I do not own the Gone Series

The gun whipped into Quinn's face before he could say hello.

Lana's loud breathing was the only sound. Her dark eyes wide with anticipation and fear. She put the gun away on her belt as normal as picking up a book. 'Hey, Quinn.'

Quinn stared for a second before blinking. 'Yeah, uh. Hey. How's it going?'

Lana raised an eyebrow sarcastically. 'You want one of my cigarettes or a meal from Fairyland?'

Quinn walked inside, goosebumps disappearing but the ghost of a shudder remained under his skin. 'Ha ha. Actually, I just wanted to borrow some tape to patch up some stuff.'

Lana took out a cigarette from her pocket. Lit it and put it between her teeth. Quinn's eyebrows furrowed slightly with sadness at that but didn't say anything. After all, at least Lana wasn't one of those kids who were hungover or coughing their lungs out after about smoking through two packs a day. 'Why?'

Quinn shrugged. 'There's a hole in one of our boats. And, you know, we need all the help we can get. The fish aren't going to fish themselves.'

Lana almost smiled at the lame attempt at optimism. She breathed out a puff of smoke and walked to the kitchen. Quinn followed her. 'Hey, you mind if I take a drink?' he asked. 'It's been a long day.' He wiped the sweat off his brow.

Lana hummed. 'Sure. There're glasses in the high cupboards.'

As Lana opened the lower cupboards, Quinn leaned forwards on his tiptoes, trying to snatch up the glass closest to him. His sweaty fingertips clamped around the glass before he lifted it away.

The smooth surface slipped between his fingers and splintered to pieces on the tiled floor. Quinn immediately opened his mouth to apologize, but as he did, the words died on his tongue at the sight of Lana's gun.

Pointing straight-

Pull it. The chilling voice in Lana's head whispered.

At Quinn's forehead-

The trigger is right here. Invisible fingers wrapped around Lana's finger on the trigger.

Quinn opened his mouth. 'Lana...'

Kill Quinn. Lana wanted to so bad.

'...It's me...'

She really, really wanted to pull the trigger.

'It's Quinn...'

Lana narrowed her eyes. And blinked.

The gun lowered slowly down and dropped sideways back into Lana's belt. Quinn's eyes were wide. 'Uh, sorry,' he managed. 'About the cup, I mean.'

Lana realized her teeth were grinding against each other. 'Sorry. It's cool. It's just a glass.' She noticed the cigarette that had fallen from her mouth on the wooden floor and stomped it out.

Quinn let out a shuddering breath. 'So, er. You...want me to leave?'

'Yes,' Lana snapped. She pointed at the door stiffly. 'Right now.'

'Oh, but I still need the t-'

'Now.'

Quinn left. Not uttering a word.

Lana didn't breathe until the door shut. She didn't move until Patrick's whine called her from the other room. Lana walked to the door slowly and leaned against it, allowing her legs to give out under her.

She buried her head in her hands. Her knees tucked up, touching her forehead. Patrick came over and nudged her arms, whimpering.

'I didn't shoot him. I didn't shoot him,' Lana whispered over and over again. To herself or Patrick, she wasn't sure. A crazy laugh startled both her and Patrick. 'But I wanted to. So badly...'

The last glowing spark in the squashed cigarette dimmed to darkness.

Thanks for reading!