𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 ━━ 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐳𝐳𝐨

FIFTY SIX | save a life

My back is pressed against a wall of lockers, each containing a lifeless body. Tony stands next to me with his back to the culprits as Bernie searches him.

"I-I didn't find nothing." She whimpers lightly.

"The way you're shaking, you couldn't find a shotgun." His gun sits firmly in his right hand and points directly at me.

He approaches Tony's still figure, suddenly digging the weapon into his side before proceeding to search the agent himself.

"Huh." He stands back up in defeat. "Either of you call Security?"

"We don't work here, you bastard." I glimpse at Tony through the corner of my eye as my heart aches from seeing him in pain.

"What about your, uh, doctor friends?" He questions.

"They think we've already left." Tony responds quietly.

"What a pity it would be. . ." A bullet clicks into place. "No need for transportation if the bodies are already in the morgue."

I stand my ground. "If you leave now. . .we can forget this ever happened."

"Would you do that?"

"In a heartbeat."

Without a second thought, Nick hits the magazine of his gun between Tony's shoulder blades, and he tumbles down onto his back.

"Tony!"

"Will you forget now?" The cool metal of the barrell touches my temple. "That's what I thought."

Tony clutches the top of my forearm, eyes closing as he passes out.

"Surgery first, Miss."

"I don't think so."

"You don't think so?"

"You let me help him first, then I'll do whatever you say."

Just when I think he'll agree to my condition, his left hand wraps around my throat and slowly cuts off my breath.

He grimaces. "You're a slow learner."

"I always. . .have been. . ." My throat tightens with each passing second. "If you let me help him. . .I'll help you."

His face inches closer.

"If you don't agree. . .feel free to shoot me."

"Don't hurt her, Nick." A shaking Bernie calls out.

Knocking some sense into himself, Nick releases me with a push to the ground. I scramble towards him, my hands clutching his face.

"Tony? Tony, wake up." I force his eyes open. "Don't you dare pass out on me again."

Once I have him sitting up against the wall, I use my very limited medical knowledge — mostly from watching Grey's Anatomy — to assess him.

"I don't think you have a concussion." My fingers drum against my thigh. "But I can't be sure since I'm not a doctor."

"I've been hit harder." He flashes a knowing grin.

"Oh, I'm sure you have." My eyes squint teasingly.

The tap from a handheld gun brings me back to reality, however. "Enough playing. You need to keep your end of the deal."

"Do it. I don't want you to get hurt." He urges me softly. "Not when I just got you back."

"Well, we are in a hospital." I shrug my shoulders.

"Let's go!"

I walk over to the table with the body as Nick shines a light from overhead. He sets an open scalpel on the skin of his abdomen.