When I was a senior in high school, a smaller underclassman came to a popular school-hosted weekend event with his dad's .38, intent on shooting another underclassman who had been bullying him all year.
The short of it is the small kid was a shy kind of guy, a bit troubled, with access to a gun, but not normally outwardly violent. The bully was the youngest of a dynasty of big Pacific Islander brothers, who had all been stars on the football team. His older brothers were some of the coolest people I'd ever known, but the youngest was just plain dickish, riding their celebrity, so to speak. His brothers could barely tolerate him. He was a mean jock with a violent streak who picked on littler kids.
Myself and another friend talked the kid into just going home after he showed us the piece. I'm a pretty good moderator, but I know I lucked out having my friend with me that day, who was one of the best bullshitters I've ever encountered. Between the two of us we helped prevent God-knows-what kind of badness.
On the one hand, I believe the kid wanted our help. That's why he showed us the gun and told us his plan. On the other hand, when you're that close to somebody that on the edge, and he's holding an actual gun with actual bullets in it, it is scary, period. You can feel the weight of the gun just looking at it. You can feel its potential to do harm.
It never made the papers or anything. We let the kid leave, then told somebody about it. He was off to another school after that. As far as I know, the bully lived to bully on, and may even still be bullying people to this day.