Seth's POV

"How about n-"

"No."

I purse my lips as my unfinished question gets answered with the same word, for the sixth time. A few awkward seconds later, I nod curtly to myself and continue rocking my head from right to left to the faint sound of a pop song on the radio, looking at the illuminated entrance of a building just a few feet away from my car. Just as Niall is.

To say that I'm nervous about what's supposed to happen tonight would be an understatement. And I can only imagine how he feels about it – I can literally only imagine it, because he isn't showing any emotion. He's just sitting in the passenger seat, staring at the door that's guarded by a bouncer, with a blank face. I've taken enough glances at him to know that he's probably not going to do anything for another hour or so.

"I feel like we're those guys from Supernatural," I decide to break the silence, my voice a little high as I haven't said anything for a good few minutes. To my surprise, Niall reacts to my somewhat desperate attempt to get him to speak, and just snorts.

"Dean and Sam?"

"Yeah."

"Because of the car, or..?"

"Well, yeah, and we're also just sitting here and staring at a place where we know shit is going to go down."

I was expecting him to say something like 'that's stupid' or just, just anything else, but he stays quiet after my explanation. Just when I'd lost all hope in getting him to talk before we do this, he speaks up.

"You're Sam, I hope you know that," Niall mumbles, and I smile; mostly only because he's talking.

"What?" I frown soon after, "Why should I be Sam?"

"Why would you be Dean?"

"Well," I begin, looking around the car. "For starters, I'm older than you and the Impala is mine. Dean is older than Sam and the car is his."

I take a sharp breath through my nose after my explanation, looking over at Niall, who surprises me when he starts shaking his head with a small smile. "What?" I say, rather urgently. "What are you smiling about?"

"You're still Sam."

I sigh, for a second forgetting about what we're here for in the first place, and start shaking my head too. "How am I Sam, I'm literally-"

"Your name beings with S, your hair is almost as long as his, you're as big as a car, you're scared of clowns, I'm always looking after you and that's just off the top of my head, if you gave me a few minutes I'd probably make a list longer than any essay you've written in your life."

I burst into a loud laughing fit, squeezing my eyes shut and clapping my hands together; Niall is lucky he got to finish that statement, I was holding my laughter in the entire time. "Wow," I breathe out after a minute as he takes a few deep breaths – he did say all of that in just one breath, after all. "Are you implying that you're Dean?"

Looking over at him, I smile lazily again as he shrugs. "I've short hair, I'm starting to drink more often and I'm developing a cowboy accent. Pretty much."

I shut my eyes in laughter again; a cowboy accent. Must be from hanging out with me so much, I brought my accent with me when I moved from Texas. "And you're always looking after me?" I add to the list, smiling again as he shrugs, again.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but I am."

"Aren't I the one looking after you tonight, though?"

He furrows his eyebrows, letting out a puff of breath at my words. "Are you sure you can do it?" He asks in a high pitched voice, his question making me sigh. As if we hadn't been over this already. "I mean, I kinda just dragged you into it without asking-"

"Niall, my only job is to call the police without having anyone see me, if I don't do that right then I need to reevaluate my life," I quickly say in a monotone voice, glancing at the double door of the club. "Besides, if something 'bad' happens, my mom is Italian and I've lived in Detroit for fifteen years. I practically scream mafia."

Niall snorts at my words, frowning as he looks at me for the first time in pretty much half an hour. "How is your mafia ancestry supposed to help me?"

That doesn't even make any sense. "Well, you know," I begin, shifting in my seat and kind of avoiding his eyes. "I don't really have a problem with physically hurting someone." That was a lie; I don't have a problem at all with physically hurting someone. As long as it's not a girl. But I'm pretty sure I won't have to deal with girls tonight. Which is sort of ironic since we're going to a strip club, it rains girls in there.

"Well," Niall interrupts my thoughts, causing me to blink a few times and look at him, looking at the club like I was a second ago. "I'm sure you won't have to... physically hurt anyone."

"I'm just saying-"

"Stop saying it."

I narrow my eyes at the side of his head, as he clenches his jaw; people like him annoy me so much, first he complains about having to do everything by himself and then refuses anyone's help. I wouldn't want to live with him. "Are you even sure you want to do th-"

"Yes."

At least one thing he's sure of. "Okay," I say slowly, inspecting his ever-blank face. "Are you sure she's worth it?"

He closes his eyes for a second, before continuing to stare at the building. "Yes."

"You love her, don't you?" I ask in an amused tone, earning an eye-roll from Niall; he knows I'm going to tease him about Freya- or whatever her weird-ass name is, so I'd cut the tension before we do this.

"Yes."

I grin wider, leaning back in the tattered seat of my car. "Have you told her?"

"Yes," He answers quickly, looking up and shrugging a bit uneasily just a few seconds after. "In Irish."

I look around the small space of the car, confused for a second. I almost want to ask him if she understands Irish like he does, but then I realize, "And when she asked you to translate it, you didn't tell her it means I love you, did you?"

"Were you there?" Niall asks in an annoyed slash disbelieving tone, earning another laugh from me. "I didn't."

"You should have," I tell him, sighing as I look at the door of the club yet again. For how long are we going to be doing this? "Then she might not think you're out of your mind for doing this."

To my slight surprise, Niall shakes his head in a frustrated manner, sitting up as if he's going to leave the car. Wait, he's gonna leave the car? We're leaving the car? "Whatever, can we just... do this and go home?"

I blink a few times, sitting up myself. "Alright," I say quickly; the reality and what we're actually doing hitting me like a shovel. "Focus on the prize while you're doing it."

Niall doesn't really respond to my attempt to joke, instead he just nods and unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door slowly. "Hey, another thing," I say and grab his shoulder, making him look over at me. I throw on the best serious tone I can and look him dead in the eye, "Just- just don't die, okay?"

He rolls his eyes, yanking his shoulder away from me, "Snap out of it, Sam," He drags the word out, slamming the door shut a little too hard as he gets out of the car. Grinning, I walk out too and jog around it to reach him. Cracking jokes is what I usually do when the situation gets too serious, and the fact that I can't do it now is making me a little uncomfortable.

After we've shown our IDs, we're walking down the familiar hallway of the club once again. Well, it's familiar to me. I don't think Niall's been in here after our last time a couple of months ago. "Are you okay?" I ask loudly, over the music coming from the room a door away.

"Besides wanting to shit myself and pass out?" Niall asks in a serious tone as we reach the door, and I almost take him seriously. "I think I'll live."

I hope you'll live too. "Okay," I say in my normal voice, and I'm pretty sure he didn't even catch the word as he opened the door. A few slow seconds later, we're inside and looking around; although I've no idea who we're looking for.

"Have you fou-"

"He's at the bar," Niall cuts me off, and if I wasn't standing so close to him I probably wouldn't have heard him. "And he's looking at her."

First I look down at him; he's got his eyes glued to one of the people standing at the bar, avoiding to look across the room where the show is being held. He doesn't want to look at it, and I can understand him. He just knows that Greg, or Craig, or whatever the psycho's name is, is looking at her. I'm really bad with names.

"Okay," I say again, looking at the bar – I spot a few familiar faces, but only one that has a psychotic look in their eyes, a creepy smile on their face and is looking at one of the girls across the room like she's a piece of meat. That has to be our guy.

"Okay," I repeat, my nerves getting the better of me as I pat Niall on the shoulder. "Good luck."

He doesn't respond to my words; he just shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, even though it's like a million degrees in the room, and stumbles over to the man that, in fact, is our guy. I purse my lips as he stands next to him, and begins a conversation of some sort; there is no way the plan will go wrong, Niall looks like a midget standing next to the guy. He might be even taller than me, which is stupendous because no one is taller than me, which means that our plan might go a little too right for our liking. Like righter than we would want it to go.

Gulping at the thought, I avert my eyes from them and try acting normal, like it's not my first time here because, well, it's not. Some of the workers even know me.

I take a seat at an empty table in the somewhat deserted part of the club, pulling out my phone to try and pass the time. I refuse drink offers from several waitresses, feeling like I'd vomit if I put anything into my system, and keep glancing at Niall and- and Craig. I do a double-take a few minutes later, when I notice Craig furrowing his eyebrows at Niall, and clutching the bottle of beer in his hand a lot tighter than needed, as Niall keeps talking about something – that's my cue.

Clearing my throat, I discreetly stand up and start walking toward the exit of the room, desperately trying to maintain a normal pace and a straight face as I walk out. I offer the bouncer a tight smile as I walk out, and casually stroll to the nearest payphone.

I keep my head low as I dial the number, knowing that there's at least one camera in the small space. I don't even know why I'm trying to hide my face; if the police got the video of me having the phone call, it'd only look more suspicious.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I would like to report a fight," I say, my voice sounding more casual than it should. I should stop trying so hard. "This Obelix-sized guy attacked an Asterix-sized guy in a club I'm in, and they were just having a normal conversation a few seconds before it happened."

I make sure to let the woman on the other side know that the bigger guy – Craig – attacked the smaller guy – Niall. I give the operator the name of the club, and the name of the street, before calmly ending the call, and leaving the boxy space. Nodding at the bouncer I enter the club again, already hearing noise from the other room that I didn't hear when I first walked in with Niall.

"Good lord," I mumble to myself, the panic that's been bubbling inside me the entire day finally overboiling as I hear shouting and screaming behind the large glass door. I run down the long, narrow hallway as fast as I can, my heart threatening to explode as I enter the other room.

Mayhem. Absolute anarchy. This is what all hell breaking loose actually looks like. No music, every one of the roughly 100 people in the room screaming and yelling, some crying, the girls who are supposed to be using the poles to entertain people holding onto them for dear life, while looking across the room, terrified. Then again, everyone's looking at that part of the room terrified.

What the actual fuck, I literally left less than five minutes ago; the scene in this place is making me think that I should have called the police while Niall was walking into the god-forsaken room, not wait. I shouldn't have waited at all, but he didn't tell me everything would happen so fast. He didn't tell me everything would go this right so fast.

I push through the crowd of terror-stricken people, with slight difficulty because everyone is just running in every direction possible. Just as I'm a few feet away from the bar, I hear a heart-wrenching sound that I could recognize even if it woke me up in the middle of the night; glass against bones. Meaning a glass bottle against a body part... meaning Craig's bottle of beer that he was clutching earlier against Niall's head.

Swallowing my dinner as I hear a body slump onto the floor and even more screams, I practically rip the remaining few people out of my way and almost step onto the unconscious body on the floor. At this point I'm not even panicked, or scared; all of my feelings have turned into pure rage. No. Nobody does this to my friends.

With clenched teeth, I lunge at the man that's still assaulting my – hopefully alive – best friend, practically turning him on his stomach from kicking him so hard. I put all of my energy into pushing him away, but to my absolute shock, he only stumbles back a few steps. He isn't just Obelix-sized; he is the actual fucking Obelix. Only he looks like a damned bodybuilder.

The look in his eyes as he scans my face scares me a little, but everything is interrupted when I hear several men shouting 'police'; for the first time in my life that sound is music to my ears, but it doesn't stop Craig from trying to fling himself at me – he only manages to tackle me onto the ground before three or four police officers rip him off of me.

My heart is beating in my ears as I sit up, feeling a little dizzy from hitting my head against the floor. Although, it's nothing compared to seeing Niall a foot away from me, turned on his back and a few people trying to see if he's okay- if he's alive. I knew this would happen, as soon as he told me about the curly guy's plan – to provoke Craig and let the police see him beat the living shit out of someone. In our case, Niall, and I knew he should have let me do it when I offered to do it a million times, instead of him. Stupid Niall, ugh, even if he's dead, he's still stupid. And I'm dying to know what he said that pissed him off so much.

I don't even give a fuck about what people might think as I pull myself on my knees and crawl over to him, straddling his waist and desperately trying to wake him up, or at least assure myself that it's possible for him to wake up. I let out a intermittent breath as I feel his pulse, and actually feel his vein moving under my fingertips. A lot slower than I'd like it to, but it's still a pulse.

After I've composed myself enough, I concentrate on shaking him and lightly slapping him to get some sort of reaction from him. "Come on, come on," I say in a desperate tone, all of a sudden realizing that I'm actually on the verge of tears. If we make it through this alive, I'm taking the fact that I almost cried because of Niall to my grave.

A few unsuccessful moments later, I'm forcefully pushed to the side, and at first I think it's someone from the police or the ER but- it's Freya. Freya in her sparkling red outfit, bouncy curly hair, lips redder than blood and face more frightened than anyone else's I've ever seen.

"Niall?" She shouts, panicked as she shakes and slaps him way harder than I did. "Niall! Fucking wake up, you fucking idiot, you- ugh!"

She abruptly stops trying to get a reaction from him a few seconds later, and just stares down at him in shock; I look down too, and I'm shocked myself when I notice his eyes half-opened, his breathing quick and shallow and, overall, he looks just as terrified as anyone here is. Well, I could have done that too.

"Niall?" Freya repeats his name in a whimper, holding his face in her hands now, not caring that her palms are covered in his blood. He blinks at her a few times, his eyes more lidded by the second. Eventually he reaches up, his forearm covered in blood as well as he pulls her down by the back of her neck, and I initially lean toward his face too, so I'd hear him if he has anything to say.

"Tá grá agam duit means I love you."

I blink once, completely lost as I stare down at his bloody face, waiting for him to say anything else- absolutely anything else, but he just keeps staring at Freya for another few seconds, before I notice his eyes roll in the back of his head and close, his arm falling onto the ground as he becomes unconscious again. And just like that, all of our panic returns to our senses.

Freya looks perplexed as well, but unlike me, her expression goes blank a couple of moments later; she obviously knows what he was talking about before he passed out. "No!" She shouts desperately, scaring me a little as she shakes him even harder than before. You'd think someone who wanted to be a brain surgeon would be handling the situation better; but then again, this is Niall. You can't handle a bad situation a good way if Niall is a part of it.

"No, no, no, no!" She keeps shouting- she's crying as the words leave her mouth. "No, I love you too, I love you too, you can't do this to me now! You can't- fuck!"

I look up at her to see a man dressed in pale green dragging her away from Niall, a second before another man in the same clothes starts dragging me away. I'm still feeling dizzy from hitting my head against the floor, so I let him take me... wherever it is that I'm being taken. Unlike Freya, I'm not trying to fight him and, well, I'm not crying. I keep telling myself that, even though he's in a shitty state, he's alive, and he can only get better from here. This time tomorrow, all of us are probably going to be okay.

Key word – probably.

*******

SHE LOVES HIM TOO PEOPLE ANd where can i buy a friend like seth, does anyone have an ebay link???? :(

please vote and comment? i'd lovelovelove to hear what everyone thinks bc this is an important chapter and it was hard to write. and i'm updating from school ehe :] i love you xx