It was late at night. Jared was close to going to sleep. They had a few days off of their tour, and thy decided to come home to take a short breather before going back out there. Jared definitely needed it. He was getting cozy, watching a stupid comedy on TV, when suddenly his phone pinged. Raising his eyebrows, the vocalist leaned over and picked it up, checking over the text. It was from an unknown number, something he'd received before, but this time it was... frightening.
His heart skipped a beat and his throat went dry. No. They had to be lying. Whoever this bastard was, they were lying. He tried a quick few texts to Shannon and then settled down again, holding his phone tightly between his hands. He wasn't going to let a stupid text message scare him like that. One minute. Five minutes, Ten minutes past, and still no text message from Shannon. Odd. His brother always responded to him within fifteen minutes. He looked at the time. 18 minutes. Jared swallowed hard again and quickly dialed Shannon's number, pressing the phone to his ear and waited. The dial tone rang... and rang... and rang... before he finally got Shannon's voicemail. With shaking fingers he called again. And a third time. And a fourth.
No reply. No answer. Jared's breathing hitched and he quickly grabbed a sweatshirt and jeans, slipping into them and moving for the door with his house keys in hand. It was probably warmer outside than he was expecting, since he'd been in Europe for so long and now he was back in sunny California, but he didn't care. When he got outside, he noticed the empty and deserted car sitting in his driveway. No. Oh god. Fuck no. He avoided the car at first and went to Shannon's house. The man didn't live too far away, just a couple blocks, and when Jared reached his door he realized his car wasn't in the driveway. He quickly went and knocked, banged on the door even, before using the spare key to get inside.
The house was empty.
Shannon wasn't answering his phone, his car was gone, and he wasn't at home. Jared's heart dropped into his stomach and he read over the text message again, some of his worst fears quickly spiraling into his mind. He was sprinting now. He ran quickly back to his house and stopped in front of the car. Jared couldn't risk this being true. He was in a state of morbid shock, his hands shaking horribly as his breathing quickened. He sat down on the ground, choking on his air and making small pained noises. No, this couldn't be happening. It took him a while to find composure in his sudden attack to message Josh, to get some kind of comfort. The other man was busy. He was somewhere in Europe. Jared had no clue. The messaging did little to calm his nerves. He had to get in a car. He was going to die.
It took him what felt like years to stand up and go near the vehicle. Once he took that step, he took a deep breath in and let it out. Once he climbed into the drivers seat and turned the car on (since the keys were in the ignition), his flashbacks started. Quick and simple.
He was there, panicking and practically sobbing, for what felt like forever. In reality, it took him 30 minutes of non-stop panic before he was out of adrenaline. His body was shaking badly, his eyes were red and his face was tear stained. Everything ached. He'd nearly thrown up. Jared reached his hands out and took the wheel before carefully backing out of his driveway. He hadn't driven in years, and that sickening fear started to envelope him as his continuous memories flashed in and out.
Ignore. Stop. Stop.
Jared drove, though. He drove, in the midst of a few abnormal sounds and pained expressions, with his stomach upset and his body shaking uncontrollably. He took breaks, stepped out of the car on the side of the road to dry heave and try to calm down the shaking, before he was back in the car having his usual visions and flashbacks.
Before he knew it, he was stopped. He parked. Jared robotically got out of the car and stumbled over to the rocky ledge where the security bar had been breached. There was a car down a while into the reveane. His eyes pricked with tears and he clung onto the jagged metal. No. Jared lowered himself down cautiously, and realized it wasn't as steep as it seemed. he stumbled, tripped over rocks, and occasionally fell over. His knees would be cut up, his palms scratched and bleeding, and by the time he was at the bottom he was exhausted. The car was Shannon's. The license plate matched, and the wreckage looked at least an hour old. It smelled like gasoline and fumes were coming from the hood. Jared burst at the sight. He tried peering inside of the metal death trap, but his brother was nowhere to be found. Jared spotted a note, and picked it up with his horribly shaking fingers.
His face drained of all blood, it seemed.
Jared had to drive to New Hampshire. He stumbled back and settled down on the rocks, his breathing getting worse again as he curled in on himself and clutched onto his hair and the note. Shannon was alive, but he had to drive. Shannon had been in another car crash. Jared felt sick to his stomach again. He leaned over and coughed up nothing but saliva, his system completely empty. The singer slumped down onto his side, the smell of gasoline and burning bringing back more memories, bringing back the pain in his head, the cuts on his body, the bruises on his skin, the piercing screams of his brother...
When he came to again, he'd been screaming. He was still alone, lying on the ground, but the visions had gone and he was shaking. He had to go. He had to go. Jared staggered his way to his feet and climbed back up the way he came. When he reached the top, he settled there for a moment to breathe before he made his way back to the car and climbed in. His instincts brought back panic. His fear escalated. He spent ten minutes in a panic attack before he was drained again, staring blankly at the road before he started the car.
He had to go.
