Won't Turn Out Right

Johnny clenched his fists tightly, shifting in the clunky, cold handcuffs. He moved with a purpose and a new-found confidence as he walked down the hospital hall. There were two policemen on his side gripping his shoulders, and one behind him holding a rifle. The halls on this floor had been cleared for him. Just in case.

There was a nurse waiting by the door, glancing at him nervously, biting her lip.

"We just got him to fall asleep again. Is now really the best time?" She avoided Johnny's eyes, looking to the cops.

"Yes." She flinched at Johnny's cool voice. "It is." She swallowed and stepped aside, moving to her desk.

Johnny, Officer Ryan, and another cop pulled into the parking lot of the apartment building across from the train station. Before Johnny could say anything, the two cops got out of the car, leaving Johnny in the back seat.

"Hey! Hey!" He beat on the glass window. "You can't leave me here!" Officer Ryan turned back, looking Johnny dead in the eyes.

"We can't trust you to come with us. We know you're not going anywhere locked in the back of a cop car. We have it handled. We'll be back." He rushed off, leaving Johnny there fuming. There were no handles on the inside of the door and the glass was thick. There was a cage separating him from the front seat.

He glanced out both windows, nervously. He saw the side of the station but couldn't see anyone past the two big cement pillars in the front. It was unnervingly quiet.

Johnny licked his lips and shuffled into his room. It was dark until one of the cops flicked on the light switch, and for some reason his action made Johnny nearly jump. He cleared his throat, composing himself. Was he nervous?

He looked to the bed. Pressed in between the bleach-white sheets was a sleeping man with pale skin and shocking dark hair. His skin was marred by burns by his neck and right ear. There was gauze pressed down onto those areas. His wrists were restrained to the bed, forcing his arms to his sides. Johnny lifted his chin up, walking to him. He looked back to the cops who stood in the doorway, guns tight in hand. He sat down in the chair next to the bed, moving slowly.

"Zacky?" Johnny mumbled out. The sleeping man's lips twitched into a frown, and his eyebrows flinched and scrunched together. His eyes opened suddenly, his green eyes dull and quiet, staring up to the ceiling.

"Johnny." Zacky's eyes shifted to his with a sigh, and Johnny clenched his fists and jaw. "What are you doing here, Johnny?"

"I just wanted to check up on you." Zacky chuckled, his voice laced with uneasiness and pain.

"Is that right?"

A shot rang out, echoing and bouncing off the buildings. Johnny scrambled to the window again, beating on the glass.

"Hey! Hey, let me out! Shit!" He threw his fist into the padded seats. "Fuck!"

"Got a problem?" Johnny growled. His mind went back to the cops behind him, poised with guns at the ready.

"You betrayed us, Johnny. What do you think?" Johnny scoffed.

"You stupid bastard. I was never apart of your team. You betrayed me." Zacky lifted his arms up, and let out a frustrated sigh when they didn't budge very far.

"Fuck you, Johnny. Fuck you." He let out a couple deep breaths and Johnny sat back in the chair. "I should be dead. I'm not dead. It's your fault. I should be dead." Johnny scrunched up his eyebrows.

"What?" Zacky closed his eyes, letting a pained expression fall onto his face.

"I wanted to die. Why won't He let me die?"

"He?"

"He."

The sound of sirens in the distance grew louder. Johnny's heart beat in his ears.

"Somebody let me out!" There was no one to hear him. He thought.

There was a tap on the glass of the car. Johnny looked to his left, startled.

"Oh, shit. Matt?"

Zacky kept his eyes closed.

"What did you think was going to happen, Johnny? That night? What did you think was going to happen? You were going to be a hero? Avenge your girl's death and live happily ever after?" A pained smirk spread across Zacky's lips. "What did you think was going to happen?" Johnny swallowed.

"I... I don't know."

Shadows smirked and waved lightly. His eyes were wicked, filled with malice and anger. Johnny could barely hear past his screaming heart.

"Thank God, you got to let me out. They- they caught me. I was just about to-" The cock of a gun was heard behind him, and Johnny turned to the right window to see Brian with a gun in his hand. Johnny started to pray.

"I think I wanted justice. That's all I could think about, Zacky." Zacky opened his eyes finally and Johnny noticed how blood-shot they were.

"You want to talk to me about justice?" Johnny shifted in his seat.

"You asked."

"Yeah, but what did you think was going to happen?" Johnny sighed.

"I thought you were all going to die." Zacky nodded.

"Me too. Pity."

"We should kill you. Right fucking now." Matt's words were a little muddled through the thick glass, but his point was clear. Johnny turned back to him.

"Then fucking do it." Glass was suddenly smashed behind him, and he was grabbed by Brian. He was pulled out through the window, getting cuts on his back and sides. He was shoved to the ground, hitting his head on the asphalt. Brian stepped on his arms as he was forced onto his back. "Fuck," Johnny groaned out. He heard footsteps walked around from the other side of the car to his.

"Okay."

"But, do you understand, Zacky?" They had locked eyes.

"I understand a lot of things. More than people think I do." His eyes flickered to the officers behind Johnny. "I've been spit on my entire life. I have to understand."

Johnny closed his eyes and when a shot went off, Johnny was a little disappointed that he wasn't dead.

"Fuck!" He opened his eyes to see Brian gripping his arm tightly, his face twisted in pain. The gun had dropped to the ground. Matt started to back up, with his hands up by his shoulders.

"Stop moving, Sanders, or I'll fucking shoot. And, I won't aim for just an arm or a leg, either." Johnny grabbed Brian's gun, aiming it right back at him. Suddenly, Matt took off running, and Ryan fired. But, Matt didn't go down. He ran past the cars and buildings, and Ryan and the other cop started off after him. That was just enough of a distraction for Brian to knock his gun out of Johnny's hands and take off running. Johnny let out a frustrated scream.

"I'm not going to let you get away, Brian! You bastard!" He tackled him to the ground, landing in two punches before Brian used his good arm to punch back. "You fucking killed her! You fucking killed her!" Brian laughed and smirked.

"Still upset about that?" Johnny reached for the gun but couldn't quite reach it. "Kid, you have to learn to let go. Forgive and forget." He pushed Johnny off of him, still cradling his bleeding arm to his chest. He reached for the gun, but Johnny kicked him in the head. Brian grunted as Johnny tackled him again, punching him over and over again.

"I'm going to bleed you dry, Synyster."

"She's alive, isn't she?" Zacky's voice was disappointed.

"Yes."

"I should be dead." He clenched his fists again and started to laugh painfully. "He'll come for me. And you. We both failed." Johnny felt sick and looked down to his handcuffs. "It's just a matter of time."

"Did Matt and Brian ever talk about a back-up plan?" Zacky's eyes grew dark and nervous, gaining some sort of life.

"What did you hear?"

"I heard New Jersey."

Brian felt a burst of strength and kicked Johnny in the stomach hard, pushing him backwards. They both stood up and started running again. But, Brian was faster. He started laughing as he weaved through the cars, dodging into an ally, leaving Johnny in the dust. Johnny let out a frustrated cry. He felt tears spring to his eyes, but he pushed them back. Now was not the time to start crying.

"That's really all I know."

"What's in Jersey?"

"Nothing."

"Seriously?" Zacky shrugged lightly, wincing.

"Every other plan we had in place... doesn't work anymore. The last ditch was Jersey. Far away. All I know."

"At least that gives us a chance to get away, too." Zacky glared.

"No, you idiot, we're going to jail. We'll be right where they want us. Idiot. He'll get us when he wants us." Johnny averted his eyes. "He'll probably even blame us for Jimmy's death." Johnny flickered back nervously to Zacky.

"But-"

"Or, at least, they'll certainly blame you." Johnny paused.

"Jimmy still won."

"What do you mean he's dead? He was supposed to go on trial, too. He wasn't supposed to die!." Johnny ground his teeth together, widening his eyes in shock.

"He fired on us first."

"He would."

"It just happened. Are you really that upset?" Johnny crossed his arms, looking away from Ryan, digging his feet into the ground.

"I don't know."

"You're really surprised he's dead, Seward?" Johnny let out a frustrated sigh.

"No. Shut up." Johnny uncrossed his arms, holding them out. "Let's just get this all over with." Ryan slapped on the cuffs, sticking him in the back of a different police car.

He was glad that Jimmy was winning the bet. Charity would probably still live to see at least another year. Unless she got hit by a bus or got eaten by a shark, of course. But, that wouldn't count. No one would win after that. There's still eleven months left in the bet. It all counted on how long Charity could hold it together.

"So when will you visit again?" Zacky asked with a soft sarcastic smile, eyes closed. Johnny rolled his eyes.

"Goodbye, Zacky." He stood up, wandering back over to the two cops.

"You look good for a dead man, Johnny." Zacky's voice was quiet. Johnny didn't turn around.

"You too." He was taken by the arms and led back down the hallway.