Just found this and felt like posting it. Don't know if it's going anywhere, so I'll keep it 'In Progress'. Review please?

Consider this something like a DeviantArt submission. Not necessarily a story, unless you guys want it to continue.

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Thousands of voices cheering. Thousands of eyes watching. Thousands of fists pumping into the air. Thousands and thousands of hearts, beating as one; a crowd. A massive gathering that stretches high into the air, covering every seat in the stadium. Faces of every color, every shape, every emotion. Shirts that blend together in a rainbow of colors. Hats occasionally freckle the collection of heads.

This is my personal bubble. This is my space, my train of thought, my voice. Those are my eyes, watching every aspect of the bey-stadium below. I think of this place throughout the year, this hard bench on one end of the dish where teams have gathered. Loses have been acquired here. Victories have been achieved. People have been injured, triumphant, horrified, graceful, and about a million other words that could possibly describe the emotions one feels at the rim of the dish. I open my eyes now, taking it all in. Lee is standing happily, claiming a victory for our team. Across the huge expanse of sleek floor, Max slumps back to his teem. He is greeted with a 'hey, you tried your best' pat on the back by Tyson. Lee turns and I smile up at him, eyes sparkling.

He catches my look and smiles back. We've been getting along recently, and he knows that I've started to idolize him. He moves down the steps, catching his blade mid-air. Mariah jumps for joy, Gary laughing; they're both to the right of me. People scream, cheering, rooting us on. Some boo, but you learn to tune it out. He moves closer now, proud and confident, ready to brace for the next round of his match.

From somewhere to my left, too far away for the others to notice, I feel a presence. It's approaching fast, and I turn slowly to see. I'm smiling, having not taken the time to wipe it away before I turn. It's a man, wearing a long brown trench coat. He's stalking towards us, face set into a determined glare. My smile fades, as a look of panic starts to take over, I see him do it; he reaches into his coat and pulls out a gun, lifting it up. My eyes widen. Everything is moving in slow motion but as I turn to warn the others, the gun fires.

I freeze. It's not me that's been hit, and for a moment I think the man missed. Until, of course, I see Lee stumbling backwards, blood spraying slightly from his chest. His eyes are wide. My heart stops, and I can't seem to acknowledge what just happened. Stupidly, I turn back around and look at the man. The gun is trained on me now. Another bang. I feel a pressure hit the right side of my abdomen and I stumble back before there's another loud bang, and a bullet tears into my shoulder. My eyes are wide. I can see blood splattering through the air. My blood. Someone screams, but things are still moving slowly. Gary jumps forward just before another bang can sound, and as I hit the floor, I see him jerk backwards slightly. I don't understand why Gary is slumping to the floor. Mariah screams again, but by this time, two large men have tackled the man and the gun is clattering across the floor.

My head hits the floor, and for several moments my eyes are closed tightly. What? What's going on? Noises fade. I can hear the distress, I can smell the blood, I can feel the panic. But when I open my eyes, I can't see any of it. It's around me, but the only thing in my view is the huge ceiling, towering high above me. Support beams and skylights smile back at me. I blink. I can't speak, or move. Time regains its normal pace, but I still can't here. I just stare blankly up, blinking slowly every few moments.

Am I going to die? Here, on the floor of a stadium? I don't want to die, but… I guess I don't have a say. Is everyone else going to die? Lee, and Gary? What about Mariah? I want them to live. Maybe I can just die, and then everyone else will live. I'd be okay with that, I guess. There's commotion all around me. A strange woman with hair leans over me. Well. I guess it should be obvious that she has hair. Most women don't bald. What I mean is, it was long and blonde, and well conditioned. A man leans over me on the other side of my body. I spare both of them only a glance. Its okay, I want to say to them. It's okay, if I die then the others can live.

I look back up at the ceiling. I still can't feel anything. How strange, shouldn't I be in pain? Oh well, best not look a gift horse in the mouth. The ceiling is a steel blue color for some reason. I recognize that my vision is getting blurry. But I see something above, something moving. My eyebrows narrow every so slightly in confusion. The woman is speaking to me, trying to get me to talk. No thank you, I'm fine remaining silent. I study the object for several moments before realizing what it is;

A balloon. It's floating, forgotten, probably let go by some little kid when the gun shots rang off. I blink thoughtfully. Someone is pulling a stretcher towards us. Hello stretcher, this is Mr. Guy-with-mustache, and this is Ms. Woman-who-has-hair. They're very friendly.

I look back at the balloon. It has something written on it. I blink again, trying to clear my vision. The balloon is shiny and silver, and in dark red writing, I can make out three simple words;

I love you.

Well. A little forward, Mr. Balloon, but I suppose I love you too. But you're far away, aren't you? I'll say it so that you can hear it…

"I love you too." I breathe, my voice raspy. I'm gasping for breath, wheezing almost. The woman looks down at me. Suddenly, I can here her.

"It's okay, sweetie, you're going to be just fine."

And then, with that said and done, I come crashing back into reality. Suddenly, pain catches up with me as I overcome the shock of being shot, and I scream in pain. The woman and man frantically go about numbing me up, but tears start to sting in my eyes and when I finally feel the pain lessening, my cheeks are soaked. I can't move my head, but I want to know where Mariah is. Where's Gary and Lee? Can someone please help me find my friends, I'm lost!

And I realize, about now, that I'm not lost. I know where I am. I'm lifted onto the stretcher quickly and strapped down. They lift it up onto its wheeling platform and start pushing me away. No, I'm not lost. My friends aren't out looking for me, they're in the same condition I am.

Wait… What if I live and they all die? I wouldn't want to live. I couldn't live. My friends, my captain, my cousin, my best friend in the whole wide world, please live! I love you guys. I love you guys, all of you. Please, I need you, don't die. Please… come ba-… back… help…

Blackness.

-x-x-x-

All I can remember of the following three days was the blur of hallways passing, Mr. Dickenson trying to talk to me while I was half-conscious, and the weird circles on the ceiling. Like little crop circles, spiraling round and round without an end in sight.

Slowly, my eyes lift toward the ceiling again. I have that damn tube in my mouth, and my eyelids are heavy. I feel like I'm lifting several pounds with only my eyelashes. But something is floating about me, something I want to see clearly. It's a weird shape, blowing back and forth gently. Floating. A balloon, I think. Does it love me, like the last one?

No. It just wants me to get better. If I could frown I would, but the tube that's helping me breathe won't let me. I exhale the most frail breath I've ever taken. Then something moves beside me.

"Kevin?"

It's a voice. It's very gentle, tired, worried. I blink my eyes open again. The crop circles look crisp, like someone had just used Windex to clear my vision. I look to my right.

Mariah.

"I'm right here, Kevin. I'm right here." She whispers. Her hand falls on mine. I do my best to give her a squeeze. You're okay! Frantically, unable to talk, I come to a good conclusion on how to communicate with Mariah.

'Are you okay?'

Sign language. Thank you deaf older brother. She notices my hand moving to late and I repeate it. She smiles half-heartedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. How do you feel?"

I make a point of ignoring the question. 'Where are Lee and Gary?'

Of course, I don't sign 'Lee' and 'Gary'. I sign 'Brother' and 'Cousin'. Mariah loses the smile immediately. Tears are threatening to surface again. She flinches, glancing over her shoulder hesitantly.

"Lee is right there, Kev." She says shakily. She steps aside and I glance over. Lee is in fact there, with a ventilator helping him breathe. I feel some relief sweep over me before she steps back into place. Tears are in her eyes.

'Cousin?'

She just looks at me. Three separate strands of tears fall down her face before she answers.

"Gary died saving you, Kevin."

I look at her blankly for at least a hundred years. I sign again. 'Cousin?'

Mariah finally sobs, unable to hold back. She pushes a hand to her mouth and struggles not to cry.

'Cousin?'

I'm breathing fast now. I can hear the beeping of my heart-rate monitor quicken. I keep signing cousin until Mariah grabs my hand to make me stop.

"He's gone, Kevin. He's gone." She whispers, falling to her knees beside the bed. She holds my hand in both of hers and presses her forehead against the side of my bed. My eyes sting with tears, but I still don't believe it.

"G-Gary?" I manage to say, my voice hardly more then a whisper. Mariah says nothing. I stare ahead. No. No. No. No a thousand times over and then some more no. This can't happen. It's a dream. A stupid, stupid dream. No. Please no, not Gary, not him. Me, yes, take me, not Gary. All that runs through my head is some variation of 'please no, not this'. Tears fall without my permission. I don't even sob. They just fall, totally independent. I stare ahead. We stay like that for a while before I pass out again, but before I do I recall that one balloon. That balloon floating around the ceiling, all alone and lost.

I love you.

-x-x-x-

"You're going to have to move around carefully for a while, but you're free to walk around now. Make sure you have someone with you if you leave."

I just gaze at the flood. My feet dangle over the side of my hospital bed. The doctor looks at me a moment before shuffling away, defeated. He leaves without another word, but my eyes are still on the floor.

"At least you can go get normal food at the cafeteria." Lee says, trying to cheer me up. I haven't spoken a word in the three weeks that we've been here. Not since Mariah told me that Gary died. I haven't smiled or looked anyone straight in the eye. I can't. Not knowing that. Not without Gary. I just can't. Lee sighs. He's still stuck in bed. He can breath on his own now, though. A deflated lung, I think. A miracle he's alive, that's what they said. Call me selfish, but I want Gary to be alive too.

I stay on the bed, in my hospital attire. Loose-fitting pajama pants and a white shirt with a v-neck and long sleeves that almost reach my elbows. I guess I'm just small. Slippers on my feet keep them warm. It's chilly here, the whole hospital is cold. Everything is cold, nothing has taste, nothing is colorful. Not in my mind, at least. I don't notice taste, sight, smell, feel, anything. I'm too distant, too out of it. My right arm is in a sling because my collar bone was shattered. My stomach is fragile and sore where I was shot. And my heart is still beating. It wouldn't be if Gary hadn't gotten in the way. The angle of the shot would have hit me in the neck, they told me. I would have died right there, a bloody mess of flesh and gore. I shiver. Lee is looking at me, I can feel it. I ignore him.

"You should sleep, Kev. You look tired."

I nod slowly and climb back under the blankets, turning away from him carefully. He sighs. They don't know what to tell me, do they? I was closer to Gary then any of them. He died to save me. Did they blame me? No, Mariah has drilled that into my head.

So that's it then. They just don't know what to say to me. Well that's fair. I have no idea what to say to them. "So… Some hobo tried to kill all of us. Sorry I didn't warn you guys when I first saw him."

Nope. I have to say something though. Before they admit me to psych evaluation.

"I love you."

Wow there, slow down. This relationship is moving to fast. I hear Lee shift.

"I love you too, Kevin." He says after a pause. He means it, too, I can tell. I roll over. He's looking at me.

"Are you going to die too?" I ask childishly. He blinks.

"No, Kev, don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."

I sniffle. Don't cry. "Okay."

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Fofofo. For those of you who care, I have a really good idea for a sequel to Hostage.

Shhhh.