Disclaimer: I don't own "Paul" or any of the characters.

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Well, that certainly was fun. I mean, what can possibly beat meeting a real alien? And all those car chases and gunfights… And we all made it alive and well. Although my nose might be broken, I think it's not such a big deal, considering that a lot of much worse things could have happened.

I still feel my heart beating fast as I shake Agent Zoil's hand (LorenzoZoil, huh!) when I suddenly hear someone call Ruth's name. I turn my head and see a man with a shotgun – it's Ruth's father. He's aiming at Paul… Ruth reacts before I can even think of anything, pushing him to the side. Graeme jumps in, too, and being behind them, I can't see Mr. Buggs. It all just happens so fast… and then there's a gunshot. Frozen, I look at my friends to see if anyone is hurt. They seem to be as shocked as I am, though I can't see their faces, still standing behind them.

"That was close," I hear Graeme's voice, and I feel such a relief… Everybody's fine… But something's not right. Lorenzo, Ruth and Paul seem to be just staring at Graeme for some reason.

"Oh my," Graeme suddenly exclaims. He sounds wrong. He sounds weak… or hurt. Just as I realize what is happening he falls down, and I finally see it. An enormous wound on his chest.

"Oh God, Graeme!" Ruth and I both rush to my friend and lift him up slightly. Thiscannotbehappening I take his hand and he clutches it with all his strength.

"Oh no," he nearly sobs, "I really liked this T-shirt…"

I can't even look at his face. A short glance at the grimace of sheer pain is more than enough, I can't stand it. Instead, I can't stop staring at the wound, as if hoping it will disappear somehow, or it will all turn out to be not real. It's all my fault… I suggested this trip. We shouldn't have come on holiday.

I must have said some of that out loud because Graeme clutches my hand even tighter.

"No, no, no, it's fine… it's fine, Clive," his voice is so weak that it almost physically hurts every time I hear it. "You know, we've had a good time, haven't we?"

Goodtime.

"Yeah," it's like my own voice is coming from somewhere else. "But you got shot".

I can't stop staring at his wound. I'd give anything to be able not to see it… He tries to say something but a horrible croaking sound comes out of his mouth. I shiver. It might be the most horrible thing I have ever heard.

"Yeah, I know, but I can honestly say, Clive, this is the most fun I have ever had," he states quickly. His breathing becomes more and more forced and troubled.

No… Oh God, no. I told you I would never leave you, Graeme. Why are you leaving me then?

But I don't have the time to say anything. After a few seconds of struggle he goes completely limp. His hand starts to slip out of mine but I don't let it go and hold on to it as tightly as I can, as if hoping that I can pull him back.

I keep calling his name, and my voice is mixing with Ruth's sobs. I feel tears in my eyes but they don't come out, choking me from the inside. Paul comes up to us, and suddenly I see grief in hie huge eyes turn into determination. Maybe there is still hope?...