Danny stares at the handmade cuckoo clock on the brick wall of Luci's apartment, trying not to wince as what feels like a fist pounds on the inside of his skull. Once, he might have been proud that his handiwork was treasured enough to earn a place of honor in his friend's living room, but now, as he gazes at the steadily ticking clock, it only serves to remind him of his ever-decreasing time limit.

     Fifteen minutes is cutting it awfully close, his mind distantly notes, and a part of him wants to get up and run out the door as fast as he can, to get away from the other four people occupying the room and insure their safety. But another part, the selfish part, wants to spend as much time as possible with the people he cares about before he does what he has to, and it's that part that keeps him rooted to the old floral-patterned sofa that Luci got at a garage sale for $80.

     The voices that started subtly threading their way through his thoughts only two weeks ago have reached a deafening crescendo; Danny can barely hear his own thoughts over the dozens of whispers, though the individual words are mostly lost in the sea of incoherent mumblings and ragged screams.

     He winced. Mostly.

     Pathetic. Selfish. You don't deserve their love.

     Fourteen minutes. Danny pinches the bridge of his nose to try and lessen the pounding between his eyes. It doesn't do much good. The headache is another thing that has increased over the last couple of weeks, the voices refusing to leave him alone long enough for him to get a full night's rest. He couldn't quite contain his terrified yelp after he woke up from a particularly bad nightmare last night, but if Tucker heard it he didn't say anything when Danny stumbled into the kitchen at six am that morning looking for coffee like a zombie looking for fresh brains.

     Thirteen minutes. He goes to scratch his jaw and feels his hands shake. He clenches them into fists and lets them fall into his lap.

     Danny isn't afraid of what he has to do. He's always known that it would come down to this. Danny's afraid of what it will to do to the people he loves. He hasn't told them, and even if he could, what would he say? Nothing that would make them understand that this is the only way he can truly protect them. Nothing they would want to hear.

     It's his own fault anyway. He shouldn't have let anyone get close. He knew that they'd only get hurt in the end, but...

     Danny didn't sleep last night. This was the fourth night in a row, and the shadows under his eyes looked more like bruises. He kept bumping into people as he was walking down the hall, too sleep deprived to care that Brad Davidson pushed him against the lockers and threatened to knock his teeth in if Danny ever touched him again.

     He trudged into World History two seconds after the tardy bell rang, but Mrs. Dobson still gave him detention. Danny couldn't find the energy to protest. He sat down in his usual seat, decided that the universe owed him a nap, and passed out before his forehead hit the desk.

     Not even fifteen minutes later, Danny jolted awake with a quiet gasp that sounded like a gunshot in the silent room. Eyes swiveled to his spot at the back of the class, and Danny hunched his shoulders at the sudden unwanted attention.

     "Ah, Mr. Rivera. So nice of you to join us. Tell me, since your outburst has so effectively captured the attention of your peers, can you name the last pharaoh of Ancient Egypt?"

     A couple kids snickered. Danny's face felt like it could burst into flames at any moment. He almost wished it would. He was about to shake his head and accept what would surely be another detention when he noticed the kid next to him blinking rapidly behind thick, rectangular glasses. Danny stared at the kid in a sleep-deprived stupor before something clicked and he recognized the seemingly random pattern of short blinks and long blinks.

     "...Cleopatra," he answered, fingers crossed that his guess on the last five letters was right.

     Mrs. Dobson nodded and called the class's attention back to her. Danny, however, looked to his right and mouthed a very relieved, "Thank you."

     And he actually got a smile back.

     Runt. Worthless. Weak. You should have died with your mother.

     The familiar voice more than the cruel words brought Danny back to the present. He looked at the clock again. Eleven minutes. The pounding in his head worsens.

     Danny's eyes scan the room, pausing more than a few times to study the faces of his friends. Tucker's glasses keep sliding down his nose as he animatedly regales a colorful moment shared between him and a pretty Target employee. Kate rolls her eyes at what was surely a horrible pickup line gone wrong, the small smile on her face betraying her true feelings.

     Ten minutes. He really should be leaving, but it hurts to think and it hurts even worse to move so he just breathes deeply and prays that the headache will lessen just the tiniest bit.

     I'll be seeing you very soon, boy.

     Danny shivers and tries once again to ground himself by watching his friends. Dante shoves the last breadstick into his mouth to keep from laughing at Tucker's misfortune, almost choking on it instead. Luci lazily flicks her wrist and another slice of pepperoni pizza floats from the open pizza box to settle onto her plate.

     He'll miss them. He'll miss Tucker's caring smile and Kate's witty sarcasm, the way Dante loses himself in whatever song he's playing and how Luci's face lights up in a crooked but still beautiful smile whenever he asks her about magic.

     Nine minutes. Are there bells now? Danny can't tell. He knows he needs to move, but his skull feels as if it's about to split open. He clutches his ears to try to muffle the noise, but it just gets louder and he screws his eyes shut in an attempt to find some amount of relief. It doesn't help, nothing helps at this point, and Danny's ashamed of his next thought.

     It'll all be over soon.

     You will never escape me.

     Danny flinches and takes a huge, shuddering breath.

     Don't worry about him. He's dead. He can't hurt you anymore.

    Danny hunches over in his chair and twists his fingers into wavy, dark brown hair, trying to drown the voices out with the old mantra. He forgets to keep his eyes on the clock as he sits there, screaming in his own mind, desperate for just a moment of silence.

     Then a sharp noise startles him from his trance. His spine snaps upright, eyes searching frantically for the sound's source, but soon they land upon the figures of Tucker and Luci standing over him and his racing heart slows.

     "Hey man, you okay?" Tucker asks, eyes wide with worry behind those thick nerd glasses that he refuses to ditch, and Danny has to clench his teeth against the gut reaction to tell him everything. He wants to, God, he wants to, but he also wants to preserve their last few moments with him, his last few moments of true peace.

     Selfish. Weak.

     "Yeah, I'm just-,"

     "You're crying," Luci interrupts, and a fresh, traitorous tear falls down Danny's cheek in answer. He hastily wipes it away and tries to give her a placating smile, but his temples give a nasty throb and he grimaces instead.

     "I'm good, really. Just tired. Spent all night studying for Barker's exam."

     Tucker and Luci exchange looks before Tucker lets out a small puff of air and gently lowers himself onto the creaky sofa next to Danny, close but not in Danny's personal space; his gaze is full of so much care and concern that Danny feels guilt settle heavily in his veins.

     Selfish. You don't deserve their love.

     "Danny, please, tell us what's wrong. You've been acting weird all week. You keep zoning out, our aspirin supply is lower than it should be, and whenever you're not staying up all night 'studying', I hear you crying out in your sleep."

       You will never escape me.

     Danny glances at the clock. Less than two minutes. His heart stops beating for a solid five seconds and panic sends a spear through his gut. He has to leave, right now leave hurry get out get out get out now he'sgoingtofindthemohGod—

     He shoots up abruptly from the sofa to his feet, swallowing the cry as his vision whites out for a few seconds. He grips the arm of his chair to steady himself, then brushes past his friends, heading for the door.

       You will never escape me.

     "I'm just gonna take a walk if that's okay with you guys, clear my head a bit. See you in an hour or so."

     The lie tastes bitter on his tongue.

     Danny has his hand on the doorknob, but before he can turn it another hand clamps around his arm and wheels him around until he's looking into a pair of fierce caramel eyes.

     "I don't need magic to tell me that you're keeping something from us, Danny. You look like absolute garbage," Luci says, concern and agitation warring in her tone.

     Danny almost allows a small smile to dance across his face at the very blunt, very true proclamation, but one swift glance at the clock kicks his already rapidly-beating heart into maximum overdrive.

     "I'm fine, Luce. I promise," he replies, voice shaky, trying and failing to summon up the happiness he usually feels while talking to her in an attempt to make the smile on his face feel just a little genuine so she'd let go of his arm.

     He knows it didn't work when Luci's brow knits in frustration, a common expression that, under normal circumstances, would make him feel more guilt, but his hands were shaking and the voices were getting so loud so loud so loud—

     "Tell me the truth, Danny."

     You will never escape me.

     "I—I am. Really. I just need some fresh air."

     Her hands start to tingle against Danny's arm, and for a moment he's looking up at someone else's angry scowl and feeling so, so small. The moment passes but the panic doesn't. He tries to twist out of Luci's grip, but she only tightens her hold.

     "Nope. You don't get to walk out of this conversation. You're going to tell me what's bothering you so I can help."

     "Luce, I don't think-" Dante begins, but Luci shoots him a look and he falls silent.

     Danny takes another glance at the clock, his breaths coming out in short pants as he watches the second hand pass six and start making its way toward the twelve. Cold dread blossoms in the bottom of his stomach, and he can't help the spark of anger that accompanies it.

     He's not angry at Luci. She doesn't know, she can't possibly know. It's his fault for being selfish, for wanting more time, but when he opens his mouth to reply the words still come out too loud and too clipped.

     "Nothing, alright? Let me go already," Danny snaps, jerking his arm away from her grasp and spinning back around to face the door in a desperate bid to at least put some distance between him and them.

     "You can't lie to us forever," Luci says, and though her tone is hard Danny can hear the hurt underneath it, "I'll still be here when you get back."

     You will never escape me.

     Danny's heart shatters into a million tiny pieces, each one like a tiny dagger inside his chest.

     He did that. He hurt Luci, and though he was still panicking over the fact that he would be hurting her so much more in mere seconds, he had to leave her with some semblance of truth.

     "I know," Danny says, and he simultaneously hates and doesn't care about the way his voice breaks, "I know, Luce, but I just... I can't."

     Pathetic.

     A hand, gentler than Luci's but just as well-meaning, settles on his arm and Danny looks over his shoulder to see Tucker's small but sad smile.

     And then Danny's entire world lights up in agony.