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Calum Hood never thought that he would be facing life or death at nineteen years old all because he forgot about his sisters birthday.
It was a normal day as cliché as it may sound, but then again, isn't every day normal until it suddenly isn't? Life for the nineteen year old was mundane, boarding upon boring really. Wake up, roll over and sleep for another hour, wake up again, eat breakfast, try to go back to sleep before his mum yanks him out of bed; lounge about the house, say he's looking for a job, watch Netflix instead of looking for a job, eat, sleep and repeat. Really, if his life was the opposite of interesting or adventurous. Being nineteen years old with a grand total of two friends and taking online classes doesn't exactly call for an interesting life. But it was his life, so, he dealt with it.
The nineteen year old rarely went outside. Due to the fact his classes were all online and he had probably the most introverted friends you could ever meet, he never had a reason to. That was, until only a few hours earlier his mum knocked on his door at twelve thirty – as if he would actually be awake at that time – to double check he had gotten his sister a card for her birthday. At this point Calum wanted to act as though he had, nodding his head when his mother rambled about the fact cards are more sentimental than anything else in the world before telling him to stop nodding and go get one.
At that point he decided to keep it to himself that he hadn't gotten her a present yet, much less a card.
And so that is why Calum Hood on the eighteenth of May left the house for the first time in a week to go to the bank. There were so many tiny, minuscule factors leading to this event that made him wonder if he had of done one thing differently, maybe he could have avoided the whole mess. Maybe if he had left the house a little sooner, maybe if he parked in a spot closer to the bank, maybe if he didn't let a family through the door before him since they had a kid in a pram. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Either way, it happened.
It wasn't like the movies made it out to be, it wasn't quick and slick – it wasn't fast at all. Or maybe it was, and maybe he was just to stunned by the moment that everything played out in slow motion.
It was three thirty, at least that was the last time the brown haired boy checked his phone before sliding it back into his pocket. He didn't know how long he had been standing in the line of the bank, almost glaring at the people in front of him as if it would make them move any faster. The atm's in the city had been acting up lately, that was the only reason he would ever step foot into something as public as an actual bank. He remembered seeing something about it in the news, but he didn't pay much attention to it beyond the fact that the inconvenience wouldn't bother him – evidently that was proven wrong.
There was nothing unusual about the bank either, forget the day. It wasn't as if it was the largest bank in the country, God it wasn't even the biggest in the city, it just happened to be close by. The people standing in lines were normal, average. The bankers were pleasant, suits and smart blouses. There was even music playing over the intercom – not like Calum took much notice, he preferred the assortment of Green Day and Blink 182 to that he had playing through his earphones over the latest hit.
All in all, everything was normal, mundane. Until it wasn't.
The man that stood up on the desk, plain black and unoriginal ski mask covering his face seemed to come from nowhere. The gun he held in his hand didn't even seem real, it looked so fake, like something out of a movie or something a child would play with. But when the first shot rang clear, well, that proved its authenticity.
All there was, was blind panic. He heard a scream somewhere, another shot, the heavy thump of a body colliding with the floor. He saw another one crop up, identical with their ski mask and then another, and before he knew it there were four masked strangers, guns in hand and everyone suddenly shut up.
And that's how on the eighteen of May 2015 Calum Thomas Hood found himself sitting on the floor of the bank he had only been in once before, staring at dirty blue carpet that scratched his knees through the tear of his jeans in a hostage situation.
Suddenly, the nineteen year old became all too aware of the fact his life really wasn't that well spent. Sitting with his head bowed, he couldn't even force himself to look around him for fear of making the wrong move, doing the wrong thing and bringing an end to his pitifully uneventful life for once and for all. He couldn't look to the side, because he didn't want to see the fear stricken expressions of the other occupants of the bank. He couldn't look up because he was too afraid of making eye contact with one of the obviously unhinged robbers and gain a bullet to the skull. He couldn't even look in front of himself for fear of seeing blood soaking into the carpet that's smell was already pungent.
So, he sat there.
His ass was numb, knees aching and all he could think about was the fact he was really fucking hungry. You would think that in a life or death situation your mind wouldn't be consulting your stomach. But then again, he was a nineteen year old boy, and really his brain is either located in his dick or his stomach, rarely if ever in his head.
Time had began creeping on and no one else seems to have been hurt, at least not yet, he had to remind himself of that now and then. He didn't even want to hear the conversation going on around him between the masked figures. All he wanted was the go ahead for them to get out. But sitting there, staring at that damn dirty carpet, he couldn't help but think on the fact he didn't want to die alone.
“What's your name?”
At first, he didn't think the question was directed to him. But upon feeling a gentle tap to his shoulder, Calum couldn't help himself from looking up for the first time in what felt like forever.
And God, his neck hurt.
Crouching down in front of him, the boy couldn't have been much older than he, if older at all. His hair hung loose, curly and wild a sandy kind of blond colour that could be easily mistaken for a light brown. Hazel eyes and tanned skin, the only reason the nineteen year old bothered to note these features were due to the fact he was wondering if this was the last person he'd ever come in contact with. If so, he didn't mind too much.
“Look, my name is Ashton and they're taking us into a store room, okay? Just follow me.” The now named boy – Ashton – held out a hand to brown eyed boy, giving of a surprisingly calm, or perhaps just calming, vibe that the teenager really wondered how someone could possess at a time such as this.
But, none the less, Calum found himself taking hold of the strangers hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. His neck ached and his feet felt like they were being pricked by pins and needles, but he didn't say anything on it. One of the masked figures stood before the two boys and several others who stood behind them, as it turns out, Calum was both the last and the closet person they needed to pick up for whatever is about to happen.
There was dread coating the pit of his stomach. Thick and gloopy, it bubbled and clung to his insides as the group walked forward. The man before them – at least he seemed to be a man from his broad shoulders and the way he walked with a roll of them that ooze calm and power – was somewhat shorter than the nineteen year old. Stout with a thick and heavy torso, he seemed to be a walking barrel. All Calum could really see of the man were the rolls at the back of his rather short neck, and – surprisingly - no tattoos in sight, he almost wondered if this man wielding a firearm was afraid of something as little as a needle.
“Sorry.” Despite the quiet, the boy still felt the urge to let his apology be known as he loosened his grip before moving his hand entirely from that of its hold of Ashtons having forgotten he was gripping onto the others hand at all. His palms were sweaty, shaky hand and grip probably uncomfortably tight, the urge to apologise seemed to over rule his fear as idiotic as it may sound.
“It's okay to need to hold someone's hand sometimes.” Had the man not stopped them all, perhaps Calum would have turned to the blond by his side to reply to that, perhaps ask how he could be so calm during a time like this. But no, there wasn't time for that.
“In.”
That was all there was to be said, well, that and a jut of the gun the masked man held in his hand to the now open store room door that Calum never even knew was there, forget about it being opened. And like sheep they were all herded in, first off Calum, then the boy behind him who seemed far too calm and everyone one else. It was dark in the room, and it seemed the robber had no intention of changing that as the door clicked shut behind them, promptly cutting off all light into the room.
It shouldn't be this dark, was all the boy could think to himself as he felt his body behind shoved forward til he stumbled a little, reaching out for the wall in hopes of stabling himself, it's not even night. Upon the realisation that the man – who Calum wished he could pair a name to beyond 'Neck Rolls' – was not actually in the room with them, hushed and hurried whispers began to fill the shoe box of a store room. The nineteen year old paid no heed to this though, instead he tried to calm that panicked feeling within him by trying to find a wall and hopefully stick to it as if in some metaphorical sense it could make everything feel grounded, stable in such an unstable situation completely beyond his control.
“What's going on!”
“Who are they?”
“Fuck, we're done for.”
“Why – why are we in here?”
“Someone – anyone! Does anyone have their phone?”
The whispering that filled the room along with the occasional sniff and heavy breath did nothing to calm the fears of the nineteen year old. All he wanted to do was shout, to yell through the panic that began to build within him, climbing up his throat and burning it like bile. Of course no one has their phone, he wanted to curse, they fucking took them you idiot. But he held the words back, let them gather behind his teeth for fear of parting his lips would only let sobs and body wreaking breaths escape free. So he didn't say a word for a few moments as his eyes squeezed shut as his hand finally came in contact with a wall that almost calmed him enough to let him breathe.
“Ashton?”
A stranger. He was calling for a stranger. For all he knew the boy with the seemingly kind calming eyes could be just as bad as the people outside this door. His heart hammered and his stomach began tying itself in knots. God, he just didn't want to die alone.
“Hey, you okay?”
Despite the darkness, if he strained his eyes hard enough Calum could just about see the outline of he boy before him. Had this been any other moment, any other time of any other day, he may have found it strange that he was almost comforted by a strangers presences. But for now, he decided not to question it. “Shit, hi.”
But the strangest thing of all his normal self would have thought at any other moment, any other time of any other day, would be the fact the stranger before him laughed. It was light and soft, maybe even a little shaky and hesitant. But it was a laugh, and it with the presence of a hand on his shoulder helped him feel even if only slightly calmer.
“Hey.” The stranger replied, and there was still that hint of a laugh, perhaps a smile in his voice that made the situation feel that little bit less real. “We should probably sit down, yeah?”
Without any real reply beyond something of a muttered reply of, 'yeah' Calum found himself with his hands against the wall again, just to check to make sure it was actually there before sitting on the ground. Upon making that move he shuffled backwards until his back hit the wall. There was a soft scuffle, a thump even as the boy by his side managed to come down and sit by him. Voices were still whispering quickly, as if planning something or maybe just expressing their fears in a very unhelpful fashion.
For a few moments, the two sat in silence. Calum pulled his knees to his chest, leaning back against the wall with his eyes squeezed shut so tight be began to see stars and spots of light dancing before them. He tried to convince himself this was all just a dream. There weren't mad gunmen roaming around outside the room and he wasn't going to possibly die if he pissed one of them off. But then again, Calum has never been a good liar, lying to himself was no different.
“So what's your name?” The voice of the stranger beside him, Ashton, was becoming a little more normal to hear to Calum's panicked mind.
“Calum.” He replied simply, normally the question to ask in response would be for theirs, but at this point they've already covered that and really, Calum's conversational skills are kind of lacking at this point in time.
“Well, Calum, what age are you?”
The teenager was tempted to ask why it mattered. But soon enough he found himself just trying to breathe, deciding that maybe he should just answer the damn questions and get on with it. After all, it could distract him. “'M nineteen. You?”
“Twenty, twenty one in a couple months actually.” Ashton replied, sounding a little surprised at the question. Calum couldn't blame him though, thus far he had been pretty lacklustre in the conversation department.
Calum decided to withhold his comment on, yeah, if we make it out alive that is, deciding that maybe pissing off the only person he can speak to may be a bad idea. So instead he just nodded his head though the other could not see, mumbling under his breath some kind of response that was more than probably, 'cool.'
For a few moments, the pair once again lapsed into silence. During that time, the nineteen year olds thoughts ran wild. He was going to die, more than probably, without ever seeing his family again. How shitty is that? He's going to die by the hands of idiots who wanted money. He was going to die a virgin and he was never going to experience anything interesting in his whole life because he thought he would have more of it to live. God, he needs to get a life if he manages to live past today.
“What's a secret you have that you swore never to tell til the day you die?”
Calum wasn't sure where the question came from, but there it was. Out in the open, loud and proud as if it was something that could just be asked. But in his mind, it may as well. After all, if this is the day he dies, he doesn't want to do it with stupid secrets still making him feel ill because he's never spoken a word of them before.
“We're not going to-.”
“Just answer the question, okay? Please.”
For a moment the pair fell silent once again, and the nineteen year old who sat hugging his knees to his chest began to wonder if maybe he shouldn't have asked.
“I cheated on my english lit exam. I had answers and key notes written inside the book.”
At the confession the tanned boy could have laughed. Ashton sounded so sombre, as if it was truly an awful thing to have done. Calum could have listed plenty of worse things he did in order to pass his exams in school. But he decided to leave that for a moment, “Is that it?” He asked, unable to help himself from laughing if it was only a bit.
“What? That was awful!” The curly haired boy replied, and Calum swore he heard a laugh within his tone as well.
“You think that was bad? I screwed around with my sisters boyfriend a couple years ago and never told her.” Confessing that felt like a weight that could rival that of an obese elephant was lifted from his chest. But he still found himself laughing a little despite the awful thing he could have done.
“You screwed your sisters boyfriend?” Came the others seemly shocked response, and for a second Calum wondered if maybe he should have saved that confession til a little later.
“Well, I wanted to see if I was gay and, yeno, he was there and we were a little drunk and everything was just kind of weird. I didn't mean to but, well, I did.” He admitted, and had there been any light in the room then maybe the other would have noticed the light blush to his cheeks.
“You know you could have just tried kissing a guy.” It was strange to be laughing, talking like this at such a moment, but Calum couldn't make himself care as he shrugged his shoulders in the dark to the olders reply.
“Yeah, but I felt like I really needed to experience dick to know I liked it, yeno?” In hindsight, that sounded a little dumb. Not to mention the fact that a woman muttering by his side didn't seem to amused by his choice of words.
“Only someone gay would think that, trust me, I'd know.”
It's not like in the movies, Calum realised sometime later into his conversation with the older boy by his side. Hostage situations. He should be terrified, shaking and on the verge of tears – and maybe he is, on the inside. But no one ever informs you that you can still posses other feelings during this happening. No one ever told him that if he was stuck in a bank, locked in a room with strangers and men with guns on the other side that he could actually laugh. Sure, they probably seemed crazy to everyone else in the room. Laughing despite the fact they could be shot at any given moment. But even if it was crazy, and maybe they were both scared out of their minds, it felt good to talk to someone like the world wasn't ending.
They had fallen into silence after some point, and Calum couldn't seem to ignore how heavy his eyelids felt as he leaned to the curly haired boy his side. It felt like they had been in that room for hours, and maybe they had. Due to the fact the nineteen year old have his phone forcefully removed from him, he couldn't imagine a way of actually figuring out the time in a room that is completely dark.
“Do you think we'll die?”
The whispering had stopped some time ago. It seemed that everyone ended up with the same thought: that there's no use in making a plan against a guy with a gun. Those who didn't care or simply gave up were possibly asleep, the rest were probably sitting alone, knees draw to their chests while hoping the next person to open the door will have a bullet proof vest. Or they were like Calum, leaning onto the side of someone who only hours ago were a stranger and now felt more like a friend than most people they've known since childhood.
“I hope not.”
Ashton's words weren't as calming as they were earlier. They weren't cut outs of what every fireman would say when saving a victim, what any police officer would say to someone watching by the side, not want a many of the army would say to an innocent bystander. But they still felt calming from the way he spoke. Over the past few hours, or however long they had been cooped up like animals, the nineteen year old began to realise that the boy by his side had a talent for making people feel safe. He supposed that was from the fact he practically raised his siblings, something they talked about earlier.
“I'm scared.”
Admitting it only made it seem truer. He was afraid. No matter how he tried to push aside the fear with laughter, no matter how many embarrassing childhood stories he told or how many awkward moments he relived through telling them: he couldn't rid himself of the feeling. It felt like he was being choked, like there was an unbearable pressure on his chest and fingers around his throat. When in reality, all there was were fingers threading through his on his lap and lips pressed to his temple.
“That's okay, I'm scared too.”
For a moment, Calum wondered what it would be like if they got out of this. He wondered if the boy by his side who held onto his hand and told him stories about his little brother and sister growing up and how he hoped to god they'll be happy will forget his name. He almost asked, almost questioned if he was going to see him again. But he shouldn't care to ask that, he shouldn't. Because he should be thinking about the fact there may not be a day after this one, that maybe this is the end of it all. And he knew that after this day, if he makes it through it, he's going to want to run from the memory. Run from the gunshots that rang through the bank, run from the image of a guard falling to the ground before his eyes and run from the memories of panic gripping him by the throat until he couldn't breathe. So, he should run from the boy he met smack bang in the middle of it. But he didn't want to.
“Ashton,” Shifting where he sat, Calum made a move to sit up, the face the boy he was practically laying on moments prior even though the action was useless due to the fact in the dark of the room they couldn't even see their own hands much less each others faces, “if we get out of this, can we-”
“Hey! Someone get over here, now!”
The next thirty seconds, were ones that Calum was almost positive he would never forget for the rest of his life.
It was like slow motion as light poured in from the now open door. Spilling over the bodies sitting on the floor, against the wall, some still standing around for god knows what reason, the sudden light was blinding, enough to the point that the tanned boy had to shield his eyes due to the pain it suddenly caused him. It was like trying to move through honey, watching what happened. A few seconds must have past, maybe a dozen before the man that had looked to be nothing more than a silhouette against the light pouring in from the door moved into the room and grabbed onto the first person he saw.
Fistful of bright red hair, he pulled the girl to her feet despite her protests and yelp of pain at the tug of the dyed locks. Her pupils were blown, wide and eyes barely blue with fear as she held onto his hand to pull it away. Muzzle of the gun under her chin, skin stark white from fear – Calum wondered what she had to live for that made her look as though she had unfinished business. He could barely hear the man's gruff words, he could barely zone in on the situation as his ears rang with the quick and heavy flow of blood rushing through his body like adrenalin was just forcibly shot through his veins.
Then there was yelling. Inaudible words being thrown to the air. The man in the masks gun being branched, a stranger standing up from the floor with his hands up standing in the way from the other who cursed and spat to the gunmen like he stood a chance. There was a bang in the distance, a shout and a call. And before Calum could think people in the room were standing, getting to their feet and before he knew it he felt the boy by his side raise. Somewhere within him he knew there was yelling, so much yelling it made everything fuzzy.
He wanted to grab onto the idiot twenty year old by his side. Tell him to get down before he gets himself hurt. To stop yelling, to stop trying to be a hero. Memories flooding back of hours, maybe minutes prior of the older boy telling him how he hated himself for being a bystander for too long for too many things throughout his life when he should have fought, fought for himself, fought for others. He wanted nothing more than to pull him to the ground and tell him that this wasn't his battle.
But then there was a shot.
And for a second, there was silence before suddenly, there wasn't.
Screaming, shots fired, the heavy thump of footsteps banging on the floor.
And blood.
There was so much blood.
Looking back on it, everything was a blur after that point. The stomp of heavy steel toed boots on the bank floor, the snap of hand cuffs and shouts of police officers that seemed to have finally found them at last. People were rushed out in stretchers, others helped out with calming voices and warm embrace. But Calum followed blindly after the boy that he swore was an idiot for standing up. He ignored the kind men and women that tried to pull him back to check him out in favor of running along side the stretcher that carried the bleeding boy away.
There was just so much blood.
“Sir, sir.” It took a few more times of being called on for Calum to tear his eyes away from the blond boy groaning in front of him to look at the paramedic that stood in front of him, “Do you know his name?”
“Uh, yeah – I mean, yeah I do.” He said, looking away from the twenty year old that was looking startlingly pale as he was bundled into the ambulance that he couldn't remember being there. “His name is Ashton – look I need to go with him.”
“I'm sorry unless you're family or-.”
“We're dating.” Calum blurted out, the first thing that could come to mind. He was somewhat aware of the fact he had blood on his cheek, and that his shirt was damp, clinging to his skin in a sickening kind of way that at any other time would have made him throw up. Wide eyes, adrenaline still running through his veins he knew he looked insane.
But hey, maybe it would pass off as a passionate lover?
“I'm sorry but-..” She sighed, “alright, come on then.” The paramedic probably didn't believe him, but at that point, Calum couldn't help but want to kiss her.
The sound of the siren was obnoxiously loud, ears still ringing from gunshot, Calum couldn't quite find himself noticing as he climbed into the back of the ambulance, sitting on the edge of whatever it is they call that thing you're meant to sit on – if it's not a seat it's not in his vocabulary – near the top of the stretcher that held the boy that hours before was just another a stranger.
“You're such a fucking idiot.” The nineteen year old muttered, shaking his head at the pained smile that appeared on the curly haired boy. Had he looked down he would have seen his leg dowsed in blood that sept through the bandages that wrapped around his thigh that made him wince every few seconds.
“My leg hurts like a bitch.” Was all he had to say, and Calum could have laughed for the relief he felt at the fact that damn madman with a gun had shut shitty aim. Though Ashtons face twisted into a grimace of pain, he still tried to smile. Eyes squeezed shut, the twenty year old gripped onto the edge of the stretcher as the doors shut, practically whimpering under his breath. “Fuck, that really hurts.”
Without thinking, Calum reached forward, grabbing the hand of the boy laying in front of him, trying to offer up a smile as he laced their fingers together, palm to palm as he squeezed his hand tightly. “It's okay to hold someones hand sometimes, remember?”
In hindsight, maybe getting caught up in a bank robbery wasn't all that bad. Sure, some people got hurt, no one died. And sure, the bank was totalled, but all the money was counted for. And maybe some people would be mentally scared, but therapy is great for that kind of stuff. In the end, Calum got a boy with a scar on his thigh and a voice that could make a panic attack subside out of it. So yeah, he was feeling pretty bless. Plus, the added fact his sister didn't expect a present the next day was pretty sweet.