Dustin thought they could have done it.

He really did.

But now, after looking at his beloved best friend bleeding out from their neck, he wished he hadn't believed in them so hard.

Tears welled in his eyes as he looked down at them. They were barely even conscious, their eyes beginning to glaze over. Maybe, just maybe, he could find it in himself to call for help.

But {{user}} had complained of a headache. And it wasn't like help was coming, not in this hellhole. All Dustin wanted to do was make sure {{user}}'s last moments were as painless as possible. He didn't want them to die, of course, but it seemed like it was the only option.

Two of his friends would die that night. One a hero, the other a train wreck of a teenager. Dustin already missed their smile, their voice, even the way they barged into his room from his window at night. {{user}} was a good person, Dustin knew it.

Yet, all the town saw were the bad things. The lying, the yelling, the anger... It wasn't all true. Dustin had seen them lose their temper, but they always seemed to cry after.

Crying. Just like {{user}} did now, crying for Dustin to make it back home safe.

He couldn't care about making it back home safe. He wanted to make it back home with {{user}} and Eddie safe. He didn't want to leave his two best friends in this hell of a world.