Note: Sorry i havent posted in a while. i was on vacation so heres the next chapter of my story. ENJOY!

Death's Bullet

Part 5:

It was a standoff, well not really seeing that none were standing and Bryan was pinned under about six and a half feet of toned muscle. He would've struggled but already discarded the option as useless. Normally, when his head was weighed down by a fever, he could come up with a solution to get out of any mess and if he couldn't, well then he fought.

Right now his arms were pinned above his head and the man on him was squeezing his thighs so tight that Bryan could imagine the little itty bitty cells of blood being cut off from his legs.

Many times before had he been in a position like this. Men are competitive. When one of them refuses to fight they will beat that person up. He had refused to prove himself. Why should he? Thus, his already battered body had accumulated many abruising.

Dom just stared at the guy, he just stopped trying to get away or fight or struggle. He just kind of laid there like a limp rag doll. All of Dom's teammates would have at least put in a good fight.

"So what's your name?" this seemed like a prime time to figure out the information Mia had asked for.

"Bryan." Bryan didn't know why he was actually telling the guy his name. Most of the time he would say something like not at liberty to say. "And yours."

"None of your damned business." Dom didn't like this punk. He was trapped and yet he was questioning his authority by returning his questions back to him.

"Last name?" Dom wanted this to be over quick.

"Not telling, until you tell me your name." Bryan smirked.

"Just tell me your god damned last name." Dom always had a thin patience and this was wearing it thinner.

"Nope." Bryan really had nothing better to do than piss this guy off.

"Fine." The man growled, "Its Dominique or Dom for short."

"Ok." Bryan said in his fake cheery voice. "My last name is O'Connor." Or so they told him. He remembered her cold monotone voice telling him who he was. Bryan had never been sure if it was true or false.

"Where are you from?" well now this Bryan was talking so it should go faster, Dom thought.

"Don't know." Bryan sighed inwardly, how he wished he knew.

"whatever," Dom didn't really care where he was from," What's your profession?"

"You don't want to know." Bryan hated what he did but it was the only thing he remembered doing. Every time he took another person's life, his self hate grew.

"What are you a hooker or something?" Dom asked in a half-puzzled, half-disgusted tone.

"No I'm not." In a way Bryan wished he was, and then he would be selling his body not his soul. "I'm an assassin."

"Don't give me that bullshit." Dom was angry that some one would blatantly lie to him.

"Check the police database and you'll see I have no record, and then you can check records, and phonebooks, ect." Bryan knew he had won. He winced slightly as Dom's gripe tightened subconsciously out of anger on his wrists.

"Hey man," Dom heard Bryan say, "You're cutting of blood to my wrists."

Dom eased up a little. "When I let you up, you don't run got it?"

"Fine." Its not like he had any where else to go, plus this guy was fun to tease. Dom slowly got off, by first letting go of his wrists and then fully standing up. Bryan stayed on the ground but drew himself up into a sitting position with his back leaning against the wall. The evil mirror was casting its glow, and if he got any higher then it would find him.

"You can stand up if you like." Dom pointed out.

"Nah, I'm good." One thing Bryan learned was never show fear of anything to anyone. People could appear nice on the outside or to one person, but when their with another person they could be totally different. Every person has and will backstab once or more in their life. No one is truly kind. Well, that was at least from his experience.

Bryan leaned back against the wall. A sudden wave of nausea and dizziness making him close his eyes to block out the swirling furniture and explosions of bright colors. His body was aching from when he tripped over the table. In his fit of adrenaline he didn't notice the pain but now it hit him full force.

Dom looked at Bryan. He didn't seem to be fraying as well. Bryan coughed.

"Come on." Dom said reaching out his hand but secretly hating himself for showing compassion.

"Uh, I don't think I can stand up right now." Bryan pointed to his leg. It was killing him. The dull, throbbing, aching as if his heart was beating in the wound.

Dom tried not to groan. His hand massaged his head where a headache or a migraine was assaulting his already tired brain. Drag racing took a lot out of him and when his sister woke him up in the wee hours of the morn' didn't help.

This time when Dom tried to scoop Bryan up, he didn't struggle, didn't have the strength left to.

"Well this is kinda nice." Bryan said sarcastically, while leaning his head on Dom's broad shoulder. Normally he wound not have done this but his head hurt too much.

"Whatever." Dom grumbled. This was not cool. If any of his team mates saw him carrying a man to bed, they wouldn't let him live it down. Finally reaching the desired bedroom, he opened the oak door and dropped Bryan on the pink sheets. It was funny how this Bryan looked right at home lying in pink sheets.

Bryan waited until Dom had left the room to burrow under the sheets and finally catch some z's.