Disco Madness (jjba5xreader)

[37] Can't Stop The Music

You did the only thing you've been doing since the very start of this madness.

You ran.

You abandoned your comrades- your friends. The people that loved you more than anything in the world. 

You kept telling yourself it was for the better. You said that if you didn't run, 'then your friends would be slaughtered in some horrific way.'

You wished you would have stayed. You longed for the way things were before the attacks. You longed for the endless goofing around, bonding, and safety. 

Especially safety.

You were huddled up in an alleyway looking at a poor drawn-out map you acquired at a gift shop. You've been on the streets for what you assumed to be over a week. 

"God- has it been a godawful week." You mumbled out. Straining your eyes to stay focused and not cross after staring at the map for fifteen minutes straight. 

You've been utilizing Panic a lot, especially. He's been stealing food, beverages, and anything else you may need. 

It was tricky at first.

Everyone was out looking for you the same day you left. You spent the entire afternoon hiding in alleys; and back alleys to those alleys. 

The second day was exceptionally as hard as the first. La Squadra kept themselves together (for the most part) while searching for you. But Bucciarati's team was a different story.

You've seen Narancia trying to hold himself together while Mista joked about the lecture you'd probably get later from Bucciarati. Mista said one joke too many, and Narancia practically pounced on him and proceeded to scream at him.

"Can you go ten minutes without joking, and take this seriously?! (Y/n) is gone and has been gone for over a day, and we have no idea where she could be! So, for ten-fucking-minutes can you be quiet and be serious?!" 

You used the shadows of the alley; to watch Narancia slouch onto Mista and cry. 

It didn't take a genius to know how utterly heartbroken the boy was. 

Mista patted his back and apologized, holding tears of his own back as they continued walking.

You saw other interactions similar to theirs' unfold with other team members. You felt conflicted. You wanted to reach out and comfort them and tell them everything was 'okay' and that you were 'okay,' but you'd know they'd involve themselves more and risk their lives for you.

You didn't want anyone else to die because of you.

You wouldn't know how to carry on with your carefree attitude if you knew someone else died because of you. 

So you kept 'running.'

You were huddled in this alley corner, still. You just kept marking blocks off your map with a pencil, that has nearly been sharpened to death. 

You felt a hand land on your shoulder, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin as you whirled your head around to see your stand looking down at you.

"Jesus, Panic, don't do that shit. I could've died from a heart attack in this heat, ya know." 

Your stand stared blankly down at you before pointing at your map. 

"What about the map?"

He reached forward and gently took the map out of your hand. You watched as he began to fold it up and tuck it into his inner breast pocket.

"Hey! Give that back! I still haven't marked off all the blocks we've walked through yet!" You stood up to try and grab at his shirt. 

He gently grabbed your hand and looked at you. You couldn't see his eyes clearly behind his shutter glasses, but you could tell they were begging you to stop struggling.