Steve instantly snapped back out of his half-conscious state when he felt the weight of Mike's body crash down on his injured leg.

With a new wave of agony rushing through his body, he had a hard time stifling another cry, as the world around him began to spiral.

Summoning the rest of his fading energy, Steve looked up to see what had happened, the blood freezing in his veins when he noticed a dark figure standing over Mike's still body.

If the raggedy fur coat and thick leather boots were any indication, their suspect had returned from San Francisco a lot faster than either detective had expected. Dropping the wooden club in his right hand, the man glanced over at him, a set of dark brown eyes hidden beneath a scarred face staring at him like a nuisance pest.

With the adrenalin giving his body a renewed boost, Steve reached for the .38 to his left, but never stood a chance to draw it when the man jumped on top of him, the force strong enough that it rolled him onto his side.

"You stupid…idiots.", the stranger cursed, his voice a lot less threatening than his appearance, "What are you? Mhm? Feds?"

Feeling the man's hot breaths on his neck and with his right arm trapped below his body, Steve was pinned in place and powerless, when the strong hand grabbed his jaw to force him to look up.

"You've got some nerve to come up here. You…you idiots think you know everything. Disrupting my peace like that."

Letting go of his face but keeping a knee on his shoulder to hold him down, Steve saw the man reach for something in the black satchel bag by his hip, as he grunted away in frustration.

He had hoped to use the opportunity to buck him off to the side and reach for his revolver again, but Steve barely managed to move his injured leg a few inches below the weight of Mike's still body, before wincing in agony.

Undeniably so, he was at the mercy of the strong knee pinning him in place.

Glancing up again, he noticed the stranger's thick gray ponytail beneath the worn-out leather hat, and the brown eyes that looked a lot less daunting from up close.

"Don't worry, Kid, you're going to move a whole lot less by the time I am done with you."

The scarily cryptic words were followed by a small bottle pressed against his lips, as the stranger tried to force a bitter-tasting liquid down his throat. Fighting the gag reflex, Steve pulled his head back, almost succeeding in the clear bottle falling to the ground, but the stranger steadied it in time before the contents could spill.

In return, the man leaned farther down and a strong arm was wrapped around his forehead, forcing his head back at an uncomfortable angle, before the bottle returned to his lips.

"Now, we can do this the easy way, or the very…uncomfortable and painful way. It's your call, kid, but you're going to drink this. You've robbed me of my dinner for the night, I'll be damned if I end up having to dig a hole to bury your dead body to hide it from the feds."

His words didn't make the least bit of sense and Steve fought against the arms holding him in place once again, feeling as though a snake was wrapped around his body, threatening to crush him to death.

He tried to take a breath, nearly choking on the bitter liquid that covered his tongue and made his eyes water. In response, the stranger lifted the bottle higher, forcing more of it down his throat. As a last act of defiance, Steve held the pungent liquid in his mouth, hoping to spit it out when the opportunity arose.

"You're starting to piss me off. Damnit, I said swallow! This is going to be too concentrated and go straight to your brain if you keep it in your mouth, you idiot. What's the matter with you?", the stranger hissed and pulled the bottle away, before covering his mouth and nose with a strong hand, preventing him from taking a breath and spitting out the many gulps he had been able to force into him.

They remained in their Mexican standoff for a little while, as Steve vigilantly held his breath, until the stranger placed a hand on his throat, making several attempts of running his fingers down his larynx to coax him to swallow.

"You are going to drink this if it's the last thing I do, Kid.", came the menacing threat from above, the stranger's dark brown eyes fiercely focused on his.

Eventually, after several painful repeats, the trick did the job, when the long nails digging into his throat forced him to swallow the bitter liquid. No sooner did Steve feel it hitting his stomach, when the world around him began to turn uncomfortably blurry, his arms and legs growing heavy and numb at once.

The stranger had noted the change and let go of his neck and face, then carefully raised his eyelids to check them against what little light was available.

Trying to focus on the face in front of him that was becoming more distorted by the second, Steve felt the adrenalin leave his body altogether, causing him to relax and succumb to the dullness enveloping his senses. It was then when he finally realized that this gray-haired man wasn't the same one they'd chased in the park the previous day.