The room flashed white and I was blinded, completely frozen in place. I whipped my head to look behind me and the world slowed. As if someone adjusted the speed of life. I looked to my dad, my eyes wide and full of alarm.

The gun dropped from his hand in slow motion. Blood dripped from the middle of his forehead, creating a ghastly ring around a bullet hole. My eyes jumped up to his and they rolled back inside his head. A shaky breath escaped my lips as my dad's body fell backward.

It was like I had forgotten how to breathe as I stared at the dead man's now unnaturally stiff body. The shot's echo in my head drowned out the noise, the only sound registering in my ears being my own trembling breath.

My eyes turned to follow the source of the flash of light, "Carter?" My brows were tightly knit. He stood right in front of the backdoor, the same entrance Lucas and I had used. He quickly holstered his gun and rushed over to Lucas. I quickly followed suit, running and reaching the barely conscious boy in just a few steps.

I slid down next to Charlotte who released her hands from Lucas' wounds. She held them up in front of her face, a look of terror taking over as dark red liquid dripped from her fingers onto her hands and wrists and then onto the floor. Her eyes and body violently shook as she shuffled away from us. She turned to her side and heaved, small amounts of opaque orange liquid spilling from her mouth.

"H-how-" I couldn't get the strangled words out of my throat as I quickly jumped on Lucas, putting pressure where Charlotte's hands had been. Salty water rushed out of my eyes, quickly drenching my face. My vision was blurred red from my tears, the only thing in my line of sight being the blood pooling around him.

I could faintly hear Carter run out of the living room, making his way to the front door and slamming the wooden entrance open.

"What are you doing?" My voice cracked. "Help him! Please," I sobbed. Carter stood in the middle of the street looking around and then jogging back inside after he found whatever he was looking for.

"Keep applying pressure just like that," he ordered me before pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Captain, I need an ambulance at 832 Failon Drive. One civilian injured with a gunshot wound and another in less severe condition. Sangtae Yoon is no longer a threat," he spoke as he glanced over at the lifeless form. "Yes. Yes, sir. Okay," He placed his phone away and knelt near me.

He placed his hands over mine and I glanced at him before slipping my hands out from under his. I sat there, completely helpless as I uncontrollably sobbed. I brought my bloodstained hands up to Lucas' face and cupped his cheeks, "Lucas, Lucas, please. Keep your eyes open! You have to stay awake!!" I desperately whispered. The color had completely drained from his face. His once full, pink lips were now a shriveled pale white. I stroked his face only to smear blood on his skin. His eyes fluttered as he struggled to focus on the world. His bloodshot eyes traveled all over my face as if he was studying me, taking me in for the last time.

Lucas' breathing was heavy, "K-ka," his mouth was slightly parted, but he couldn't get any words out.

I heard a string of incomprehensible mumbles and quickly bent my head down to kiss his forehead. I wasn't sure if it was to comfort him or me. "Shh," I shakily hummed, "It's okay. Y-you're going to be fine. I-I promise." When I raised my head I was met with the whites of Lucas' eyes as they rolled back into his head, his eyelids soon closing. His torso convulsed and gasps of air escaped his throat, the oxygen seemingly getting stuck in his throat, unable to get to his lungs.

"Nonononono. No! Lucas, no, please! Please wake up!" I lightly jostled his cold face in my hands as my tears dripped onto his colorless face. Snot was running down my nose and I cried louder than I ever had before. "I can't- I can't lose you. Don't l-leave me," I repeatedly ran my hands through his hair as I rocked back and forth with his head in my lap.

The loud wails of sirens were quickly approaching, distracting me momentarily. Numerous people scurried into the living room, the weight of their footsteps shaking the floor. First came a couple of police officers to make sure the location was secure, and upon seeing my dead father, they allowed the medics to rush into the room.

A woman wearing a light blue short sleeve shirt leaned over Lucas' body. She held a large kit in her left hand as she reached toward his neck with her right hand, feeling for his pulse. "Pulse is weak," she dropped the bag on the floor and knelt down. She took a black, cylinder-shaped pen and pulled up each of his eyelids, shining a bright light into them. "Pupils are unresponsive," She waved toward the other medics who were bringing in what looked like a stretcher.

I watched silently from the side of the room as chaos ensued. My mind wasn't functioning. My body was still. The only working organ I had was my eyes, allowing me to simply observe the horror that had ensued. Some people were covering up my dad's dead body, others were attending to Charlotte, and the rest swarmed around Lucas. It's like I was watching a movie. I was present but not actually there.

"Kai!" Carter's voice had me snapping my head up in alarm. "I've been calling your name," He placed a hand behind my back and ushered me to start walking. "Go with them, I'll meet you there later," he guided me toward the stretcher that was being rushed out of the house. Carter pushed me all the way until I was sitting on the long seat lining the right side of the ambulance and the large white back doors were shutting with me inside.

The engine roared and the siren's noise rang in my ears as I was jerked backward, the vehicle speeding off toward the closest hospital. I was clasping Lucas' hand as tight as I could, as if it would somehow wake him up. Another medic sat next to me and was analyzing his vitals while placing a large portion of his body weight onto his hands placed atop white bandages that were now bright red, an additional EMT was on the opposite side near Lucas' head with an Ambu bag, squeezing the blue rubber in a steady rhythm.

"Is he going to be okay?" I asked with a hoarse voice, looking toward the woman near his head. Tears were still streaming from my face, making me extremely thirsty. My eyes were wide and full of fear.

"He's stable at the moment, but we weren't able to get the bleeding under control..." she replied.

"What does that mean?" The words flew out of my mouth.

"If he continues to lose blood at the rate he is right now, he could bleed out," the guy added another piece of gauze to Lucas' wound, wiping sweat from his forehead at the same time.

"He could die?" I whispered, my voice was laced with an inexplicable pain.

"Let's not think about that quite yet. There's still time," the medic tried to reassure me.

"He's someone important to you?" The woman asked with a soft voice. All I could do was nod my head as I stared at the pale boy.

It hurts. It hurts so much. It felt as if my guts were wrenching together and moving about. There was a harsh tug on my heart and my lungs ached. I wasn't physically hurt. I was unscathed. But seeing Lucas like this, knowing that it's my fault, knowing that I was too reckless and that's the reason he might die, knowing that he's like this because I involved him into my life, and the thought of him dying... it's so mentally painful that it physically hurts.

"You two must've been very close," she sighed, a sad expression on her face.

"He-he's my boyfriend. We j-just started dating," I choked back a cry, "and then this happens..."

It was my fault. Why is everything always my fault? Why does the person I care about more than anything else keep getting hurt because of me?

It's like my life is an endless loop of pain and torture. The second things start to get better, something slaps me back into reality.

She was about to respond but then the car pulled into the ambulance bay. The doors swung open and we were met with a couple of doctors and nurses. The medics jumped out of the car and lowered the stretcher, "Male, 17 years old. Gunshot to the chest. Vitals are stable but there is heavy blood loss," he rambled off a bunch of other things to the doctors as I jumped out of the ambulance, following behind as they rushed Lucas inside.

My jog slowed into a steady walk until I completely stopped. I stared as the group passed through an automatic door labeled staff only.

A nurse placed her hand on my shoulder, startling me out of my daze, "Do you have someone you can call for him. A parent or guardian?" She was wearing lavender scrubs. She was on the heavier side and exuded a motherly aura.

"Uh, yes. I'll call his family," I spoke in a quiet voice.

"Good, good. Let me show you to the restroom so you can clean yourself up a bit," the nurse warmly smiled. She left a hand lingering on my back, guiding me to the men's bathroom.

"Kai!" I turned to the side to see Carter jogging toward me. The nurse left the two of us and I looked to the detective that killed my dad. I didn't know if I should be sad or happy about the fact that he was dead. I was conflicted, he was my dad and there was a time that he acted as such. But that was long ago, too long to still be relevant. Was I happy? No, happy is too strong of a word. Relieved maybe? Relieved that he can no longer haunt me in my sleep... that he will never hurt anyone else.

But at what cost? I would rather have never sought out revenge and lived as a weak and helpless boy than be in this situation. This isn't it. This isn't how it was supposed to be. My dad was supposed to rot in jail for the things he did and I was supposed to finally be able to breathe. I was supposed to be happy. But instead, the only person who makes me truly happy is lying on his deathbed.

"Here, change into these. I had some extra in the back of my patrol car," Carter handed me a bundle of clothes.

"Thanks," I mumbled. I hadn't stopped crying, yet rather had completely run out of tears. The salty liquid soaked my face, drying, and making my skin slightly sticky to the touch.

"Sure," he nodded.

I made my way into the restroom and set the clothes at the end of the four-sink counter. I placed my hands on the cool surface, my elbows locked as I studied myself in the mirror.

My once bright hazel eyes looked hollow and dull. There were already dark bags forming under my sad-looking eyes. My lips were formed into what seemed like a permanent frown and there was dried blood on the side of my face and forehead. It looked as if I was trying to paint my entire body red as Lucas' blood completely covered my hands and arms in patches of orange and crimson. I gulped back the rising bile in my throat, willing myself not to puke at the horrific sight.

I let go of the air I was holding in my chest as I flipped up the handle to the sink, allowing the water to spill out full force. I placed my arms under the water and started to rub the blood off.

I watched as the soap turned red, spilling into the diluted red of the water in the sink.

Get off me. Get it off! Get off! I began to scrub harder and harder as I started to panic. I was having trouble breathing. I was hyperventilating and tears clouded my eyes once again. I was scratching at my arms to the point where my natural skin turned pink. I drew blood from the tops of my forearms but I couldn't stop. I splashed water up and down my arms, my shirt becoming even damper. My cramping hands slowly moved away from my body. My fists were clenched and I was shaking. I tried to let out a deep breath, relaxing my muscles in the process. I wept as I splashed water onto my face, my cries undoubtedly audible from outside the bathroom.

Once all the blood on my skin was gone I grabbed the clothes Carter lent me. I paced into a large stall and ripped my shirt off. Carter had given me a pair of grey sweatpants, a plain shirt, and a black hoodie. Once I was changed I threw my blood-covered clothes into the trash, wanting to rid myself from this disturbing reality.

Carter was waiting outside the bathroom for me, leaning against the wall on his phone. When he spotted me he put it away, turning to face me, "I'll show you to the waiting room." I walked next to the black-haired male as we walked through a blue door with a large glass window. The room was rather large and contained single chairs that lined the walls. Some were back-to-back in the center of the room. There were also two small couches that looked cheap and could probably fit two people, three at the most.

I took my spot in a chair located in the far back corner, Carter taking a seat next to me, "I told them not to let you look around," he sighed, placing his head in his hands as his elbows balanced on his knees. "I wouldn't have been able to find you two if their neighbor hadn't come out of her house and told us about the concrete that broke her fence. Me and a couple of other officers went after you in the tunnels, but we split up because there were too many different cross-sections... If I hadn't been there... you would be dead right now."

My voice was weak and my words were released from my mouth slowly due to exhaustion, "What does it matter," I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the off-white wall. "Lucas might die because of me."

Carter's head snapped up, his arms falling to his side. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he looked at me, "That's not true. That's not how this works."

"Isn't it though? If I had never pushed Lucas to go into that house none of this would have happened. If I had never involved myself in Lucas' life, he would be perfectly fine right now," I turned my head to the side and gave Carter a small smile that was completely devoid of happiness. "I was trying to disarm my dad... It was my fault he got shot."

"Y'know," Carter spoke in a somewhat peaceful voice. His tone was calm, most likely a facade to mask his worry and make me feel better, "Lucas talks about you a lot. And I don't think he'd be perfectly fine without you. In fact, he would have been miserable. You know what it was like at his house, he couldn't stay there, it would have ruined him. And taking yourself out of the equation just doesn't make sense. If you want to play what-ifs, the person you need to remove from the story is your dad. If it wasn't for him none of this would have happened at all. You would be fine, Lucas would be okay, and your sister wouldn't have gotten hurt. Even if you think it's your fault, something like this was bound to happen. It's not your fault, Kai. None of it is. You're a victim, not a perpetrator. Never forget that."

I moved my head so my gaze was focused on the wall directly in front of me as I tried to process Carter's words. I understood it, I did... but still...

"They took Charlotte to a different hospital. And Ms. Ababio has offered to pay for Lucas' medical bills," Carter paused for a second, trying to think of what to say. "Oh and if you want you can sue the news station that named you as Sangtae's son. It's illegal to do that since it could hinder the investigation and they did not get your permission. The Dramth officer that leaked the information was fired as well, in case you wanted to know."

I simply nodded my head.

"I have to call his mom... but she really hates me," my words were mumbled together. "I don't even have her number."

I pulled up Kalen's contact and pressed call, "Hey, Kai. What's up?" He answered.

"You need to bring your mom to the Dramth Emergency Center. Lucas got shot," my tone was reluctant.

"Shot!?" He yelled from the other side of the line. "Holy fuck! What happened? Is he okay!?"

"Just bring your mom here. He's still in surgery," I hung up the phone. My movements were sluggish as I pulled the black hood over my head. I stared at the back of my phone, taking in the dino's teeny heart. I couldn't look away... Somehow it reminds me of Lucas' smile. He was so excited to see the matching gift, just like an innocent little kid.

He was.

I dragged an innocent person into my fucked up life. I should have known. Nothing good ever comes to people who associate with me. God! What the hell was I thinking?

One hour had passed. And then another and another. Before I knew it, I had been looking at a little blue dinosaur for three hours. My eyes were pink from crying and my nose a rosy color from rubbing it. A nurse would occasionally come in to let us know that he was still in surgery, but they didn't know how much longer it would take. Carter had gotten me some vending machine coffee since he knew I wanted to be awake when Lucas got out of surgery, but even without the coffee I still wouldn't have fallen asleep. My mind was racing a hundred miles an hour.

And just to make things worse, I could see Renea frantically running past the glass window that gave me a view into the entrance of the hospital. She ran up to the counter and exchanged quick words with the nurse who pointed toward the waiting room. That was when she noticed me and the look of pure rage on her face was overwhelming.

Carter seemed to notice and exited the room, "I'll talk to her." He stopped her before she could pass through the door. He led her away and had her sit down on the opposite side of the glass window. By the numerous expressions that crossed her face, I'd guess that he was explaining everything that happened. Carter rubbed her shoulder as she cried, then leaving her to come back into the room. Renea reminds me of that saying 'always appreciate what you have before it's gone.' She took Lucas for granted and used him his entire life, and now she's only worried about his well being since it's a matter of life or death.

After another 30 minutes of looking at nothing, a doctor made her way into the waiting room. She had a mask in her hand and she quickly shoved it into the large pocket of her long white coat. I could see another doctor going to talk to Lucas' mother on the other side of the glass.

I looked up at her, unmoving from my position with a hopeful look in my eyes.

"The surgery went well," she smiled. I let out the biggest sigh of relief, my gaze drifting all around the room. I threw the hood off my head and rubbed my face. "We were able to successfully remove the bullet, it had splintered into a couple of pieces and we had to make sure we retrieved everything which is why it took so long. But he'll be okay. You can expect a full recovery after several months of rest."

"Thank you," I spoke sincerely.

"He's still asleep because of the anesthesia, but I can take you to his room if you'd like."

"Please," I stood up. I walked behind the doctor as she led me to Lucas' recovery room. It was small. Next to his bed were the monitor and bedside table. There were a couple of chairs in the corner and a small TV across from his bed. Lucas was dressed in a hospital gown, neatly covered by a blue blanket. His mom was sitting on one side of the bed, scowling at me. But she didn't say anything. She knew she couldn't.

Lucas looked peaceful, although his skin tone was still slightly pale, some of the pink tint had returned to his face, creating a small flush of color along his cheeks.