerk of the head to show he was okay.
"If I could scream at you now, I would."
"Why won’t you?"
"Because I don’t want to waste the little breath I have left. Please David."
David could hear the desperation in his friend’s voice and he caved, sitting down on the ground where he was standing because he wasn’t sure how long his legs would hold him, “fine. But only because I could use some icecream after this.”
Wes laughed gently, wishing he could believe that he was going to get to buy David that icecream.
"I want you to promise me that you, and make sure everyone else, won’t worry about me, or get to upset."
"David," Wes interrupted warily.
"I promise," he muttered reluctantly.
"And you should propose to Katherine," he added softly, "life’s too short. I know that now. I need you to promise me. Promise me David, that you won’t waste your time with her."
"I promise," this time David couldn’t help the choked sob that came out with the words. He could hear Wes getting fainter in his voice, but brushed it off as Han’s system failing. It took one heck of a beating with the fire and explosion after all.
"Don’t cry David. Promise me something?"
"You fucking dick, what am I supposed to do, smile?"
"Yes," Wes replied honestly.
"Well I can’t," David’s brow furrowed, as he heard him sigh through the connection.
"Just promise me something?"
"Win us regionals?"
David laughed, before his face fell again, “W-wes?”
There was nothing coming from the other side of connection. No crackle, no coughing, no burning of flames. And definitely no Wes. He stood up, throwing the Walkie Talkie hard against the floor, kicking it across the floor in anger.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and his immediate reaction was to hit them harshly away. “Oh god, Han. I didn’t-“
"It’s okay David. Did he, Wes, what happened?"
"The line went dead. But he’ll be okay, right?"
"They’re doing everything they can," Han replied diplomatically.
"Do not give me that fucking bullshit Han!" David turned away from Han, a loud sob taking over his body. Han didn’t follow him, knowing he needed time by himself. That, and he really wasn’t good with people.
It was a few hours later when they finally found Wes’s body. Both of his legs had been crushed by the fallen roof, and they’d found him buried under more rubble. His hand had never left the small radio he’d obviously digged up. Evan and Ethan were silent. They had been the closest to Wes, and couldn’t help blame themselves.
"If I had just-"
"-it’s not your fault. I was ther-"
"-it’s not your fault. Me,-"
"Both of you, shut up," David said softly, "he wouldn’t want us arguing."
Two pairs of blue eyes, faces burnt and covered in soot, turned to face him in a silent agreement. A tear rolled down David’s cheek as he walked over to Wes’s family, who had surrounded Wes. There was a small argument, but David refused to leave Wes’s side. Eventually his parents gave in.
David stood next to Wes, hands together. His eyes were closed, half of his body covered by a sheet. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his best friend’s forehead, tears dripping onto him, causing the dirt on Wes’s face to liquify under it.