Hey guys! Sorry about the long wait, had a little bit of writer's block that I finally managed to get over. This chapter actually ended up being pretty long so I hope that makes it worth it! I'm a little nervous about this chapter though so hope it all reads well!

*Puts finger to head* I'm sensing about two or three more chapters to this story.. and I'll hopefully be faster for the next update!

Okay, well here's hoping you guys like this one, and again, thank you all sooooo much for all the follows and favorites and reviews! It's so appreciated so thank you thank you thank you!

Here goes nothing!

~cosette141

"Shawn…"

Something was pulling at his arm. Hard. Shawn groaned as it moved him and ignited a fire in his abdomen.

"Shawn!" Another pull. "Wake up, Shawn!"

The voice sounded urgent, and familiar. Shawn cracked his eyes open. Light burned his vision and he shut them again, letting out another groan. He tried to move, but the fire raged into an inferno and he bit back a cry, eyes shooting back open.

A heavy sigh. "Thank god."

"Wh…" began Shawn, thoroughly disoriented. "Wh't happ'ned?" he rasped.

"You passed out."

Passed out?

"I did..?" started Shawn, laying his head back down.

Another sigh. A faster one. Impatient. "It's me, Aaron. We're hostages in a bank, remember? You got shot. You passed out."

Memories hit him like a freight train.

Walking into the bank to deposit the check. Crazy guy with gun. Gunshots. Hostages. Blood, lots of blood. Pain, lots of pain.

Shawn shot off the ground only for a world of pain to shove him back down. This time he did cry out. Stupid. He breathed hard, feeling a hand gripping his arm.

"Shawn? Shawn!"

"I remember," he panted out through heavy breaths.

"Shut up!" came an angry growl from a few feet away, in some direction Shawn couldn't see. Heston.

"Are you okay?" asked Aaron quietly, brows crinkled together with obvious concern.

Shawn just shut his eyes. Both he and Aaron knew he was far from okay. "Yeah. Shit. How long was I out?"

"You've been in and out for almost forty-five minutes," came Aaron's hollow reply. He gestured to Shawn's abdomen and Shawn carefully lifted his head an inch to see. His own plaid button down shirt had been taken off and was now tied tightly around his waist. From what he could remember, it looked like the bleeding had slowed a little. "I bandaged you up as well as I could but... " He swallowed hard. "Shawn, you don't have long. The cops said they were going to take two hours. You don't have another hour in you! You-"

"Hey, hey," said Shawn, shutting his eyes as the world spun and laying his head back down on the ground. "'S okay, we'll figure something out."

A sharp slap to his cheek convinced his eyes to open again. He glanced at Aaron in confusion. The doctor's concern had suddenly morphed into firm determination. "Stay awake, Shawn! At this rate, if you drift again…"

Shawn swallowed. Hard. He didn't need any help finishing that sentence.

Okay… keepin' the eyes open.

"Great," muttered Shawn. "What's the plan, doc?"

Aaron looked at him like he was crazy. "Plan? Plan?! I don't know! You're the cop!"

Shawn kneaded his eyebrows. "Oh. Right."

"Look," said Aaron heavily, rubbing his eyes. "You need medical assistance yesterday. Is there anything we can do to… I don't know, speed this thing up?"

Shawn lifted a weak finger to the air. "Just a reminder… 'speeding this up' means that Heston gets what he… what he wants, and th-then we get personalized bullets in us." He blinked his eyes to clear the haze, fighting the exhaustion.

"But if we don't speed things up," stressed Aaron, "you're going to bleed out! Isn't there a chance that if Heston gets what he wants, the cops can miraculously swoop in and take him down and save us?"

Shawn creased his face, thinking. "I mean, miraculously-"

"So they can, then." Shawn's brows sunk deeper, not exactly sure he'd said that, but Aaron went on anyway, "We just have to get them to do this deal now."

"But-"

"Regardless," said Aaron firmly, stopping Shawn's words instantly. "We don't have many other options, do we? If we do nothing, we die. If we do something, then without a miracle, we die."

Thinking was already fuzzy as it was. Shawn blinked slowly, saying, "I guess that sounds like… like a rock and a hard plate to me."

Aaron just looked at him. "Don't you mean 'a rock and a hard place'?"

"Nah." Shawn carefully shook his head. "Heard't both ways."

Aaron rubbed a hand over his face. "Shawn, we have to do something. We don't really have any other choice."

Shawn blinked heavily. "If you say so, doc."

"Well, we just have to contact the cops outside somehow. But I don't think we can make a phone call without being shot." Shawn lazily tracked Aaron as the young doctor shifted his gaze around the room. He could still hear Heston's footsteps as the gunman paced across the floor, occasionally muttering to himself as he did.

Shawn shut his eyes for a moment, willing his memory to sharpen. He retraced his steps of the day, stopping when he was entering the bank. He took a moment to freeze the picture in his mind of the outside of the bank. Glass front doors, two small windows on the front of the bank for what must be offices, and around the corner, a side door. He'd seen it when he drove up on his Norton. But the door was locked from the outside (what? No one else had tried it thinking it was the entrance?). But… it was most likely able to open from the inside.

Shawn opened his eyes, finding a worried Aaron staring down at him. The young doctor sighed audibly as he saw Shawn's eyes open. Feeling a bit sharper, and a bit worried at just how much he had been drifting ever since he woke, Shawn almost smiled. "All right. If I distract th-the crazy dude, you gotta high tail it down this hallway all the way to the end. There's a side door that will lead outside."

Aaron lifted a brow. "How did you know that?"

Shawn smirked weakly. "Told ya I was psychic, remember?" Before Aaron could reply, he continued hollowly, "You can leave through there and get to the cops. Tell 'em I'm dying and whatever. Make sure you're talking to t-the tall, lanky one with the salt and p-pepper hair. And then w-we'll hope your miraculous rescue happens and hooray, happy ending."

If anything, Aaron almost looked mad. "What are you talking about?" he hissed. "You want me to leave? I'm not leaving you here!"

"You have to!" Shawn hissed back, though his retort held hardly any power behind it. He dropped his head back to the ground but held Aaron's gaze.

"No! Do you have any idea what he'll do to you? He could shoot you again!" Aaron whispered angrily. "He could kill you!"

"He won't!" exclaimed Shawn in the same angry whisper. "If you take off r-running, he's only got one hostage left-me. He's not gonna kill me, doc."

Aaron bit his lip, obviously searching for another excuse. "But-but I'm not leaving you behind, Shawn!"

Shawn shut his eyes briefly then opened them, allowing true desperation to leak through. "Aaron, you have to. Look…" He winced as a throb of pain laced through his abdomen. He glanced at the blood, then back to Aaron. "We both know I'm gonna die." Silence followed Shawn's statement. They both stared at each other, the harsh truth hanging between them in the air. "But you don't have to. You can get out. M-miraculous rescue or not, we… we both know it's gonna be a long shot for me to make it." Shawn dropped his gaze. "Thank you for… trying. But you have to go."

Aaron stared at him for a long moment. Then he shook his head. "Shawn, I can't let you do that for me. Not after you risked your life to save all those hostages! To save me! What kind of a sorry 'thank you' would it be for me to leave you behind?!"

"The best one, doc!" exclaimed Shawn with waning strength. He laid his head back down, pain ebbing at his abdomen and sparking tears to his eyes. He bit back a moan and fisted his hand into the material of his jeans. He breathed hard, opening his eyes. "S-Saving people is wh-what I do." He sighed. "Well, 's what I try to do." Shawn took another breath, lifting his eyes back to Aaron's. "I d-did what I did to save them. And you, Aaron," he whispered. "Please don't let it be for… for nothing."

Shawn held the other man's gaze. Finally, Aaron slowly nodded. He bit his lip and nodded. "Fine. Okay. How are we going to do this?"

Silently thankful he managed to convince the man, Shawn shut his eyes, thinking. He opened one eye and looked at Aaron. "Where's he?"

"Five feet from my right," Aaron whispered back.

"Yo!" said Shawn loudly, then grimaced as his abdomen screamed in pain. He did his best to ignore it. "Hostage man, yoo hoo!" Shawn waved a hand. "Over here!"

"What?" came a sharp, angry reply.

As he heard Heston begin to approach, Shawn hissed to Aaron, "Be ready to run. Door at the end of the hallway. Minute he t-turns his back." Out of the corner of his eye, Shawn saw Aaron nod.

Heston stopped beside Shawn, and Shawn heard the cock of a gun. He looked up to see the barrel aimed at his chest. He gave the man a lazy smile. "Hey! Nice to s-see you again."

"You are gonna shut up," Heston growled, "or I'm gonna make you shut up."

"Wait, wait, wait," said Shawn quickly. His slow mind searched for something that would distract the man. He just hoped it would work. "I j-just wanted to help you out a little. I w-work for the… the police department sometimes. And they've got some… some nifty new little toys to h-help them track cars they lone to felons like yourself." Shawn hesitated, but when no bullet entered his body, he felt it safe to continue. "They p-put them on the f-front bumper," said Shawn unsteadily, trying to strengthen his voice. A little longer. Just keep it together a little longer and then you can sleep. Forever. Unsteadily, he continued, "They probably got the c-car out… out there," said Shawn, pointing toward the window. "If y-you see a little red thing under the… the bumper, you know they're tricking you. You can… can probably see it from there."

Shawn risked a look upward, knowing he wouldn't have had a chance to distract a criminal who knew what the hell they were doing with the crap he just made up. But this guy had obviously lost more than a few marbles. Muttering to himself, shooting hostages before even taking them, hell, the man's shirt was on backwards. This man was just nervous and crazed enough that this simple suggestion might be enough to take his focus.

"Bastards," Heston finally huffed out, lowering the gun and stalking a few steps toward the windows. He stayed clear away from the windows still, knowing enough to at least stay away from snipers, and he squinted out the window. "Which car is even… hey!" Heston stalked back to Shawn, gun held high, but Shawn only grinned as Heston's eyes widened.

Because Aaron was already gone.

Aaron ran.

He didn't look back. He heard Heston shouting something behind him, and he was suddenly terrified for Shawn. Heston was half-crazed with a gun. He'd already shot Shawn once; nothing was stopping him from doing it again. Aaron doubted the man even understood just how hurt Shawn was. It would be so easy for him to take things too far...

No, he told himself firmly. You're doing this for Shawn. He'll be okay.

Aaron saw the door at the end of the hallway. He could see an empty street from beyond the glass. He reached it and grabbed the door handle. Doing this for Shawn. Just like he did for everyone else.

He paused.

Shawn was shot, bleeding, dying. Just to save a room full of strangers. Aaron didn't know the guy from Adam, nowhere close. But there was something so genuine, so brave, so… selfless about him. If this was Shawn under stress and pressure, he could only imagine what kind of person, what kind of cop, he was on a normal day. And Shawn did what he did today for everyone else. Shawn had used precious seconds to try to help him. Shawn wouldn't have been caught and knocked out if he hadn't stopped for Aaron. Shawn had stayed, for someone he didn't even know.

Heaving out a sigh, Aaron released the door knob and took half a step back. His heart beat rapidly in his chest. "Forgive me, Shawn," he whispered, hating to break his promise to the younger man.

But there was no way in hell he was going to let Shawn die alone after what he'd done for him.

Someone needed to save him.

Feeling both terrified and slightly out of his mind, Aaron turned away from the door and scanned the hallway. Two open offices stood next to him and looking into the one closest to him, he breathed out in relief. There was a window.

Aaron let himself quickly into the office and shut and locked the door. Heston hadn't come after him yet, but that only served to scare him more. That meant he was still with Shawn.

The window on the wall across from him was high and small; definitely far too small to fit through. But it would be perfect for what he wanted to do.

Aaron grabbed a stapler from the desk and faced the window. He drew his arm back, and punched through it.

Lassiter let out a breath through his nose.

The car was here and the money just arrived. Too soon, he thought bitterly. He instructed the officers to keep them out of sight from Heston. He wasn't ready. None of them were. They hardly had a chance to set up a perimeter. Vick was somewhere, still on the phone with several airports in the area to brief them on a felon who might try to leave the city. But only half of their precautions were finished. And it's been an hour already.

"Do you think Shawn's okay?"

Lassiter looked to his left, where Juliet had suddenly appeared. Her forehead was creased with worry. Not that he'd ever admit it, but hearing the psychic's voice on the other side of the line during that phone call was a huge relief. The moment he had heard that Shawn was bleeding and unconscious, he'd assumed the worst. That Spencer had been shot somewhere dangerous and was already…

Lassiter shook himself. Since when did he care about Spencer?

"He'll be fine," said Lassiter. "You heard him. As long as he doesn't piss off Heston, which is unfortunately still very likely, he should be fine. I just don't want this bastard getting away."

"Tear gas?" asked Juliet, looking at him. "We've used tear gas and flash grenades before-"

"Not with such a trigger happy hostage taker," said Lassiter. That actually wasn't true; procedure would still allow them to go in with tear gas. But those were messy and an extremely high risk. If hostages were in close proximity of the hostage taker, there's nothing stopping them from shooting… Lassiter shook himself. It was simply too much of a risk. Not when he wasn't willing casualties. Not when it was Spencer.

Lassiter scoffed. This "caring" thing was getting ridiculous.

"They're working on putting a tracker on the car," said Lassiter, gesturing to where the car was parked about a block away. "But it takes time. We need time."

Juliet looked like she was about to reply when a shout from behind them cut her off.

"Detective Lassiter!"

Lassiter shut his eyes.

Great.

"Henry," said Lassiter, turning around to face the older man. Henry Spencer was angry. No, livid. The man's face was red and his truck was parked haphazardly amongst all the police cars. Henry had ripped the caution tape that held their perimeter and two officers were both next to him, desperately trying to drag him back.

"He's fine," muttered Lassiter to the two officers. Henry yanked his arms from their grips. He stared at the bank, switching his gaze from the building to Lassiter. "And Henry, you can be here but you need to stand behind the cauti-"

"Like hell I will!" roared Henry. "An hour? An hour?" he exclaimed. "You wait an hour to tell me that my son has been shot and is being held hostage? A fricken' hour?!"

"Henry, please-" began Juliet.

"You called him?" exclaimed Lassiter in a whisper. He rubbed a hand over his face.

"Of course I called him!" said Juliet angrily. "He's Shawn's father, Carlton! He has a right to be here!"

"Not if he's going to be making things worse!" growled Lassiter. He turned back to Henry. "And Shawn is fine. He said he was nicked by the bullet. He's going to be fine. We're planning to just do the deal with this guy and catch him when he takes off."

Henry opened and closed his mouth, like he was trying to say something, but only rubbed the back of his neck and looked all but lost. Lassiter felt a spark of guilt. Maybe he had been relieved when he heard Shawn was only grazed by the bullet, but hearing that Shawn had sustained any bullet injury had to be hard for Henry. This was the man's son, after all.

Lassiter swallowed, and put a hand on Henry's shoulder until the older man looked at him. "We'll get him home," he said quietly. "I promise."

Henry only stared back, then looked back at the building. He let out an unsteady sigh.

A high-pitched squeal sounded behind them, and they each turned to see a little blue car screeching to a stop next to Henry's truck. Gus launched himself out of the tiny vehicle, hurdling the stretch of caution tape in front of him and reaching them with panting breaths. He leaned over his knees, breathing hard.

"Gus-" began Juliet, but Gus held up a hand.

"I'm okay, I was at work…" He seemed to catch his breath, and he looked back up at the bank, fear written into his eyes. "Is Shawn out of there yet? Is he okay? What the hell-what happened?!"

Briefly, Juliet explained the situation to him.

"But Spencer will be fine," stressed Lassiter for what felt like the millionth time. "The bullet only grazed him. We spoke with him an hour ago, he was completely fine."

Gus rubbed a hand over his face, looking caught between words. Finally, he spluttered, "But… but what the hell was Shawn even doing here? I told him to deposit our Psych check today!"

Lassiter gave him a 'duh' expression. "Uh, Guster. This is a bank. He probably was."

Gus gave a wild gesture to the building. "But this isn't even our bank!"

Resisting the urge to slap himself in the face, Lassiter shook his head. "Look, both of you have to-"

Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering had them all whipping around.

Three S.W.A.T. guys were already running up to the window on the far end of the building, and Lassiter was right on their heels. Somewhere behind him he felt three sets of footsteps following him, but at this rate, he didn't care. Spencer got away?

"Move," snapped Lassiter, shoving one of the S.W.A.T. guys out of his way. He reached the window, gun drawn in front of him, but it wasn't Heston. And, to Lassiter's surprising dismay, it wasn't Spencer, either. It was someone else.

This man was younger than Lassiter himself, maybe in his early thirties. He had genuine look about him, with wide but determined eyes behind glasses. The other hostage? Lassiter lowered his gun. He immediately realized that the window was too small for the guy to fit through. No escape that way. "What's happening, who are you?" he demanded.

"Aaron Aldaman, Detective," said the guy-Aaron. "I'm one of the hostages in here. You know the other one right? Shawn?"

Lassiter's chest caught. "Spencer, yeah. What happened? Is he okay? You okay?"

"Sir," said one of the S.W.A.T. guys. "Window's too small to get him through."

"Thanks, tell me something I don't know," snapped Lassiter, turning back to Aaron.

"Shawn distracted him, but Heston's still with him," said Aaron quickly. "I managed to get away."

"Mr. Aldaman," said Juliet from Lassiter's side. "We can't get you out this way. But if you lock yourself inside we'll be able to get you once this is all over and you'll be safe-"

"My son," Henry suddenly cut in, pushing in front of Lassiter. For the first time, Lassiter did nothing but growl in annoyance. "Shawn. Is he okay? They said he was hit by a bullet."

Aaron's face visibly lost a bit of color, sending a sharp stab of fear into Lassiter's chest. "That's why I'm here. It wasn't a graze. He took the bullet to his abdomen."

Lassiter shut his eyes. Shit.

"He's bleeding out," continued Aaron. "He doesn't have long. I'm a doctor, I did my best but I have nothing in here to help him. You need to do the deal now, get him to a medic as soon as possible. He needs a hospital now."

"He-" Henry's breath caught. Lassiter looked at the older man. Tears had suddenly appeared in the man's eyes. "He- oh, my god." He turned away, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Shawn's…" Gus swallowed hard. "He's gonna be okay, right, doc?"

Aaron didn't reply right away. "You need to do the deal now."

Lassiter ran a hand through his hair. They weren't ready. They weren't ready. But they were apparently going to have to be.

"I'm going in there," said Henry in a low voice, and both Lassiter and Juliet grabbed him and yanked him back.

"No, you aren't!" said Lassiter. "You go in there, Shawn's in even more danger! We can give the guy a car, track him later. But we can't do that with a gun to Spencer's head or another bullet in him!"

Henry visibly flinched at those words.

"That's just it-" said Aaron quickly. "Heston said he was going to kill us the moment he got what he wanted."

Lassiter swore under his breath. What the hell now?

"Okay," said Lassiter, nodding. "We can work with that. We'll do everything we can to get you both out safe. But you have to stay in that room, you'll be safer. Actually-" A memory clicked in Lassiter's head. "There's a side door." Lassiter jabbed a thumb at one of the S.W.A.T. guys. "Can you bust that open with little to no sound-?"

"No," said Aaron firmly. "I've seen the door. I'm not leaving. Shawn needs pressure on that wound. I'm going back."

Lassiter looked at him like he was insane. "Are you-are you insane? He could kill you!"

"I don't care!" growled Aaron, and Lassiter was surprised to hear such a tone from the man. "He's bleeding out and from the look of it has minutes without help! And he-he is the only reason all those hostages are out there, safe and sound. Someone's gotta do it for him, too."

Lassiter felt his eyebrows quirk up. The determination and courage of a cop. Knowing there was honestly nothing he could do to stop the man, he ground his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to see him go back into harm's way. But he wasn't about to stand in the way if he was going to prolong Shawn's life.

"All right," said Lassiter. "We'll do the deal now." As Aaron started to turn, an idea sprang to Lassiter. "But, hold on. I'm going to get you something, just as a precaution." Lassiter whispered his idea to the S.W.A.T. guy beside him, who nodded and ran back to their truck.

Henry suddenly extended a hand through the broken window to Aaron. With a strong, grateful gaze, Henry said, "Thank you."

Aaron took it and shook it, giving the older man a grim smile. Just after that, the S.W.A.T. guy was back with Lassiter's request. Lassiter looked back at Aaron and nodded at him. "Precaution."

Aaron looked to the S.W.A.T. guy's hands and back to Lassiter. He nodded and reached for it. "Thank you, Detective."

"All right!" shouted Lassiter, startling a few of the officers around the perimeter. "Get his demands, now!" He turned and watched Aaron disappear from the window. He shut his eyes and breathed out a sigh, hoping against hope that he would see the man alive when this was all over.

Shawn felt an immense amount of pressure leave his chest as Aaron took off, on his way to freedom. Knowing that Aaron would escape, would be okay, was all that he wanted from this. He shut his eyes, breathing through the pain in his abdomen. Now, he could sleep. Finally, just let go of reality, release his tight grip on the edge of his strength and fade away…

Pain erupted in his torso, so strong that it whited out every other sense and all that it left was agony. Shawn's mouth was open in a silent scream, his eyes shooting back open to see that he'd been lifted off the ground and thrown against the desk so that he was now upright, leaning heavily against it. Heston was yelling at him, waving the gun in his face, but Shawn couldn't hear him over the ringing in his own ears. His vision swayed and blurred and he suddenly felt very, very sick. He willed the nausea away, only focusing on breathing, just breathing, and his shaking hands scrabbled on the ground, for something to grab, to hold, just to alleviate the fire raging in his abdomen.

A slap to his face brought his hearing back and Shawn panted, trying to right his vision. Heston was in front of him, the gun pressed to his temple. "Where'd he go? What did you tell him? What the hell did you do?!"

"I… I… I…" Words didn't come. Shawn's breath was too broken. Tears stung his eyes. "I don't know," he managed. Through his haphazardly puzzled vision, he could see Heston looking after where Aaron took off and back to Shawn, obviously wondering what to do. Shawn could practically see the wheels turning in the man's mind. Chase after the hostage that got away or hold onto the one he has.

He wasn't chasing after Aaron, and Shawn was grateful. Aaron would get away. He would be okay. Shawn actually felt himself smiling.

Another slap whipped his head to the side. He shook himself, trying to make sense of the situation that felt only half real. "You- you're gonna pay for this, you bastard!" growled Heston.

Yeah… Shawn thought distantly. I get it. I'd hate me, too.

With an angry growl, Heston slammed the gun into Shawn's head, making his vision flicker. He breathed hard, clinging painfully hard onto just staying awake.

Just staying alive.

He looked down at his hands, which found their way to cradling his abdomen. His hands and arms were bright red with blood. The sight forced his eyes closed again.

It was getting harder to keep them open.

Heston didn't release Shawn's shoulder, keeping him pinned to the desk. Shawn didn't really blame him. The man was finally realizing he sucked at keeping hostages.

Shawn didn't know how long they were there for, until footsteps suddenly sounded from the hallway. Blearily, Shawn lifted his head and opened his eyes. And suddenly…

Aaron walked into view.

Shawn's eyes widened. What… but… what is he doing here?! Shawn weakly glared at the doctor, hissing, "Wh-what the h-hell are… are you doing here, doc?!"

Aaron looked terrified. He was eyeing how Heston was restraining him and the blood coating him and the floor. Shawn was suddenly glad he was going to die. He wasn't sure the blood staining his skin would ever wash off.

"I-I'm not leaving you," said Aaron shakily. He raised his hands as Heston aimed the gun at him.

"Where the hell did you think you were goin'?" demanded Heston angrily.

"Nowhere!" exclaimed Aaron. "I… I just-"

"Enough!" Heston roared. He roughly released Shawn and stood. "I've had enough of this!"

As if by miracle, the bank landline rang. Without moving the gun from Aaron's chest, Heston looked over to the phone and then with a growl picked it up. "What?" He listened for a moment, then said, "Finally! All right, you're gonna do this exactly as I say you're gonna do it! You're gonna park that car at the side door of this place," said Heston, eyeing the hallway where Aaron came from. "The money's gonna be in the back seat. All your cops are gonna stay away! Completely outta sight! And then I'm gonna get in it, and I'm gonna drive away. You get your people when I'm gone. Is that clear?" He waited. "Good. Now yer gonna call me once it's there."

He slammed the phone down and the three of them waited. It wasn't another few, painfully long minutes of Shawn's harsh breathing and Aaron's concerned gaze until the phone rang again. Heston hit the speaker phone this time. "Speak!"

"It's where you wanted it," came Lassiter's voice. "We're all away from it. You can even look."

Heston looked over through the window, somewhere Shawn couldn't see. He looked down the hallway to where Shawn knew the door was. Seeming satisfied, Heston nodded to himself. He hung up the call and then looked down at Shawn.

"Y-You got what you… what you want," said Shawn hollowly. "You don't have t-to kill us."

Heston leaned down, but kept his gun trained on Aaron. "And I'm not gonna. I don't trust those cops. You say they got them trackers in their cars? I'm not riskin' that. So, I'm taking you with me. Having a hostage with me will keep them where they belong if they catch up ta me."

Shawn's eyes widened. "Wait, b-but-"

"No!" exclaimed Aaron, even as Heston slung his free arm around Shawn's torso. With surprising strength, he lifted Shawn to his own chest. Shawn cried out as it pulled at his abdomen, and pain blackened his vision for a terrifying second.

"Shawn!"

"Now, walk!" demanded Heston, and Shawn blearily saw that Heston was nudging Aaron with the gun to his back. Reluctantly, Aaron walked toward the door. Through the small window of the side door, they could easily see the empty area and the lone car sitting feet from the door. Once they reached the door, Aaron stopped and turned.

"What now?" asked Aaron.

"Now?" Heston asked, a smile in his voice. Shawn's heart tripled in speed. Not good. Not good at all. He raised the gun toward Aaron's chest. "You're suddenly irrelevant."

Fear skyrocketed in Shawn's veins. "No, no, no! Don't! Please, don't-" But Heston ignored him. He cocked the gun, and Aaron's eyes widened with terror.

"No!" screamed Shawn.

Aaron closed his eyes.

And Heston fired.

The bullet struck Aaron in the chest. The force of it knocked Aaron against the wall, a hole in his shirt, directly over his heart. He fell to the ground and laid still. He didn't get up.

Shawn gaped at him, tears burning his eyes, spilling over his cheeks. He couldn't speak. He couldn't tear his eyes away. Not even as Heston yanked the door open and dragged him outside. Not even as pain seized him, and his mouth was open in an unstoppable scream. Not even as he was shoved into the passenger seat of the car, the door shut behind him.

Tears fell freely over his face, grief and guilt and agony and failure burning him from the inside out. The car was started and peeled onto the street and away from the bank. But Shawn didn't care. He couldn't. It was too much. Too much.

I'm sorry, Aaron. Strength faded, and Shawn's eyes fell shut. His head fell to the window and his breathing hitched. Tears still hot on his skin, Shawn let out a last breath, succumbing to the creeping cold and numbness. Fear gripped him in that moment, the first moment the truth finally, finally became real. The truth that he spoke and thought but never truly let sink in until now.

The truth that he was about to die.

And there was no one left to save him.