"You look like real shit, kid."
He bore his teeth, in a smile, and so some white shone beneath all the reds and purples in his cheeks and lips and his temples.
That shaggy hair was growing well. His attempted crew cut hadn't quite worked, he was still playing with those locks of his hair that still stuck out awkwardly, but, considering his overall appearance, they didn't seem to be the most eye catching thing anyways.
He smiled, those teeth blaring, and he responded,
"Not looking too hot yourself, Sully."
No, he probably didn't. He couldn't have. He knew his shirt was at least torn, and that there was probably some bruise forming around his neck, a bloody nose probably still leaking a tiny bit more, maybe there was a nice cut that was what was bugging him around the side of his eyebrow.
The two of them stumbled through, heading towards the nearest hotel, something nicer than what they were used to. Just the closest place to spend the night, and leave quick as possible the following morning. They had just gotten their asses kicked. A brutal fight, with an army of men. They would've bailed sooner if the client wasn't so dangerous himself. One wrong step and everything went to shit.
They were okay at the moment, though. They pocketed a lot of cash, despite all the blood and the bruises. They got the gem too, but they were more excited about the cash that they had just been able to nab than they were for all the shit they'd have to go through to get paid by their client. He was a piece of work, they figured they would be content to just give him this sapphire and leave the place, before getting shot by him for no reason.
Sully sighed, looking around. He saw Nate, who walked over to a food place.
Rody's. It looked nice.
"Have enough for pancakes?" The kid had turned to around and smiled.
"You're not exhausted?" Sully asked.
He chuckled,
"Well, yeah. But I'm hungry. It's a dilemma." He smiled. He smiled that kind of beat-up smile, shadows of exhaustion pulling against his constant bright blue eyes, some blood at his lips, the corners, and his cheeks with their faded purple, it must have ached to move them to make that smile.
"Sure, kid. Whatever you say."
Inside, the orange light permeated the room. A small diner, but it was cozy.
A smiling older woman, about mid-thirties, high ponytail, in a collared black shirt to go with her black jeans came around, and she gestured them to a table. Before they were sat they washed their faces in the restroom, still looking a little beat up, but they were mostly presentable.
She did kindly ignore their beat-up faces, as she greeted them, but Sully noted the slight shock in her eyes for just a second.
It was 2 AM, only a few people were here, at least on a Wednesday. Not to say they've never seen it surprisingly packed.
When they were sat, they immediately had ordered a couple meals and two beverages.
"There might be a wait, only because we have just one cook at the moment."
Figured.
The two nodded. No one would probably find them here, and, other than getting out of the city, they weren't in the biggest rush. Still, they shouldn't relax fully, until they're out of the city, but the next train doesn't come until tomorrow morning anyways. It was a really nice place to relax after an ass-kicking. "Come and Get Your Love" blared through the speakers in the diner, it was small, and the frames of some 60s and 70s rock stars and little guitar decorations and comic posters hung on the cluttered walls. Sully had admired various decor.
Across the clean table, Sully noticed Nate had gotten ahold of a couple kids' menus.
"How old are you, again?"
Nate scoffed,
"You're jealous of my coloring skills, aren't you?"
Sully moved closer to the table, Nate's coloring was decent. Barely.
"Ah. Might want to stick to those black and white sketches."
The crayon made a clanking sound when Nate had dropped it.
He feigned offense... well, he probably feigned most of it.
"Here. I got one for you. This ends now. Competition. May the best man win."
Sully eyed the paper in front of him. An outlined bird stood, happily, with a couple of activities scattered around on the menu close to him. Also some choices for what to eat. Small bowls of macaroni, fruit sides, chicken legs or mini pancakes.
Cute.
"...Alright. Where do we start?"
"Crossword puzzles. Of course."
They scribbled along the sheet of paper.
Before he knew it, Nate had shouted.
"Done!"
"Let me see."
"Read it weep, old man."
He took it from the teen, found that Nate didn't even cross the words out as he circled them, like Sully had done.
Sully couldn't help but roll his eyes.
Nate grinned at him.
"Mazes. I have to beat you before you get too damn smug."
They began the mazes, scribbling, this one would be quick, as the maze was ridiculously easy. As Sully was finishing he listened to the kid spoke again,
"Finished! You…." he heard his voice trail off, and looked up to see why.
Sully looked at his face, somewhat mesmerized, a flash of fear struck him, expecting to see one of the men they'd had a run in with from before.
But when he looked behind himself, a man, a regular looking man, was being sat, by a regular waiter.
"Something wrong, kid?" Sully asked him.
Nate moved his gaze,
"No. No, I thought I saw someone I knew."
Sully turned around again to look. He did look familiar.
He came to Nate again.
"Okay, well… you finished the damn maze." He laughed, dryly.
Nate had, for the last few seconds, all of a sudden been staring at nothing, his hand scratching the other one to his left.
"Kid."
Nate looked up,
"Sorry. I just. He reminded of um.
Of Sam, you know?"
"Oh." Sam was still in jail. He was supposed to get out a little while ago, but like Sully had imagined, the sentence was recently made longer. Marrfield wasn't kind to folk, even for the small crimes, which exactly was what Sam had gotten into. A really small, petty theft crime. It was almost, kind of, the wrong place wrong time sort of thing. Rotten luck on his part, really. He's never been a shining example but, this was cruel chance.
But then, Sully figured that cruel chance had ran in the family, given Nate's track record anyway.
Sully considered the man once more, he mentioned,
"Doesn't look much like his style, though."
Nate had scoffed at that. The man had been dressed formally, appearing to be some kind of business man. Blue button up shirt, black slacks, a silver watch, gelled hair. Must have gotten here late for a business trip.
"I admit defeat, you're good at kids' mazes."
"Thank you, I gotta protect my name somehow."
"Your name was ruined when you ran away from a clown faster than you ran from a goddamn psycho chasing you with an AFK in his hands."
"OKay, I didn't run, I walked, a little bit fast."
"Basically ran, basically."
"This is from the man who threw what? A whole freaking toaster at a giant 6 foot whatever muscle dude?"
"It's called resourcefulness, kid."
"There was a knife right next to you!"
"Should I try to remind you whose ass needed saving?"
"Out of bullets, and I didn't have anything else on me, versus the guy with a foot and a half, and probably 60 pounds on me! And you decide to toss a whole entire toaster at him."
"Doesn't nearly compare to the way you were shaking when we passed the fair."
"I wasn't shaking."
"It looked like you were shaking."
"It was cold outside."
"In June?"
"I had a cold."
"No."
Nate smiled, as he leaned back in the booth.
"I don't-"
Bullets went off. A lamp was broken, glass scattered, all the pieces fell on the table and the floor and the booth and even went to a couple seated behind the formal, businessman they had been staring at.
"NOBODY MOVE!" They heard from behind the two of them.
Shit.
Behind them, a different-but also familiar-man held a hostage, a young woman, probably a college student. His arm was wrapped around her neck, his grip on her blond braid.
"Is that Brady?" Nate whispered to Sully.
"Was that his name?"
"I think…"
Where Brady is, the others aren't far behind… Sully thought.
The man pointed his gun at the young girl's head.
"Where the hell is Victor Sullivan!? I saw him come in here! Come out before people start dying!"
Before Nate could do anything, Sully stepped out, his gun in full aim.
"Let her go, Brady."
"Give me back my money. And drop the gun."
Sully reached in his pocket, he found a wad of cash and tossed it.
"There. Let her go."
"The gun."
Slowly, Sullivan had put the weapon on the ground.
Brady threw the girl down, and set his aim at Sully.
"Bye Victo-"
Brady fell with a loud thump on the carpet, a bullet in his leg, Nate standing behind him as he fell with his gun in hand.
Sullivan grabbed his own gun from the floor.
"More are coming!" Nate shouted into the crowd.
The only 6 or so guests were scattered, but it didn't matter, Brady's gang of five powerful men had already started pooling into the little restaurant, guns out and giving chase. Nate had ran away from one man coming towards him, but another appeared from behind, grabbed his shoulder and pulled, slamming the kid into the table's edge. Nate could only defend with a quick grab at a mug, chucking it forward, but it was useless, the large man was ready for him.
Ahead of Sully a burly man was running toward him, Sully ducking and running to the side, but not before another man could swing a fist into his cheek.
It was too small of a place to get a good shot, and not risk harming civilians.
But it didn't look like Brady's friends had actually cared. Bullets were being shot.
Sully was just able to throw away guns from a couple guys, the thinner ones, but three burly men remained, two shooting and throwing glasses, one beating on Nate, the kid was on the table, the man on top of him ruthlessly banging his fists into the teenager's face.
Sully was able to dodge a few bullets and pulled out his gun, no time to care for the civilians, and shot a clean cut to the man on top of Nate's head.
His limp body falling atop Nate.
Nate rolled out from under the dead body, he took cover and grabbed a bottle from another, smaller table, slamming it on a man to Sully's side.
People were hiding under tables, one or two had left, but the rest were just trying to stay safe and were hoping to keep from getting involved.
Someone's probably called the police by now. We need to lead these guys away or finish quick.
Sully thought about the last couple of guys left. One was getting slammed with different dishes to the head, and sensitive facial features from Nate, who had pushed the guy's gun away from him, and Sully was blocking fast and hard attacks from the second, landing awkward punches to his ears and the sides of his jaw.
He hopped up on a table, he grabbed a gun and then he had struggled to pull the trigger, but Sully's right wrist was gripped by the powerful man he was fighting, the beast's sweat falling onto him, as he all but growled with his baring teeth, his fiery eyes. He had twisted Sully, and turned him face down into the table. He slammed into Sully, his weight pushing fully onto his back, crushing him into the table, as he struggled to get loose, he could see how poorly Nate was holding up against the other.
The kid was throwing what he can, dodging punches, and he even got the guy on the ground once, on to his hands and knees, but he couldn't keep up, the man was too strong as he just plainly grabbed Nate by the ankles and pulled as hard as he could possibly pull and Nate completely collapsed, his head slamming onto the carpet. The man pounced on top of him, he first captured his arms, but then moved his grip to Nate's neck, he didn't waste any time before he began to squash into the kid's trachea.
Sully was still being pressed against the table, and he could barely move, kicking out and hoping to hit something. He did, but it barely caused a reaction, the man above him still pressed down, and Sully felt like he was searching for a gun, or a knife. The only weapon close to the two of them without forcing the man to leave his advantage of crushing Sully was a butter knife and some syrup.
Sully used the man's searching to his advantage, along with his free left arm, as he barely gripped the syrup and smacked the guy on top of him with it, throwing him off balance enough for Sully to push him off of the table.
Sully threw a plate from the other table, eyed a gun to his side, grabbed it, but was tackled.
On the ground, he pulled against the pistol, as the other man did, both of them struggling in a kind of tug-of-war.
Sully threw a fist into his throat, and the man dropped the gun on his nose, and then Sully grabbed it and moved and he shot at his opponent.
The man falling, Sully rushing to Nate.
The kid was on the floor, frantic hands struggling to move the last man's gifts from around his throat, clawing at his arms, but to no effect. The man above him didn't even seem to notice.
Beside them was the man Nate had noticed earlier, the businessman, ducking under a table, shaking, with a gun to his side, but obviously unwilling to touch it. The kid's eyes seemed to wander up to his face.
When Sully arrived to the situation, he wasted no time taking his aim on the man's head and then firing.
He fell, as Nate was heaving on the floor, turning over to face the ground.
Sully took hold of Nate's arm, to keep him steady, as he watched the kid cough harshly towards the carpet.
"Is he okay?" The meekest sound whispered, and Sully looked up.
"Yeah, he's fine…"
Sully checked to see Nate's face, how well he was holding up, but as he did, he saw the kid staring at the businessman, hiding under the table, he could barely choke out,
"I'm fine." Some spit and blood flew from his mouth and he glared at the man.
"Nate, we have to go."
Sully, confused, pulled the weak kid from the floor to properly get out of there as fast as they could. He began pulling him to the exit, but he swore it was like the kid was fighting him to keep from walking.
"Fuck you."
"Nate, what the hell?"
Sully pulled harder, to get him to keep walking, but they were both aching from the fight from earlier, and it hurt a bit. But Nate started to keep walking.
The man's eyes widened, his brows furrowed at being swore at.
"What?"
Then Nate stopped.
"Nate, we have to go, cops are coming. Stop it."
He turned, though.
"12 years and still a coward."
He walked out the diner, much more quickly after that, somewhat limping, and Sully followed after him,
Sully could hear the man respond though, as he walked out the door, he heard,
"Nate…?"
It took a few seconds, to find him sitting up on the roof of a gas station, far enough from the diner.
Nate didn't look up, but he knew he heard Sully at his back.
He took a breath, walked over to him, and sat beside him.
"...Not a swell guy, I suppose."
Nate rolled his eyes.
"...Nah." His voice dry, cold and rickety as he barely spoke to him.
Sully was respectful to him, he didn't dare glance at the kid. He didn't need to. The picture of his tired eyes, bruised eyes, swollen lips, he'd never seen him worse.
That face, from the diner, but with scared, hateful eyes, bleeding hands, so betrayed. He had watched. This scared, cowering man all dressed fine, slick gelled hair, beneath the table, his arms wrapped around himself.
Nate was on the ground, staring at him, the hands around his throat taking him, and then the usually lighthearted kid just, seemed to care too much about this guy.
"I.." He stopped.
"I….He said he'd be back, you know? He swore that he would come back for us…"
Sully set an arm on Nate's shoulder.
"I know, kid…
I know."