A/N: I feel really bad for having to apologise again… I am set to finish this story and I will do it, it's just taking me more time than ever before, and I am sorry for it.

Thank you for still following this story! Feedback will be welcome.

I still don't own the characters…

Chapter 19

Danny felt like his throat was closed with a thick lump. It was hard to breathe and hard to watch his footing without looking down. No-no, don't look down. Don't look at the weight in your arms. And yet still, in his periphery vision. Danny could see Nicholas' eyes carefully watching his face in silence. Well, silence was not the right word – aside from Danny's own tiny sobs and gasps for air he was trying to keep under control, there was also Nicholas' pained wheezed breathing, sometimes coming out with low grunts. Navigating through darkened corridors, Danny tried to imagine that this was not happening. Well, something was happening, he couldn't deny that even in his imagination, but not this. He suddenly remembered how he had carried Nick once almost like this a few years before, and even though he had been scared more than ever before in his life, he was almost sure everything was going to be fine, somehow. Almost. Only there had been a giant knife sticking out of Nick's chest back then, but it wasn't a bad thing. Danny felt his limbs begin to tremble as he found himself wanting to laugh at that memory.

As they finally emerged outside, they were met with a gruesome sight. Blood was splattered everywhere, with dead bodies lying around like in a video game Danny's cousin's husband's sister's boy played all the time. Danny finally dared to look down at his friend, only to see that Nicholas' eyes were no longer following his, Danny's features, instead staring blankly straight ahead, as breathing was beginning to take too much of his energy. He was obviously in a great deal of pain, and every step Danny took made him wince increasingly harder.

Danny wanted to collapse right there. He could see a shadow getting near. Somehow he knew it was most certainly one of the agents. He didn't care much as long as it wasn't one of the enemy… one of those monsters who had done this to Nicholas.

"It's okay, I've called the ambulance," Danny finally looked up upon hearing a male voice. It took him a few seconds to remember the man's name – William Brandt. Bewildered, the sergeant looked around him.

"What are we gonna tell them?" he asked, his gaze jumping from one body to the other. What were they gonna tell the police? Wait, he was police. What should he do?...

"Don't worry, it's all under control," Brandt assured him.

Danny felt a shiver run down his spine. He thought things like these only happened in spy movies.

For a few seconds there was silence. Danny thought about laying Nicholas down, but the man looked so fragile that he was afraid of moving him even the slightest bit. The blond man's gaze finally wandered somewhere behind Danny, to the building they had just left, his arm raising the slightest bit to follow the same direction. Danny turned around, but there was no-one there. He looked down at his partner's face again, noting the worry in his eyes in spite of the pain.

"Everything is gonna be fine," he said soothingly. He didn't get to say anything else. An ambulance showed up nearby, filling the sergeant's soul with a feeling that could be called, if one would be too rich, relief.

Brandt looked down at the wounded man who looked unsettlingly like his friend. Being an agent, he was fairly accustomed to seeing people during and after being tortured; however, being accustomed didn't mean being okay with it. Gingerly, he moved to help the policeman put his injured partner onto a gurney. The plan was for him to go to the hospital with Danny and the injured inspector. Just in case. But in all honestly, he was a bit reluctant to follow that plan, knowing that the fight was not over yet, even though the odds seemed to be in their favour, just this one time. His phone vibrated, and he answered it immediately, seeing Ethan's name on the screen.

"Brandt," Ethan sounded agitated, just as he always was before doing something risky… or stupid, Brandt mentally added before shaking himself.

"You guys keeping things in order?" he asked instead, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Yeah, just as we agreed," Ethan took the briefing tone, the one the agents would take while explaining plans to each other, "you go with the ambulance and we-"

He never finished the sentence. The sound of gunfire erupted through silence like thunder on a summer day.

"What the hell is that?" Brandt exclaimed, not as much to the other agent as to himself.

"Go with the ambulance!" Ethan yelled before putting the phone down.

The former analyst swallowed hard and faced the two men near him.

The sudden noise had clearly agitated both of them. The inspector, despite being barely conscious, was making erratic movements, his breathing getting even more laboured and dangerously panicked than earlier. The sergeant desperately pleaded with him to calm down, telling him everything was going to be fine, but it was barely working.

Nicholas clearly had had much more suffering than he could handle, both physically and mentally. Danny could feel being grasped by freezing cold panic as well. Eventually he slid down onto the seat and let the doctors take over. He moved to take his friend's hand into his, but felt bile come up in his throat when he saw the gaping bullet holes going through each of Nicholas' palms. Not that he had forgotten about them. He was just lost. Unable to tell what was real and what was not.

It was fairly into the ride that he realised that one of those FBI agents (Brandt, right, that's what his name is) was sitting in a seat opposite from his.

"Shouldn't you have stayed?" the sergeant asked, his voice sounding weak and almost childlike.

"They can handle the situation," Brandt replied, with maybe just a tad too much conviction to be genuine. The police officer, however, didn't notice it in his state, much to William's relief. "Benji can take care of himself," well, that much is true… "Besides, Ethan and Jane are with him".

Swallowing, Danny looked up at the American, the gears in his head working in spite of the situation.

"He… Benjamin is not really your… asset, is 'e?" he asked, sounding more exasperated than anything. When there was no reply, he added in a small voice, "He's one of you, isn't he?"

Brandt gave no direct answer.

"Benji can handle this, he's been through worse," he replied firmly, wondering who that reassuring tone was intended for. Was it for the police officer who barely really cared about anything aside from his partner who was now struggling to stay alive, having long lost the struggle for consciousness, or for himself?...

Somewhere far in the back if his mind, Danny was mentally preparing himself for answering the questions about the mess that surrounded them. It was so far in the depths of his brain that he had to take a few seconds to register those thoughts amidst the bee-like buzz that was now filling his head. However, those questions never came. Nobody asked him about that on their way to the hospital and even after their arrival. Not a single question was ever asked on the matter. And, had he not been so focused on watching Nicholas breathe, he would wonder why…