The first thing Tyler did was take his shirt off.

His vision was blurry. His ears were ringing. Blood drenched his shirt, his pants, everything. It bubbled out of the wound on the side of his abdomen and ran down his stomach and his legs until it pooled in a dark red puddle at his feet.

Tyler took the shirt and tore it in half, right down the middle. The thin fabric ripped apart easily. He wrapped the shirt around his abdomen as tightly as he could, making a makeshift tourniquet around his wound. He had to stop the bleeding.

Tyler gripped the edge of Brendon's bed and pushed himself up into a standing position.

As soon as he was on his feet, he fell right back over again. His head spun, and his tunnel vision made black spots appear over his eyes. His head pounded as he laid there on the cement floor. He couldn't do this.

Yes he could. I can do it, he told himself. I can.

Survival was a second nature for Tyler. He'd been in situations much worse than this. He had known what to do then, and he knew what to do now. His mind and thoughts shut down, and his instinct took over. He was Mad Gear, the leader of the Clique. He could do this.

Tyler shakily stood to his feet, using all the strength in his body not to collapse. He stood there for a moment, his weak body swaying back and forth.

Then, he gripped his wounded side with his hand, and started walking.

Stupidly, Brendon left the door unlocked. Tyler walked-or stumbled, rather-right out into the dark corridor. No one was around except for him.

"Prolly figured I would be dead," Tyler scoffed under his breath, gritting his teeth and rolling his eyes. Brendon was either really stupid, or really confident in his aim.

Tyler walked slowly at first, blocking as much blood as he could with his hand. When he found he was still standing and not unconscious, he picked up his speed.

He tried to run, but he just stumbled to the side and hit his bare shoulder on the wall. He winced and gripped his wound tighter.

Tyler put his hand on the wall for support and continued, despite the blinding pain coursing through the entire right side of his body.

He squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth.

Josh. He had to get to Josh.

✗✗✗✗✗

Josh started running.

He ran faster than he ever had before. His legs burned, but the pain didn't phase him. He pushed away any and all thoughts in his mind except for one: finding Tyler.

As Josh bolted down the hall, he knew exactly where he was going. Tyler could have been anywhere, but the Green Gentleman's room was the first logical choice.

Maybe he wasn't there. Maybe Brendon took him somewhere else because his bedroom would be the obvious choice-

Josh suddenly skid to a stop and stared wide eyed at the scene in front of him.

Tyler was there, heavily leaning against the wall, a look of stunned, painful shock spread across his face. A trail of blood followed him.

Josh broke out into a smile and simply stared at him for a few seconds before rushing over to him.

"Tyler! Oh my God, you're alive!" Josh laughed despite the situation. He was filled with such joy from finding Tyler, he couldn't stop smiling.

"Y-Yeah," Tyler smiled weakly and nodded. "Now shut up and help me."

Josh laughed again and slung Tyler's arm around his shoulder, helping him walk a few steps.

"I-I'm sorry, I just-" Josh's smile disappeared as he pulled Tyler into him. Blood from Tyler's wound stained his shirt, but he didn't care. He wrapped his arms around Tyler and silently promised himself he would never let him go again.

"-really happy you're still alive," Josh whispered, burying his face in Tyler's shoulder. "You're alive."

"I...I thought I would n-n-never s-see you again," Tyler said. He quickly wiped the tears out of his eyes. He didn't want Josh to see him cry.

"I..." Josh started, but he couldn't seem to find the right words to say. He hugged Tyler tighter.

Tyler winced when Josh squeezed his chest in the hug, and Josh immediately pulled away.

"Are you okay?! What did he do to you-?" Josh rambled, putting one hand on Tyler's cheek and the other on his waist. His eyes widened when he saw the gory, bloody wound on Tyler's side.

"It-It's nothing, J-Josh," Tyler chewed on his lip, looking down at his wound as well. It was definitely something.

"It's something, Tyler!" Josh shouted, anger flaring up inside him. Not at Tyler, but at that damn Green Gentleman. "What did he do to you?!"

Tyler blushed and averted his eyes like a child being reprimanded by their father.

"S-Shot me," Tyler murmured quietly, looking down. He held on to Josh's arm tightly. "Almost point blank. But it wasn't-"

"What if it was?" Josh pressed. "You would be dead, Tyler! Y-You could have d-died. I can't lose you-"

Tyler opened his mouth to say something, but he felt his body become limp. As he shuffled his feet to try to catch himself from falling, his eyes rolled to the back of his head before shutting completely. The back of his knees gave out, and he slowly drifted forward.

He would have hit the cement floor if Josh hadn't been there to catch him.

✗✗✗✗✗

"I'm going to kill that bastard."

"Sir-"

"Don't call me sir. Th-that's Mad Gear, not me. I don't have any authority-"

"Yes you do."

"No I don't-"

"Yes you do."

Josh slammed his fist down on the table, making the Clique member sitting in front of him shut his mouth and shrink back.

"I'm going to kill you too if you don't shut your fucking mouth," Josh growled, narrowing his eyes at the short man cowering before him. For the life of him, he couldn't remember his name. Something with the word blood in it. Cliché, Josh had always thought. He much preferred Missile Kid.

The Clique member nodded and looked down at his lap, brushing his dirty blonde hair out of his eyes. He fiddled with his thumbs and shyly murmured a response. "Yes sir."

"I said stop calling me that!" Josh abruptly stood up so fast his metal chair fell back and hit the floor with a loud CLANG. "Mad Gear's your boss, not me!"

He stood there in dead silence for a solid minute, hazel eyes locked with the bright blue ones before him. His sweaty green hair hung in front of his face. His clothes were soaked in blood-Tyler's blood.

The Clique member set his jaw and stood up. Though he was much shorter than Josh, he adjusted the black fedora on his head and fearlessly stared right back at him.

"If Mad Gear doesn't make it, you're the next in charge," he said with a frown. While he hated the idea of having to take orders from Missile Kid, he hated the idea of Mad Gear dying even more.

The words 'if Mad gear doesn't make it' pierced the silence like a bullet, hitting Josh right in the pit of his stomach. He immediately felt sick. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the back of his eyelids, but the image of Tyler lying there, dead, replayed in his mind like a broken record.

"What's your name?" Josh asked. He was going to call him kid, but he caught himself. Tyler had called him kid. It felt wrong for Josh to call someone else the same nickname Tyler called him.

"Youngblood," the Clique member answered.

"Youngblood," Josh repeated, tasting the name in his mouth. He didn't like it. The name didn't match the person. "For one, Ty...Mad Gear is going to pull through. Two, the Green Gentleman is next in line, not me."

"We used to think that," Youngblood shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms. Josh remained quiet. "But we're not idiots. Mad Gear is obviously closer with you than he ever was with the Green Gentleman. Ask anyone. The whole Clique knows. Common knowledge."

Youngblood was slowly growing on Josh. The fact that his quiet, cute exterior was quickly replaced by his sass and rebellion was a quality that Josh liked.

"Plus," Youngblood held up his index finger and twisted his mouth. "You didn't shoot him like the Green Gentleman did."

Josh scoffed and rolled his eyes. There was his name again.

"I'm going to kill him," Josh murmured darkly, every muscle in his body tensing. "He tried killing Mad Gear. I'm going to kill him."

"Yeah, tried..." Youngblood gulped nervously.

Josh's eyes flitted up to the Clique member sitting across from him. He stared at him, mouth slightly agape.

"What did you say?" He asked slowly. He was on the verge of a furious panic attack. He willed himself to try to stay calm.

"You said tried, sir..." Youngblood continued slowly. "He could've succeeded."

Josh shook his head, anxiety and denial creeping into his brain.

"No," he said, shaking his head back and forth again. "No, that's impossible. He was alive when I found him-"

"-But he passed out," Youngblood interjected. "You said so yourself, he fell unconscious in your arms. The shot was almost point blank. He's lost a lot of blood. He might not survive the operation."

Josh's face went pale.

"It's completely possible that-"

"Shut up," Josh snapped, his hands balling into fists. "Just..." he shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut to stop his tears. "Shut up."

Josh was confused with most everything about the Clique and about life in general, but he was sure about one thing: it was not plausible, not even possible, to live a life without Tyler in it.

✗✗✗✗✗
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Sorry for leaving you on that cliff hanger yesterday. I hope you guys survived. (I really hope you guys survive, because Tyler might not...)

*ahem*

Anyways, shout out to Naepock for reminding me to update. She's the best, go follow her.

Next chapter is up in a few hours! Thanks so much for staying with this book, it means so much that people actually like it.

Love you all ♡

- Liz.