Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Luke hisses in pain as he feels a bullet fly past him, grazing his shoulder. He pull his own gun out, aiming it at whoever was shooting him.

“What the fuck do you want?! I don't got shit to give!” He yells out, standing as tall as he possibly could in an attempt to seem intimidating.

“Where's Wildcat? Tell me where he is and you get to leave alive,” some guy barks back at him.

Luke bites his tounge, his face remaining expressionless. Had he stalled enough? Was Tyler gone already? He really hoped so.

“I ain't telling you fuckheads shit!” Luke shoots a single bullet, hitting the man in the leg.

The response he gets is three shots fired at him from three different people, two missing and one digging straight into his arm.

Luke lets his instincts kick in, and prompty begins to run out of the room. He bolts into another room in the little hideout, and then kicks a door open, revealing the hallway.

There's yelling behind him, footsteps right on his tail, and then another gunshot rings out. This one barely hits him, digging into the side of his thigh.

Despite the burning pain in his body, Luke has to keep going. He refuses to die here because he knows he would never forgive himself for dying to these fuckers.

The bullet hitting his leg makes him stumble, though, which allows for them to catch up a little more. And considering Luke ran into a dead end thirty feet away from them, Luke was a little fucked.

Just a little bit, though.

Thinking quickly, he runs into the room at the end of the hall and slams the door shut. He grasps at a lock, only to curse as he realizes that the door doesn't have one. So he does the next best thing and knocks a bookshelf over, blocking the door to some extent.

He climbs up onto the sofa by the window, and kicks it open. Glass shards cut into his arms and legs as he climbs out, but Luke doesn't care. They're breaking the door down now, and just as Luke begins to run along again he hears the door finally breaking open.

The only good news out of all of this is that Tyler seems to have gotten away safely. Which is good, yes, but that also means that Luke might have been digging his own grave the entire time.

“Oh come on, Cartoonz! Why so scared? It's not gonna be that bad if you just tell us where he is!”

Luke knows it's coming, and yet he is just as panicked as before when bullets begin to fly past him.

A third bullet digs into the same leg as before, and he yelps in pain, nearly falling on his face. He forces himself to get up, though, and holds his own gun out with shaky hands.

He fires once, twice, three times, and. successfully gets two out of three of the guys. They fall to the floor, blood pouring out of their heads.

The third guy, however, seems to get tired of chasing Luke around because he runs up and stabs Luke in the side. Luke wasn't sure if he screamed or not. His vision was a little blurry, and his head was spinning. Despite this, he manages to whack the guy on the head with his gun, hard enough to knock him out.

It then occurs to Luke, somewhere in the back of his head, that he is standing in the middle of the street at two-something in the morning, probably three minutes from bleeding to death on the streets.

He doesn't have his phone, and he doesn't know who to go to for help. The police sure as hell aren't an option. Neither is any kind of hospital, because both the hospital and police would surely recognize him as a missing person.

Then it hits him, somewhere amongst the blur of thoughts going through his mind.

Brock. Brock will help you.

He wasn't sure how he found his way to Brock's, or how he even lived long enough to get there. But Luke is pounding on Brock's door, having to use the wall to hold himself up.

The door opens, revealing a tired Brock.

“Hey, Brock,” Luke laughs weakly.

Brock freezes up almost immediately as he sees Luke, his eyes widening and jaw dropping. “Luke! Luke, what- what are you doing here?! What happened to you?!”

“Hah… about that,” Luke says, voice a bit raspy. “Y-you're a med student, right? You mind- you mind patching me up? I got some bullets in my leg, and-”

“Holy shit,” Brock gasps. “Is that a knife in your side?!” Brock quickly pulls Luke inside, making him stumble fowards. He has to hold onto Brock for support as he's led over to the couch and laid down on it.

The last thing he remembers from that night is him seeing Brock's phone light up on the coffee table, showing the date and time.

November 19, 2016. 2:49 AM, almost three days before those guys were supposed to show up.

Fucking assholes, showing up 3 days too early for their damn money. Tyler fucking owes me one for this.

--
a little peek at what Cartoonz is doing, eh?? ;))

also double update bc i love u guys <3