The night was cold and damp, quiet aside from the occasional car that went by. It was late, and Tristan quietly cursed himself for missing his bus home. Still, it wasn’t too bad of a night for walking, and his apartment wasn’t that far from where he worked.
It wasn’t even that long before he was nearing his street, but something was a little… Off. Tristan stopped where he was and looked around, getting that strange, uneasy feeling in his chest… Like someone was watching him, but there was no one else around as far as he could tell. Not even one car had passed by in the past twenty minutes. After a brief glance around, Tristan looked at his watch and sighed. It was almost one in the morning, he would definitely have to get home soon if he didn’t want to wake Niels coming in. He decided to cut through an alleyway on his way back, just to get there a little faster. He wasn’t even halfway down the alley when someone stepped out from the darkness and cut him off.
"Jesus, you scared me," Tristan laughed, putting his palm to his chest. He was a little bit jumpy, sure, but what was this guy doing out here in the middle of the night.
When the man didn’t say anything, Tristan’s smile started to falter a little. “Are you okay?” He asked hesitantly, taking a step forward. He noticed the man was wearing a red hoodie.
"Don’t fuckin’ move," the man said in a demanding tone, making Tristan stop. He put his hands up and laughed nervously.
"Okay, okay," he said, glancing around. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to impose."
"Shut the hell up," the man snapped, and Tristan suddenly became aware of a gun being pointed at his face, barely a few inches from his nose.
"Woah, calm down, you don’t need that… I’m not here to hurt you or anything, trust me," Tristan tried to settle him down, becoming a little panicked himself. This wasn’t good… But he was smart, he had his ways with people. He could talk this guy out of this, right?
"Look," he started, stepping back, his hands still raised. "Just put the gun away, I’m sure we can talk about this. If you need money, I have some, you can have it. You don’t need the gun."
"What the fuck did I just say? Shut the fuck up! Get on your knees!"
He shut his mouth then, slowly lowering himself to the ground. Okay, that hadn’t worked. What else could he do? Before he could really do anything else, the man was barking more orders at him.
"Gimme your wallet, phone, everything," the man demanded, shoving his shoulder with the end of the gun. Slowly, Tristan reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his wallet and phone, setting it on the concrete in front of him. The man reached down and picked them up, going through his wallet and looking through everything. He seemed satisfied, and for a moment Tristan almost felt like he was safe… Like he’d get out of this.
Unfortunately, his luck just wasn’t great that night.
The man yanked him up by the shirt collar and shoved him into the wall, pointing the gun at his temple. Tristan was a little dazed by the suddenness of it, but he quickly tried to focus on what the guy was yelling this time.
"You tell no one, you got it? Especially that brother of yours."
Tristan could only nod, shakily taking a breath. “Right, sure, not gonna say a thing.” He didn’t bother asking how this supposedly random man knew about Niels, deciding it was best to leave it alone.
He let out a sigh of relief when the guy let him go and took a step back. After a moment of tense silence, he heard him speak again.
"You’re lying," the man said accusingly, and Tristan didn’t have time to defend himself before he heard a loud shot that made his ears ring, and suddenly there was a burning pain in his gut. His legs felt weak and he could feel himself sliding to the ground.
A second later the guy was running out of the alley, and Tristan dared to glance down to assess the damage. His hand had gone to the point of entry instinctively, but when he pulled it away he just saw red.
It hurt, that’s all he could say, and he felt a strange coldness washing over him. His feet were getting numb, he noted, but the area around the wound felt oddly warm. He wondered briefly to himself how he was going to get out of this one. It was nearly one in the morning, there was no one around to hear him if he started yelling (which he doubted he even could)
Luckily for him, his “buddy” had dropped Tristan’s phone when he ran off. He managed to crawl over and grab it before he returned to the wall, leaning up against it with one hand pressing into his abdomen, trying to keep the bleeding to a minimum if he could.
He could have called an ambulance, but logically he knew they wouldn’t make it in time to save his life, he was losing too much blood… Instead, he dialed up the number of the only person he really cared about.
After shakily pressing in the number, Tristan put the phone on speaker and let it fall into his lap, listening to it ring. He heard their familiar home voicemail greeting a few moments later.
"…and Tristan…Yannick. Leave a message, bye."
Tristan tried not to think about how weak his voice sounded when he started to speak.
"Hey, Niels. I know you’re asleep, but I just wanted you to know… I love you, and I always will. You’re my brother, hell… You’re probably the best friend I’ve ever had, and I know I said some awful shit to you as a kid ‘cause I was mad but… Listen, I never meant any of it," he could feel himself choking up a little and quickly shook it off. "I love you, and nothing is ever gonna change that, okay? Just… Just be good. I miss you. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Goodnight."
He hung up after that, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. It was getting hard to keep his eyes open, and the cold, numbing feeling he had felt earlier was replaced by an odd warmth that swept over his body like a blanket.
Tristan’s last thoughts were not full of fear, oddly enough. In fact, he felt rather peaceful as he sat there in that cold, dark alleyway. He was surprisingly okay with dying… The only thing on his mind was his brother, and as he felt the life leaving his body, he wondered if Niels would be alright without him.
Course he will, Tristan told himself. He’s always been the strongest one.
He died with a smile on his face.
