Disclaimer: I do not own Now You See Me.
A/N: This will be a short first chapter, but I expect the following ones to be much longer. Sort of an introduction.
One
Everything about torrential onslaughts screamed 'Macbeth'. Isn't that how they use suspense in the movies? Throw some water from the sky, put a girl on a dark road, add the clouds over the moon and a rattily air conditioner, and there you have it—a scene straight from Macbeth.
Okay, well, if Macbeth had happened somewhere in the twenty-first century and involved a slim brunette with rain-soaked hair. At least, that's what Aria Littlebrook thought as she gripped the steering wheel and edged the car through Queen's borough.
There were streetlamps at every corner, but rain flowed so hard from the sky that it blotted out any guiding light and only served to refract a gold and white glow. The small G6 crept through the water and darkness at a snail's pace, its driver hunched over and peering through squinted eyes just to make out the lines on the road.
So really, it was the rain's fault she hit him.
His tall frame darted out from nowhere; one moment, she was passing through an empty intersection, and the next, a dark shadow detached itself from the road and connected with a solid thud with her front bumper.
Aria slammed on the breaks, propelling herself and all the loose clutter in her car forward. Her seatbelt caught across her chest and yanked her back in a whiplash motion. As everything settled, she slumped her shoulders, caught her breath, and listened.
Something moaned outside.
"Oh my God," she murmured, frenetically unclicking her seatbelt and searching out the door handle. She shoved the door open and scrambled out. Her headlights illuminated a dark figure collapsed on the road—a man, she saw upon closer inspection, clutching his abdomen and groaning.
"Oh my God." A wave of panic crashed into her so hard that she nearly lost her balance. Falling to her knees beside the man, she brushed her hand over his arm, trying to catch his attention.
Her hand came away with blood. It flowed right off her skin, washed away by the crying skies.
"You're bleeding." Aria pressed her hands to her face, trying to quell the bubble of hysteria inside. "Think, think. I need to call an ambulance—"she glanced towards the car. "Get your phone, Aria, just—"
The man suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist. "No—no ambulance," he croaked. "No."
Aria stared down in shock. She stuttered a great deal before making any words. "But you're bleeding. I did this to you."
He rolled onto his back. Dark hair was plastered to his forehead—Aria couldn't differentiate between sweat and water—and his equally dark eyes closed once more as he gasped in pain. "I'm fine. I just… need a minute."
"You need a doctor." Aria reached out and paused; her hand hovered over his, where he clutched his apparent wound, uncertain. "You're going to bleed out right here if we don't do something." She made to stand, but his grip on her wrist tightened.
His dark eyes peeled open to look at her. Aria was surprised to discover a look of pleading in them, as if she held his very life in her hands.
She suddenly realized that she very well could.
"Please," he croaked. "No ambulance. No hospital."
She looked very plainly at him and wondered aloud: "Why not?" When he gasped in pain once more, she shook herself—she was asking for an explanation while he bled out on the street?
Tugging her wrist out of reach, the man begrudgingly released her as she stood and crouched beside him. Her fingers wrapped around his bicep, and she asked, "Can you stand?—we have to get you in the car."
He eyed her with that look of pleading and something else. "Just go. You didn't do this to me. Just go and forget what you saw."
Aria stood her ground. "No." Her voice cracked, and she cringed at how weak she sounded. She tugged on his arm and cleared her throat. "Stand."
They locked eyes for several moments; Aria trying to be resolute, while the man seemed to weigh his options. At last, he grunted and got to his feet, with a little help from her. Tucking her arm around his waist, she half dragged, half walked him to the passenger door. Just two feet away, he lost his balance; their weight swayed together, and Aria found herself pinned to the car, while he rested his hands on either side of her to stay upright. He groaned in pain again—his right hand shot back to the wound on his stomach—and Aria flinched.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"Come on." She settled him in the seat and hurried around to return to hers.
It suddenly occurred to her that he was bleeding all over her leather seats; she turned to him in horror before perusing the back seat and finding the new dress she bought earlier that day. With a frown, she snatched it up and tossed it on his lap. "Can you try to keep it off the seats?"
She didn't miss the glare he threw at her.
"Right—uh, it's okay, just bleed—I mean—oh God, never mind."
Shifting the car in drive, she wiped the rain from her eyes and pressed on down the road. They sat in silence for several minutes; the only sound being the pitter-patter of rain on the roof and the rattle of the air conditioner.
Finally, the man asked, "What's your name?"
"Aria," she murmured, stealing a glance at him. He had balled the dress up and held it over his shirt, where the darkest of blacks seemed to blossom like a flower. His eyes were pinched tight, and he locked his jaw as if he was trying very hard to ignore the pain. Aria turned away by the time he glanced over at her.
"Jack."
Please leave a review and let me know if I should continue to post more.