Life Less Frightening Chapter 36: Life Less Frightening, a street fighter fanfic

*This story is formerly "Life's Many Comings". I've always wanted to change the title and now i have.*

Suffering from something we're not sure of
In a world there is no cure for
These lives we live test negative for happiness
Flat line, no pulse, but eyes open
Single file like soldiers on a mission
If there's no war outside our heads
Why are we losing?

I don't ask for much
Truth be told I'd settle
For a life less frightening, a life less frightening
I don't ask for much
Truth be told I'd settle
For a life less frightening, a life less frightening

Hang me out to dry I'm soaking
With the sense of knowing
What's gone wrong but doing nothing I still run
Time again I have found myself stuttering
Foundations pulled out from under me
This breath is wasted on them all
Will someone answer me

Is there a God tonight?
Up in the sky or is it empty just like me (just like me)
A place where we can hide out from the night
Where you are all I see (where you are all I need)
So blow a kiss goodbye, and close your eyes
Tell me what you see (tell me what you see)
A life that's set inside this dream of mine
Where you are all I see

Rise Against- "Life Less Frightening"

Their hands had to have been on Dorian before he was even awake. His world came into focus about midway through being pulled from the worn sofa that had been his choice to pass out on. Then the headache pounded to the front of his head and he moaned. The hands that were gripping his t-shirt, he now recognized belonged to Saggy. They shoved him back and into the chest of Juan, who was twice his size.

"W-what the hell?!" Dorian stuttered, voice groggy with drug induced sleep. "What's the fucking problem?"

"The problem is Diaz just got picked up by the 5-0." Saggy spat hatefully, "And you're the only new cholo around here."

"Woah." Dorian pleaded as reality began sinking in. He waved his hands in front of his chest, trying to make clear he had no idea what they were talking about. "I'm not a rat." Juan shoved him forward which placed him in a circle of five gangsters, all looking at him like they've been waiting their entire lives to beat his ass. It was Saggy, Gus and Juan he'd partied with last night. Now two older members had shown up, and their faces said they were ready for a fight.

"Way I see it," Gus, the young one, interjected, "it's kinda funny you show up with plenty of cash and willing to share."

"I was just looking for a warm welcome is all." Dorian defended. His heart was beating double time. He'd expected to maybe have to be jumped in, three minutes verses two guys, which he could handle. But five on one? His eyes darted about the room, trying to mentally prepare an escape route if he wasn't able to convince these guys he had nothing to do with the dealer getting caught. "Guys, look" Dorian asked, trying to remain calm, trying to show where his loyalties were. "I don't know what the fuck happened to Diaz. I'll help you find whoever is responsible and I'll kill him myself."

"Well we think we're looking at him." Saggy accused.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Dorian cursed silently. It was getting out of control quickly. The air in the room told him they were too ready to fight to listen to reason. He didn't know if the circle was actually tightening around him or if he was just getting more afraid. The effect was the same. He positioned himself to defend, praying it wouldn't be the bell sounding the fight to the group surrounding him. He pleaded, now not caring to look tough.

"Please. This wasn't me…"

Dorian was shoved forward by Gus into Saggy's waiting fist. The force of the blow to his jaw propelled him back in the direction he was just shoved from. Gus was waiting, trying to get a lock around Dorian's arms. Dorian's instincts finally kicked in as he ducked and skidded by Gus's hold, now safely positioned behind him. Dorian kicked his rear end, sending him crashing into Saggy. He had no time to celebrate getting his head into the fight as Juan's hulking form approached him. The two guys he didn't recognize from last night were at his sides, not entering the fray, but making sure Dorian stayed within Juan's reach. Dorian had no idea how to engage him and the punch to the jaw had only made the pounding in his head worse. He decided on maximum damage and slid into a sideways crouch, aiming his foot at Juan's kneecap. All he had managed was a kick to the shin before Juan descended, his larger form easily overtaking Dorian's. Dorian struggled to no avail. It only took Juan a few seconds to subdue him. Dorian arms were locked in the air in mock surrender, Juan's massive arms wrapped under his arm pits and behind his neck. This was not good.

"Please. Just let me—" the air was knocked out of Dorian's lungs as Gus's fist hit him low in the gut. Dorian gasped for air as Gus's fists pounded his abdomen again and again. Dorian's legs went out from under him, but he remained upright in Juan's tight hold.

"Stand up rata." Saggy commanded. Dorian scooted his feet back under him, bearing his own weight again. Saggy stepped forward, spitting at Dorian's feet. "You don't come back here."

Dorian saw stars as Saggy caught his jaw with a right hook, cheek with the left, and his eye with another right.

"I get a vote!" Dorian yelled, blood dripping from his lips. His new bravado was a mark of his desperation, not bravery. "I have my ink. My neighborhood's legit. I get a vote. Call your leader."

"I'm right here." A voice boomed from behind the crowd that loomed over Dorian's weakened form. The youths parted to reveal the man who'd spoken. It was Guillermo. He strode towards Dorian in a businesslike manner, delivering a strong back hand to his face before he continued. "Rats don't get votes. Didn't your father teach you that?"

By the time Cammy had wrestled herself out of her seatbelt, Cranky was around the car, opening her door. Her cramps had only increased in intensity over the past hour. They'd pulled into the very first exit that had a hospital listed. Even if they'd stopped at another exit for a phone and an ambulance, they'd have arrived sooner this way. Cammy rushed alongside Cranky towards the ER entrance. She dared a glance back and saw the car seat was covered in blood.

"This isn't happening." Cammy whispered, too frightened to raise her volume, as if she were to speak more audibly, God would make it true.

"We're getting you help, Cammy" Cranky assured her as he rushed alongside her, through the ER doors to the small hospital. As opposed to the busy Los Angeles hospital they'd more recently been at, this one was deserted. The sliding double doors led to a small waiting room and a receptionist in a glass office. Her initially disinterested eyes widened at the sight of them bursting through the door. No mistaking that this was an emergency. Flanked in teddy bear scrubs, the receptionist rounded her desk and yelled.

"Get a gurney!"

She motioned for them to follow her. Once they got around the chairs, Cammy could see down the hall. Thankfully, there were men and women in blue scrubs running in their direction. A man that led the pack asked questions as he guided he to get on the gurney.

"What have we got?"

"She's pregnant and bleeding" Cranky shared.

"My cramping is really bad" Cammy stated fearfully. The gurney felt a bit much, but she wasn't going to argue. The next few moments were a buzz of rushing down the hall to a private cubby and being hooked to machines. Being a part of a calculated rush like this was not foreign to Cammy. It was however foreign to be at the center of it all. The doctor/nursing team worked in perfect unison with one another. It wasn't about pride or what was whose job. They just worked efficiently, which in this case, meant whatever was most quick. Who she'd assumed to be the doctor spoke.

"Portable ultrasound"

Like magic it was in his hands, quickly fetched at his simple request. He eyeballed Cammy in a wordless command and she lifted her shirt, exposing her belly.

"What's your name?"

"C-Cammy"

"I'm Dr. Russell, Cammy." He replied softly as he met her eyes. "We're just going to check things out and see how the baby's doing. How far along are you?"

Cammy couldn't figure out if he was being calm because everything was going to be okay or if he just needed her talking so he could gage her reaction if the news was bad. Still, she muttered nervously.

"Like 18 weeks. I-I had a miscarriage before"

"That doesn't mean that's the problem." He reassured her. "Just try not to move, I'm looking for a heartbeat."

Cammy did as she was told, gripping Cranky's hand for stability. This was all so strange. Usually she was the one giving commands, telling others it's going to be fine, that's she's got this under control. Ever since she found out she was pregnant, she'd been unsure of everything. This changed who she was in so many ways. Some were instant and some had been gradual. Right now all she knew was she didn't want to go back, not if it meant...

As the doctor held the ultrasound wand to her belly Cammy looked by her side, to Cranky. His eyes tried to focus on the tiny monitor, but once he realized he didn't know what he was looking at, they darted to Cammy. They were both wordless, each knowing the prayer the other was silently screaming into the sky. The machine glided across her belly, making a scratchy radio signal noises before settling on the galloping of a heartbeat. Relief flooded her in a tidal wave. If she hadn't been lying down, she surely would have fallen. Cranky squeezed her hand tighter; eyes brimmed with tears, smile of relief reflecting her own. He bent to kiss her forehead but Dr. Russell halted him.

"Don't move!" He said quickly. "Heart rate is 149 but I've still got to look."

Cammy froze, cursing herself for her moment of relief. In that moment she'd forgotten that things never worked out for her and again cursed her thinking, but this time it was the dark thoughts.

"I'm afraid the placenta might be tearing away." The doctor stated matter-of-factly as Cammy's world changed forever. "You need immediate surgery if you're going to save the pregnancy"

She was afraid to hope, afraid of the letdown if things didn't work out. Maybe if she wanted it a little less or if she'd fought a little less hard, fate wouldn't see her happiness as a threat?

"We're not equipped here, we're not a trauma center," the doctor continued while she and Cranky stared in dumbfounded silence, "We're going to lifelight you out."

If she didn't seem like she wanted it, then she could've skidded in under the radar and have a life less frightening than this one; a life where the future wasn't a question mark.

"Cammy? Cammy?" Cranky questioned, but his voice sounded far away.

Cammy opened her mouth to reply but then one of the machines started beeping incessantly. She felt Cranky move beside her, but her reactions were slow. He bent to get eye to eye with her and that's when she realized her vision was blurry. No, they were just moving, rushing down the hall, Cranky and the doctor at either side of the gurney. She lifted her hand, trying to focus on the IV line that ran from it. Still blurry.

She blinked and the next thing she knew, she suddenly heard helicopter blades. To most the sound wouldn't be familiar, but over the years it'd become normal to Cammy. Typically, she was late, rushing to hop in. Wolfman would be there, arms crossed over his chest, knowing frown on his face. Luwanda, always understanding, would be waiting to pull the door closed behind her. McCoy and Ginzu had their places in the cockpit, usually arguing about anything but the mission.

Why in the hell was she thinking of Delta Red at a time like this? Maybe she was daydreaming about a situation where she felt in control rather than facing the reality of what was happening at the moment? Crammed in that tiny pod, medical equipment handing all around her, it was a hard reality not to face. The beeping hadn't stopped and now she was pretty sure she'd passed out before because they were airborne now. Cranky'd noticed her movement and rushed to her.

"Cammy." He said, relieved. "We're gonna be back to L.A. in no time, they know we're coming so everything is going to be okay."

No it wasn't. It never was going to be okay. Not for her. She didn't know why she'd ever deluded herself to think any differently. She looked up at Cranky's scared eyes and she was thankful. Thankful that they were the last things she saw before she passed out. And thankful that somehow, despite it all, he'd given her hope.

Dorian worked really hard to look tough as he stared up at the aging gangster from his position on his knees. Guillermo had been the one to spook Julian before and the effect on him was the same now, but he didn't want to show it. He had a bad feeling he was fucked either way, but he had to try.

"I've been saying the whole time. I'm no rat."

"I'm not worried about Diaz."

Dorian's eyes grew wide. He quickly added his situation up and judging by the behavior of the younger gangsters in the room, Guillermo wasn't just a senior member. He was the new leader or at least the temporary stand in. Guillermo squatted down, getting eye to eye with Dorian as he spoke in a cold tone

"I am worried about you however."

"I'm not here to cause problems"

"But you being here does that very thing"

Guillermo stood and motioned to the youths held his arms to let him go. Dorian stood. He felt better but was still surrounded. There was no way he was getting to the door unless he was allowed. He really wanted out, nothing felt right about this.

"You said Diaz wasn't a problem," Dorian rationalized out loud, praying he could talk his way out of this, "and it wasn't me anyway."

Basically ignoring him, Guillermo spoke to the group around him.

"He's not a rat" Guillermo explained. "He's an imposter."

Oh shit. This wasn't good. Rats got their asses beat. Imposters ended up in body bags. He didn't have a choice now. Dorian darted straight forward, shoving Guillermo hard as he passed. He could feel the weight of three of them behind him but forced his mind to focus on the two in front of him. Dorian's thin frame was nothing compared to the combined weight of the oldest of the gangsters. They descended on him together and his futile attempt to escape was over. He struggled against their hold.

"Get the fuck off of me!" He screamed, panic over riding his pride. They got him against the wall and he felt the cold mental of a gun press against his temple. He froze but his body was buzzing with adrenaline. They were going to kill him. He was going to die. Guillermo approached, straightening his suit jacket. Dorian calmed a tad, trying to be tough. Maybe he just had to prove himself? Or was it denial that he was fucked? Either way he tried.

"I'm no imposter." Dorian defended fruitlessly.

"You're whatever I said you are." Guillermo responded slapping Dorian lightly on the cheek.

"Fuck you!" Dorian screamed, anger trumping his sense of self preservation. "You're the fucking imposter! My grandfather was there in the beginning. This is my right!"

Guillermo stepped closer, ripping open Dorian's shirt and exposing his tattoo.

"So this ink," Guillermo questioned "is supposed to protect you from harm? It's supposed to be a signal not to fuck with you. This was the word of a man who is now dead, may he rest in peace."

"Then show your respects to his grandson you piece of shit!" Dorian demanded.

He leaned even closer, and whispered for only Dorian to hear.

"This isn't going to happen Doria. It's like I told your Dad, Francisco was in my way and you see how that turned out." Guillermo confessed secretly "Without him, you're just the bastard son of a bastard son. You have no place here."

And with those words Dorian realized. He was a threat to Guillermo. He remembered his grandfather's stern words of advice to him. Threats have to be handled immediately, Dorian. You can't let anyone take away your power. He was being handled, and he'd walked right into it with a smile on his fucking face. But as much as he hated himself for that fact, he didn't want to die.

"Please don't kill me." He begged. "I'll go. I won't cause problems for you. I swear!"

Guillermo took off his suit jacket and spoke as he rolled up his sleeves.

"I'm not going to kill you." He confessed. Saggy came to Guillermo's side, handing him a blowtorch. With two clicks the flame lit, hot blue light glowing brightly. Dorian's eyes widened as Guillermo continued. "I'm just going to burn you really, really bad."

"Let me go!" Dorian screeched, full on panicking. He pulled against the gang members hold with every ounce of strength in his body and it still wasn't enough. "Please. Please don't do this!" He begged, shaking his head 'no' frantically as he struggled. He pulled his feet forward, hoping to kick away his assailant but they were ready to pin his legs down too. "Oh god! Don't. Please." Dorian's breaths were hard and quick as he geared up for the pain. He couldn't waste his focus on words now because he could feel the heat of the blowtorches flame singe his eyebrows as it approached him. His chest rose and fell at a frantic pace, only matched by his pounding heart and throbbing temples. His eyes were fixated on the blue flame. He willed them to shut to no avail as the fire came to the skin of his chest. To his tattoo. He smelled it before he felt it. And then, oh God, he felt it. Seconds passed like hours and at some point he'd started screaming. It hadn't been his choice, just automatic. "AHHH! Stop! Please stop!" His back bucked in pain but strong hands held him firmly in place. Pass out, just fucking pass out he silently willed himself but he didn't pass out, the pain didn't stop, and neither did his screaming.

Cranky's first and to date only helicopter ride left some things to be desired. Between the noise, the turbulence and watching them hang a second bag full of blood for Cammy, he felt like he couldn't get out of the tiny metal box soon enough. For the ride, he'd calmed some, but kept his hand gripped tightly in Cammy's. He couldn't lose her. Not over this. Not over what was meant to keep her protected. The weight of the world was stifling and all Cranky could do was crease his eyebrows into a expression of worry and let things happen. It was so defeating. If it was possible that by rushing via helicopter to the LA hospital would save Cammy and the baby, that meant if they been home when this happened, she'd already be receiving that lifesaving surgery. Cranky cursed his actions in hindsight silently as he saw the Los Angeles skyline spread out before him. It would only be moments now. He prepared for the chaos with a deep breath before the helicopter touched down and he hopped out alongside the stretcher and medical team, who spoke quickly to the hospital team, never losing step, as they rushed into the building.

"Twenty eight year old female, 18 weeks along. She's hypertensive and unresponsive. She's on her second unit of blood. Contractions are seven minutes apart slowed from four minutes apart. We haven't been able to stop them completely. We suspect placental abruption. Fetal distress noted with decreasing heart rhythms."

The team had been mostly silent on the helicopter flight. Now upon hearing them quickly give their assessment of the situation, the cold facts, Cranky knew why. He'd started the ride scared to lose the baby and now he was afraid he was going to lose them both.

Cranky's breathing increased as he jogged alongside them keeping Cammy's hand locked in his tight grip. The stereotypical hospital corridor was a blur to him until they reached a large set of double doors. Oh no, they always meant...

"Sir," the nurse next to him cautioned, "you need to stay here. There a waiting room to your left. The doctor will come and update you."

In the exact moment he imagined having to leave Cammy's side, paranoia set in and all the ways Shadowlaw could still get to Cammy came over him in a rush. Rationally, he knew he was a helicopter ride ahead of Vega and that was the only good thing to come from this ordeal. He supposed his paranoia was denial. He didn't want to face that Cammy, their baby or both of them might not come back through those double doors.

"No." Cranky replied matter-of-factly, his iron grip holding strong.

"Sir, if you don't stay here she can't go in there and every second I stand here trying to pry you away is one more second she's not getting treatment. So I suggest you think really hard about what's most important." Cranky stood still, taking the words in. His memory flashed to the last time he'd held thisd much responsibility for another person. Back then he'd abandoned Kenny. He'd left him with someone who seemed to have enough money. It'd been Cranky's worst mistake to date. Then, he didn't have the ability to take care of Kenny so he let him go. This wasn't repeating that mistake. Could he have figured out a way to take care of both himself and Kenny? Yes. This situation was world's different. He knew the nurse was right. He squeezed Cammy's hand, before placing it on her belly and leaning over to whisper into her ear.

"Please be okay." He said. And then he let them go.

"...find Julian..."

Words passed in and out of Dorian's consciousness like echoes. He couldn't figure out which were real and which he was imagining.

"...tell him we have the boy if you need to..."

It was hard to breathe and he felt dizzy. He knew at some point he had stopped screaming and at some point Guillermo had stopped burning him. Dorian just wasn't quite sure which had come first.

"They have to pay for what they did to Francisco, to their own blood."

He was strangely not in any pain, but he felt groggy and weak and he remained slumped against the back wall of the shitty house even though no one was holding him down anymore. Dorian mumbled.

"It was you-you killed my grandfather-my Dad knows. He knows."

No one was around that he could see, but of course he couldn't see much of anything. His vision was fuzzy and he could swear he was going in and out of consciousness. More voices.

"...keep him here. I'll contact you."

"Yes sir."

Dorian eventually dared a glance down at his bare chest, not prepared for the sight that greeted him. Where his tattoo lay on his chest, black and white charred skin curled in a grotesque mosaic of flesh. Flakes of crispy burnt skin hung loosely from the large wound. It should hurt like hell, but somehow he just laid here and waited. They'd kept him alive, for what or for how long he didn't know. His breaths started coming faster, eyes darting around the room. There were only three of them now and from the open from door, he could see it was dusk. Dorian squinted, eventually making out Juan's large form with a cellphone pressed to his ear. Dorian stayed quite, listening to the conversation.

"...he's out of it Guillermo. Mumbling all kinds of crazy shit-like you killed Paco and his father can prove it-I know-just stick to the plan."

Dorian breathed easier when he realized if Juan was on the phone with Guillermo, which meant he wasn't here. It was a brief reprieve as the conversation continued.

"So where do I dump the bodies?"

The bodies? Dorian somehow willed himself to his hands and knees, silently crawling around the corner. His vision swirled for a moment but he pushed through. He wasn't going to die here. Even though it was hard to breathe, once in the kitchen he rose to standing. His body twitched, waiting to be caught. His lips trembled, he felt so cold but pushed on. He exited through the back door unnoticed. He gripped the top of the chain link fence that served as a boundary between two tiny inner city back yards. His toe caught on the top of his clumsy feat and he tumbled forward landing on his chest in the grass. There was the pain. He bit his lower lip to keep from screaming out. Coppery blood dripped into his mouth from the wound reopened by his own teeth but he remained silent. His head throbbed along with the wound in his chest but he rose again, brushing bits of dirt and grass from his body and haphazardly his wound. His casual caress felt like sandpaper and his results were mixed at best as he'd only managed to push the debris around in his wound. It wasn't until he started to jog away that Dorian realized that the rest of his body hurt too. The burn had taken front seat to him getting his ass beat, but now as he was making his clumsy escape, he felt his bones and muscles aching from abuse.

Dorian stumbled down alleyways, trying to keep to the early evening shadows and the side of the road where the streetlights had yet to switch on and cast the dirty street in amber light. He had no fucking idea if he was headed in the right direction. He had nothing but his sorry excuse for a life left and it was only a matter of time before he was found by the Latin Kings, by Guillermo. They were saying his grandfather was killed by him and Julian. It was a lie of desperation on Guillermo's part. Once this artificial word got out, nowhere would be safe for him. He'd realized in that hellhole of a house that he didn't want to die. As he rushed towards what he hoped was the way back to Air Force Base, a new realization struck him. He didn't want Julian to die either.

Kenny's legs were getting tired, but Julian had shown absolutely no signs of tiring from their search. He didn't know much about gangs, but between stories in the news and Julian's obvious worry, Kenny guessed this was really bad. Julian's eyebrows had been creased in silent worry since Kenny had come back into Wagner's apartment without Dorian in tow. He hadn't known that Dorian was in any danger aside from what the rest of them were in. If so he wouldn't have been so rough with Dorian. It had just been hard to feel sympathetic when he wasn't sure if he'd see Cranky or Cammy again.

They'd been at this for hours now and dark was approaching. Kenny walked alongside Julian down the inner city street trying to control the pace of his steps. He would have looked awkward except he was pretty sure Julian was doing the same thing. If Dorian was okay they should have found him by now. Every passing minute raised the probability of a bad scenario, yet neither of them had spoken a word of it all day. Kenny shook off the negative thoughts and focused on the task at hand. He'd told Julian that Dorian had made it pretty clear he'd be seeking out the Latin Kings, so their territories were where they'd been searching. But the streets had been strangely silent. As if the underworld knew that Julian and Kenny suspected that Dorian was among them and had purposefully made themselves scarce. He wasn't yet sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"I woulda been pissed too, you know?" Kenny offered Julian to break the silence.

"I know. I'm supposed to be the adult." Julian explained "I just wanted to know he was okay and the notebook was right there."

"If you want to know if he's okay then you ask him. It's pretty simple." Kenny offered.

"Noted." Julian replied shortly, nodding his head subtly forward. Julian indicated to a young man wearing baggy pants and an oversized Raiders jersey that approached up ahead. The plan was to pickpocket a cellphone and look for reference to Dorian. They'd pulled twelve phones so far and had found nothing more than an array of sexts, drug deals and baby mama drama. Nothing on Dorian. They had the routine down pact at this point. Kenny nodded.

"Just follow my lead." he whispered changing his demeanor. Julian knelt, tying his shoe, letting Kenny get ahead of him. It was part of the act. Kenny was the clumsy tourist, bowing his head and apologizing profusely in hurried Japanese. Julian played the translator who quickly explains the situation as they get the hell away before the mark figures out his phone is missing.

Kenny let himself look the victim, innocent, stupid. As they crossed paths, he rammed shoulders with the gangster.

"What the fuck, man?!" the angry youth exclaimed, bowing up instantly. Kenny had already pocketed the cell phone but had to execute the rest of the act or there'd be a fight.

"Sumimasen. (Excuse me.)" Kenny repeated frantically, speaking Japanese to sell it.

"What?!" the now confused mark exclaimed "Is that Chinese or something?"

Right ethnicity, wrong language. Kenny didn't know whether he should be offended or not. He didn't have much time to contemplate further because Julian approached

"I'm sorry, man!" Julian offered, pulling Kenny to his side and swapping the stolen phone with him at the same time. That way, even if the mark noticed his phone was missing, it wouldn't be on Kenny. There always needed to be a plan B. "Look. I'm supposed to be watching him. That's my bad, amigo."

They started walking away. It was important to make the exchange quick but natural. Another success. Hopefully the phone would offer more information this time. Lucky number thirteen. Wait, wasn't thirteen supposed to be unlucky? Kenny had no sooner thought the thought than he heard the voice rise from behind their retreating forms.

"Hey wait! You're Julian Marquez."

Kenny froze. He had not expected this. Julian was supposed to be unknown to this community. The gangster continued.

"You're him. You're him." He yelled. "Rico, Mendez, get over here!"

That's when Julian froze too. Kenny looked back to see the one in the jersey approaching from behind them at a hurried pace. He turned and saw what had made Julian freeze. Who he assumed to be Rico and Mendez were much larger than Jersey was and approached them from a block ahead like two giant football players rushing to make a tackle. They reeked of muscle. But Jersey seemed smart as indicated by him flipping out a switchblade as he got closer to Kenny, who was smart too as he'd sunk into his fighting stance. All air of the con was gone, replaced with the universal understanding among the five men that there was going to be a fight.

Kenny felt Julian move behind him, wordlessly falling into the fight. Kenny readied himself for the first quick jab. Predictable. He scooched back, squeezing his abs to avoid the blade. At the second jab, Kenny pulled himself to the side, cracking the thugs forearm with his elbow. Jersey pulled back, but didn't drop the knife. Kenny didn't think he was fast enough to hit him and avoid the knife. He had to disarm him somehow first. He was uncomfortable going on the offensive without a weapon, but he could hear the sounds of Julian fighting behind him and he wanted to be able to help. Kenny rushed Jersey, causing him to defend with the blade. He wasn't expecting it, so it was a pitiful attempt which allowed Kenny to take grip of his wrist, loosening Jersey's hold on the switchblade. He heard the clang of metal on pavement and breathed a sigh of relief. It was perhaps too long, and Jersey planted a left hook on Kenny's cheek, knocking him sideways. Kenny took mental note that the blade may not be totally out of play as he rose to standing, eyeballing the fallen weapon. He couldn't really say he would be able to fight with it, but he certainly didn't want Jersey to get it back.

The gangster seemed to have forgotten about the weapon and charged Kenny with a fist he avoided easily. Jersey followed up with two other strikes before Kenny found an opening. Kenny twisted to the side, bringing his leg up and down. The kick hit Jersey's shoulder and he crashed to the ground with a thud. Kenny followed with a stomp, which Jersey rolled away from. Once again they were face to face. Kenny advanced, aiming a flurry of punches at his face. The last three hit their mark; cheek, chin and eye respectively. He has to end this quick. Kenny ducked low in front of the dazed thug and after pulling his fist down, brought it to Jersey's chin with all the strength of body behind the feat. On contact Kenny knew he'd knocked the guy out cold.

He didn't savor the victory, instead turning to assist Julian. He did not expect what he saw. About half a block from him, one of the hulking gangster's lay beaten on the ground. The other was a block away and had Julian pinned on the asphalt. Kenny started running. He didn't know how well he'd fare. The guy was slightly bigger than Julian, which put him at nearly twice Kenny's size. But he couldn't not help Julian. When Kenny was a few feet from the fighting men he stopped, eyes wide. Behind the two's struggling forms, came a third form brandishing a two by four. The newcomer raised the wooden board high above his head, bringing it down hard on the back of Julian's opponents head. The sound was loud, crisp, and less hollow than movie sound effects. The gangster's body crumpled in an instant.

"Dorian!" Julian cried.

Kenny closed the remaining gap between himself, Julian and Dorian, thankful the fight and their search was over. But before he could reach them, the board fell from Dorian's grasp, the clatter echoing through the empty street. It was then that Kenny really saw Dorian. He was bloody and beaten, skin pale and clammy looking. He sported dark brown circles under his eyes and pieces of grass and other debris in his tangled, sweaty hair. Kenny reached Dorian's side just in time to grab his arm and keep him from falling completely to the ground. It was only then that the streetlight above fully illuminated Dorian's shirtless chest. Initially it looked like someone had ripped the tattoo off his chest, but being that was impossible, the next least impossible thing was that it was a burn.

"Jesus Christ, Dorian." Kenny exclaimed. "What the hell happened?!"

Dorian shook his head frantically, shaking off Kenny's hold and rising to standing. "We've got to get the hell out of here" Dorian warned, reaching for Julian, who was beside them now. Julian's eyes went wide as he looked at Dorian's shirtless body and took in the same information Kenny just had. How the hell was Dorian still standing? Kenny's question was answered as it wasn't ten seconds before Dorian started to collapse again. This time Julian caught him by the arms.

"Thanks for the save son." Julian said, "But we're getting you to the nearest hospital."

Dorian pulled from him, seemingly frustrated by Julian's lack of urgency.

"No!" Dorian yelled "It's a TOS, on us both! They said we killed Grandpa."

"They?" Julian questioned. "The ones who did this to you? It was the Latin Kings, right? Who were they?"

"We have to go, we have to go…" was Dorian's only reply before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body went limp.

"What's a TOS?" Kenny questioned, helping Julian bear Dorian's limp weight.

"Terminate on sight." Julian stated simply.

Cranky wasn't sure if it'd been several minutes or several hours. In his state of mind, it was like time had no meaning. He didn't know if it taking a long time for the staff to update him was a good or bad thing. The waiting room was small and full of non-descript items. Chairs, tables, magazines, and cheap paintings served as decoration. He was sealed in on two sides by light blue walls, the other two, clear glass. He sat with his head in his hands praying to God. He'd survived so much in his lifetime but he wasn't sure he could make it through if he lost Cammy and their baby. But here he was with the power to do nothing other than pray. He squeezed his eyes tight, trying to avoid his threatening tears, when he heard footsteps approaching. He raised his head, looking up at a younger female; maybe an intern. Her eyes were soft and green. Brown hair peaked out from a scrub cap while a surgical mask lay open around her neck. They always send the sweet looking ones for the dirty work.

"Mr. Crankurt?" She questioned.

He nodded, assuming the gesture would signal her to continue. He could hardly breathe, never the less speak.

"You have to make some decisions."

He answered with another nod.

"Cammy is bleeding out. Her placenta is tearing away and in order to save her we need to perform a partial hysterectomy."

"Then do it." Cranky stated simply.

"It's more complicated than that."

"You're the surgeon." Cranky continued, becoming frustrated. "Go save her. Don't waste time on me."

"The doctor can save her but he's got to end the pregnancy. It's only a matter of time before the placenta completely detaches and it happens anyway. But we're afraid Cammy doesn't have the time to wait."

Cranky felt sick to his stomach suddenly. Was this person, this stranger, really standing here telling him this? He had to be misunderstanding the situation.

"So you mean I have to..." Cranky asked with disbelief.

"I have the papers here." The intern stated softly, thankfully not making him be the one to say it out loud. "As Cammy's next of kin you need to sign to give us permission to abort the pregnancy. Then the doctor can begin work to save Cammy."

His eyes went out of focus. It seemed real but still…

"Wait? Can't they put the baby in one of those things? The big plastic incubators?!" Cranky begged, "I've seen it. We have to try!"

The intern put her hand on his shoulder while shaking her head.

"The baby, she's too young. She's not developed enough to breathe, even with our machines. I'm sorry."

She? Cranky damned himself for his own futile questioning, as if it would make anything easier. Now in one moment, with one word, everything was even more real than before. This was a person. His child. I'll do anything to save this baby Cranky. Anything. Cammy's words echoed through his mind. When she said that did she know he'd be faced with such a completely obvious and entirely impossible decision at once?

"Sir?" The intern pressed. Cranky wanted to be pissed, to rage, but he understood every second this person was out here with him was another second that Cammy was dying. Cranky straightened his body and took a breath.

"Where do I sign?" he whispered, barely audible. The intern pointed to a line marked with an X and held out a pen for him. Deft hands and muscle memory guided him through the simple task that took everything he had. The second he lifted the pen from the page, the intern pulled the clipboard to her chest, speaking softly and with respect.

"I'm sorry for your loss, but I promise you, we'll do everything we can to save Cammy."

Cranky nodded as his ears started ringing. He was alone again. His blood pumped as tears stung his eyes. What the fuck did he just do?! He would have lost them both if he didn't. But still. The room spun around him and suddenly felt so small. His heart felt torn in his chest. Broken. He'd never felt so alone. A deep sob escaped his throat before he thought about bringing attention to himself. He clasped his hand over his mouth, looking to the doorway. His eyes widened when he saw Kenny standing there watching him freak out. His almond eyes stared back, sharing in his surprise.

"Cranky?!" Kenny said "Why are you here? Where's Cammy? What's wrong? Oh God, what's wrong?"

Cranky reached out and grabbed Kenny's shoulders. Not sure he was real. He was solid and comfortable. He was family. Tears fell from Cranky's eyes lids in huge droplets as he confessed.

"Cammy. She's going to be fine but the baby- the baby isn't-" Cranky lost it. Full on sobbing. He fell to his knees and Kenny went down with him, pulling him into a hug. Cranky cried like a child, body shaking, lip trembling, wailing on the floor of the waiting room with his little brother. Kenny rubbed his back, urging him to sitting, kneeling in front of him. He met his eyes.

"You did everything you could, Cranky." Kenny soothed. "You did your best and you saved Cammy."

It didn't feel like it. It felt like he'd betrayed her.