A mouthful of a title, but its for a reason!

This is not my original idea! This idea came from a Game Grumps animated by Rezuaq on YouTube! Its great! So I was inspired to turn it into a fanfic.

ALL CREDIT FOR THIS IDEA GOES TO HIM/HER! I just wrote it down!

The setting of the scene was near dusk. The sun neared the edge the horizon and glowed with a deep orange shine like a flame. Only a few clouds dotted the sky, grey and wispy. All seemed peaceful...

But it was quite the contrary for two men on that evening.

One held a walkie talkie in his right hand, and a tracking device glowing red in the other. He had long, dark brown hair and wore sunglasses as to hide his identity. He also had a sleek, black jacket on to conceal him if he had to flee in the dark. He kept glancing out the window to his left to check for any authorities were coming.

He had a job to do tonight.

The other man, too, had a walkie talkie. It was clutched tightly in his right hand. In the lighting, his locks appeared a black color as well as his short beard that only covered his chin. The guy sported a light grey sweatshirt as well as matching sunglasses that his partner had. He had a grey visor cap to match.

Together, they had a goal; to steal government files and to hand them off to whoever would pay them for it. Very straightforward, the two had done it before.

The man in the grey jersey had made a mad dash across the room he was in. It looked like some sort of office. He nearly tripped on a stray paper as he stumbled into the cover of an office desk.

The files were only a few yards away from their clutches, held in cream metal drawers.

The man in the smooth, black jacket calmly held up his communication device, expecting his friend to come in.

And as luck would have it, he did.

"You have to do, like-" the burglar with the sweatshirt stopped whispering abruptly and began to panic slightly as he crouched lower under the desk. "Oh," he repeated over and over again,"oh, oh. Oh..." the last one was longer than the others.

The man with the tracking device looked at the screen tracking his friend. Four or so red dots appeared on the screen. The machine started to beep in high pitched tones, and loudly.

"Okay..." the hiding robber chuckled slightly with nervousness. Footsteps began to sound from the entrance he came from.

Menacing clicks sounded that were all too familiar...

Guns.

The thief who had been tracking chucked his talking device at the wall and stomped away. They had been caught.

The person caught in the firing zone had heard the machine make an odd clank noise as if it had hit the wall.

"Arin, don't leave." he pleaded as he heard his walkie talkie make a noise that sounded like an opening door.

He took a deep breath.

"ARIN!" he yelled directly into his speaking machine, causing his friend to stop suddenly and turn back to his, tears streaming from under his shades as he picked up his device again. His friend appeared to be hyperventilating as he prepared to say his next sentence.

"I LOVE YOU!" the man in the grey suit cried, tears spilling from his eyes as well.

"No! I'm fucking done!" He announced heatedly, "I'm fucking done!"

"No you're not!" laughed the grey-suited man hysterically as bullets whizzed past him.

"This is bullshit!" Arin growled as more red dots appeared on the screen.

"I'm gonna cry..."

"This is fucking bullshit!" he now roared as the red spots appeared to multiply and circle around his friend like a lion pride surrounds a wildebeest calf.

"I can't," the hysteric man now sounded like a hyena, "I can't get off!"

"What is this?!" demanded the tracker has he snatched his glasses off of his face, revealing his brown eyes with tears now running like a river and dripped down his waterproof coat.

"I can't get off!" he reported again.

"What is this?!"

"I'm stuck!" he heaved, his dust grey sweater absorbing his warm tears.

"What is my life?!" Arin shrieked like a madman as he snapped his glasses in two, dark colored shards shattering at his feet.

Only static answered him, all the two heard instead were the hungry shouts of the men who were currently shooting at the man hunkered down behind a desk than was making pinging noises from the charging ammo.

Arin took a deep breath.

"I can't do it, Jon!"

"I can't either!" Jon agreed.

"I can't fucking do it anymore!" Arin sobbed as he flung his arms into the air.

"I'll tell you what, Arin!" Jon barked seriously, no longer in his hysteric state of mind. Arin now listened closer to him, as his tone had truly startled him, "You can give up now, or you can you beat it up! Because I certainly can't do it without you, and I know that you can't do it without me!"

Arin attempted to stop his flowing tears and tried to calmly gather his thoughts.

"I appreciate it," Arin said thankfully before exploding, "But look at what we're dealing with, man!"

"Arin-" Jon was cut off.

"You gotta draw a line in the sand somewhere!" Arin carried on without thought.

"Arin, we gotta-"

"You gotta draw a fucking line ion the sand, dude!"

"Arin!"

"You gotta make a statement!" Arin continued his thought, ignoring Jon expertly, "You gotta look inside yourself and say; 'What am I willing to put up with today?' Not fucking this!"

Jon, quite frankly, had had enough of this.

The man promptly stood up in mid gunfire and cried what sounded like a war cry as he barreled himself through the warzone, clutching onto his cap as he did so.

Arin looked through the window in disbelief as he saw his partner in crime speed through the fire. It was a miracle that he was not hit by a single measly bullet.

Arin continued to gaze onward in horror as the man flung himself out of a nearby window, splintering the glass that made it up. The shards began to flicker with the silvery starlight that loomed outside.

Jon, on the other hand, was flecked with blooming red patches as he continued to fall in what felt like slow motion.

Wind whipped at the falling man, making his hat blow off of his head like a gentle summer breeze...

"I'm Super Man!" he giggled like a child playing pretend. His hat fluttered off of his head during his flight and landed on a sharp bit of the glass like it was being hung up there. The cap eventually was punctured so it was held safely there.

Jon closed his eyes when he tossed his shades aside much like Arin had done earlier on in their heist.

His grin never ceased.

"I believe I can fly!" he sang. Soon after he disappeared from view.

The mister in the black jacket stood on the spot, still numb, and the police rushed in through the door he had so foolishly left open. He looked at them blankly, knowing the fate of himself rested with them- resistance was already futile.

He was led away from his hiding space, his arms were wrenched behind his back and handcuffed for good measure.

But Arin didn't care.

His gaze rested on the hat that was caught on the shard of glass of which Jon had ascended.

Ending his own life...

The swearing obviously isn't regular for me. I choose not to cuss in my writing so its for everybody, but this was taken from audio.

Once again, the idea of the whole heist thing belongs to Rezuaq. I just wrote it down.

I really hope you didn't hate it, because it was sure as heck fun to write!