14: …is a friend indeed

Claire might have silenced the phone, but she hadn't decline the call. In contrary – she accepted. Vera stared at her incredulously. Who the fuck was so important that she couldn't leave them hanging when fighting for their lives?

"Real bad timing," the nurse hissed to the phone and Vera mouthed 'understatement' to relieve some of her inner tension.

Claire listened to the person on the other end of the line, while Arsenal aimed his arrow. Vera could see a shadow of discontentment under the hood – he couldn't get a clear shot. Vera registered the man Colleen apparently had a history with was talking to her while their katanas kept clanking.

"Just make sure to clear the block, okay?" Claire pleaded, pausing again. Clear the block? Cops? Knight? "There's a lot of this stuff in here."

The swords fell silent for a moment and Vera heard Colleen's voice clearly now. "I don't need you anymore."

It was the exact moment Arsenal released the string of the bow – Vera glanced at the fighting pair and saw Colleen supporting herself onto the ground, providing the archer what he needed.

Vera failed to supress a gasp as the man deflected the arrow in one swift movement of his blade. What the actual-

Arsenal shot three more arrows in speed Vera had no idea a man could possess; the man deflected two more, but one of the three hit his shoulder. He fucking cut the arrow sticking from him off, not bothered by the sharp arrowhead in his flesh at all.

"You brought friends. Too bad you have such a poor taste in choosing your loyalties," he mocked her. When another arrow cut through his chest right under his left collarbone, he actually smiled a little patronizingly.

Vera's heart was beating its way out of her chest, her throat tight and dry. That man had two arrows in him and looked like he barely noticed. She was suddenly convinced that Colleen hadn't been exaggerating in the slightest when saying these people weren't truly alive. But what were they then? And more importantly, how they could be defeated?

Before she had time to give it more thought, a door to her left flied open, several men bursting in, some more appearing behind the guy who was now fighting Colleen.

"Doprdele," Vera hissed, shooting a panicked look in Arsenal's and Claire's— where the fuck was Claire? Vera noticed her steps from where she had expected her… holding a pipe wrench. Vera just gaped, her eyes going impossibly wide.

Arsenal enclosed the distance between him and Vera again, shoving his billy clubs to her hands. Vera automatically curled her fingers around them, not quite following, not quite wanting to.

"You know how to use these, right?" he grumbled

Vera looked at him incredulously, terrified as the men got closer to them. He didn't wait for her response, shooting two of them; one went down, the other one kept going.

"Not really," she squeaked. Matt had borrowed her his own twice for training; it hadn't gone very well.

"I'm sure you saw them in action a lot." He took down a guy who had gotten too close to Claire before the nurse could take a swing at him with her improvised weapon.

Vera gulped, gripping her sticks tighter. Okay, you can do this. You've seen him use it. Yeah, she also happened to know that one could not simply learn how to fight only by watching. But Arsenal disappeared from her side and she didn't have much choice.

She dodged the first blow a bald man threw at her, successfully taking a swing at his gut with the billy club. He hissed in pain, but moved out of the way of her next attack, throwing a sloppy punch aimed at her side himself. She jumped away in the last moment, putting some distance between them.

Vera scored a lucky hit to his face, blood sprouting from the man's nose – or was it his mouth? She didn't give a shit, landing a side-kick to his knee and knocking him unconscious with another swing of her weapon. Huh. She was starting to like these. It didn't hurt her knuckles when punching people.

A gunshot rang in the room, making Vera snap her head up but crouch instinctively. She glanced at wild curly black hair of Detective Knight with a sigh of relief, straightening up again. Well, it definitely had been her on the phone earlier; that woman was better than Vera had been giving her a credit for before.

A brutal blow came from her side, someone's arms wrapping around her waist and throwing them both her and the attacker on the ground. Vera gasped as the pain shot through her ribs, her billy clubs falling from her hands with a clank. She tried to kick off the guy, but he rolled over with ease so she only hit the air. He smirked.

Great. Huge, fast and cocky. At least he wasn't pinning her to the floor anymore.

They both jumped to their feet and Vera barely managed to avoid a blow aimed at her abdomen. She had no time to grab her weapon again; she wasn't even sure if the sticks were in her reach or whether they rolled away. She blocked a punch, his fist colliding with the little flesh of her forearm painfully, surely bruising her bones. She blocked a kick to her side right afterwards, but stumbled. It was all the man needed to score a precisely aimed blow to her cheek.

Her face throbbed and she spitted out blood unconsciously, shielding her face to prevent further damage. Christ, this hurt. He drew out a small knife, the blade shiny in the shadows of the room. The adrenalin pumped in her veins instead of blood. She went from defence to attack, screw the risks. Her opponent probably didn't see it coming, because she disarmed him easily, his knife joining her own weapon on the floor. She kicked out, her sole colliding with his abdomen, knocking the air out of him – yet, he managed to caught her feet on instinct before she could have retreat it. He twisted it, making Vera cry out in pain as she subconsciously went down to prevent the damage and avoid the pain. She hit the ground hard.

The man lunged at her with his knife, but before he had a chance to bury the blade in somewhere in her, she could hear and feel a swish of wind as a red arrow dug into his shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards. Vera wasted no time and used his distraction to cut out his core with a kick and spin, his body falling down near hers. Seeing her billy club nearby in the corner of her eye, she reached for it, her fingers curling around her weapon with satisfaction. The man tried to get back on his feet, but she sent him to the dreamland instead with a blow to his face.

Vera spitted another share of blood mixed with saliva, wasting a precious time to take a breath and wonder if Matt's and Oliver's cooperation looked similar; only with Matt looking more graceful when fighting, being on the ground less and generally being more badass. Also, there were probably more enemies downstairs; she hoped those men were rather similar to Vera's opponent and not Colleen's.

A cry of pain sounded from her right; she quickly focused on the man— with an arrow sticking out of his knee. Vera would make a sympathetic noise, because Jesus, but she didn't really have time to feel sorry. Instead, she paced to him, ending his suffering with her stick hitting his face. She didn't waste a moment to thank Arsenal for all of his assistance, even though he definitely deserved one; if for anything else, than for saving her from getting stabbed.

She huffed tiredly when she saw two more men heading her direction. How the hell was Matt doing this all the time? She was exhausted.

She checked up on the others; Claire was hitting someone with her pipe wrench to their face, Arsenal successfully taking down one man who was about to attack the nurse from behind. Detective Knight was nowhere to be seen – Vera found her few seconds later, curled against a pillar, probably unconscious. Fuck.

Vera crouched to avoid a hook one of the men threw at her, elbowing his crutch since she was down there. Why the hell hadn't she used this particular dirty move earlier? She delivered an uppercut, suddenly receiving a blow to her lower back. Her feet tangled together as she tried to regain her balance. Shit, she completely forgot about the other guy. She kicked out behind her, hoping she would hit him. She did, but having only one leg to balance herself for a second, being shoved meant hitting the ground again. She was really getting sick of this. She kicked one of her attacker's knee with all rage she got, the crack audible even as he screamed. Served him right.

More gunshots rang in her ears; Vera hoped it was Detective Knight regaining consciousness, but she had no time to check as a body fell next to her, her own victim whimpering and clutching his knee. She elbowed his face, quickly rolling over when peripherally seeing something heading her direction.

A katana landed few inches from her face, her heart stopping. Jesus fucking Christ.

Before she could fully realize how close she was to getting cut in half, the blade was in the air again. She deflected the next hit with her billy club, scared and wired like never before. She vaguely registered a woman crying out in agony when kicking out to put some distance between her and the man who had fucking almost cut her in half. He jumped back to avoid it.

Vera had no time to cheer or get herself back on her feet. An arm curled around her throat in a solid vice, pulling her close. She gasped helplessly, vainly fighting to free herself from the grip.

She couldn't breathe. The katana reflected the dim light in the room, rising again. She felt tears in her eyes as she tried to jerk from the rock-solid headlock, kicking around, her fingers curling around the forearm crushing her windpipe. The world was spinning, the time slowing down.

Ježišikriste. This is how I die. Suffocating and impaled on a katana, in the arms of a fucking ninja fanatic.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel the energy floating away from her muscles as she lacked oxygen, her attempts getting weaker and more laborious with each second, darkness enwrapping her, her ears ringing, but she mustn't stop, she couldn't-

The pressure around her neck loosened all of sudden, allowing her to inhale with ferocity. It hurt, it fucking hurt, but she did it again, forcing more air into her lungs, her head spinning as her body rolled onto side away from the man, curling up.

"Hey, hey, breathe, Vera," a disguised voice ordered and Vera swung after the hand appearing on her arm, her throat burning as she took another breath in. "Not an enemy. Breathe, come on. Open your eyes."

Vera obeyed for whatever reason her brain came up with and she finally realized it was the red archer speaking to her. He must have saved her. Fuck, that guy was a miracle worker. She was one step from loving him, seriously.

"Thanks," she rasped, immediately regretting that she tried to talk, the pain in her throat making more tears sprout from her eyes. She blinked them away, accepting the gloved hand that pulled her up effortlessly. The world swayed out of its place; Vera was glad he was close enough for her to use him as a support.

"That guy who came in first," Arsenal noted, sounding angry as they tried to walk, "I have no idea what to do with him. The arrows are barely-"

He let go of Vera's waist in favour of throwing something to his left – a cry followed as a man went down. Vera hadn't even noticed him being there.

"-tickling him. Explosive arrow seems like a bad idea given the C4. But it's like he's fucking immortal— you wouldn't happen to know if he was injected with Mirakuru?"

With what now? There was something that could be injected into someone and make them immortal?!

The idea struck Vera like a lightning. "Head," she rasped, a coughing fit following her attempt to speak again.

When Knight had interrogated her…. they had been talking about an impaled body – Stick's – and one more, possibly the body of the man Matt had been talking about, the one threatening their lives, decapitated. Vera felt a wave of nausea at the thought, but…

"Cut it off," she added, her palm on her throat as if it could ease the pain.

Vera could almost touch the archer's shock. But he ignored that her advice sounded like something from an extremely bad zombie movie and wordlessly took another throwing star, sending it flying in the man's direction. He dodged it, but the next one hit him good, blood immediately colouring the side of his neck.

It was enough of a distraction. Colleen's katana finished the job and the man's head was separated from his neck. Vera gaged, quickly looking away, but the image didn't disappear, the hair standing on the back of her neck in horror. She was sure she was gonna throw up and pass out at the same time. Possibly screaming in between.

For the first time, she registered a woman groaning and panting. She snapped her head in that direction, finding Claire kneeling at Detective Knight's side, pressing firmly against— Vera actually felt the darkness embrace her for a second.

The detective was… she was missing an arm. Someone had cut off her arm. Vera was sure she was never getting the picture out of her head either and if the woman would die-

"Oh shit," sounded next to her and Vera would agree, but she couldn't speak, watching the horror image in front of her.

"Yeah, I know, she's losing too much blood-" Claire said, voice on verge of desperation.

"That's not what she's talking about," the archer noted, disguised voice somewhat strangled.

Vera shot Colleen a look. The tiny woman had blood all over her white sweatshirt, crouching above a detonator. A detonator that had started a ten-minute countdown. She reciprocated Vera's look, helpless and pissed.

"We need to get out of here," Colleen hissed at them, immediately at Knight's side, helping her up together with Claire.

"We need to get everyone out of here," Vera corrected her instantly, her chest tightening again.

Her worst nightmare was slowly coming true. What if she had made it worse? What if she killed them all when involving Oliver and his friend? Was that what she was getting for trying to change what Terri had seen? Trying to change the future?

Arsenal touched his chest, speaking hurryingly. "Arrow. Arrow, can you hear me?"

He moved to the detective, supporting her weight instead of the tiny Asian woman, repeating his actions. Vera finally figured he must have had some sort of a communicator hidden there, activated when pressed like this.

"Arrow! Come on-"

"They are stories deep under ground, there's no way your communicator works," Colleen noted, leading them, kicking a man's face and ending his attempts to get up.

Vera suddenly felt worse than when being in the headlock, her windpipe crushed with much more force. "We need to let them know somehow."

"They're not stupid, they wouldn't stay longer than necessary, they don't need to hear us. For all we know, they might be on their way out now," Claire panted with effort, readjusting her grip on Detective Knight, simultaneously trying to keep her from bleeding out. "Hey, hey, Misty, stay with me."

The halls seemed to have no end. Their tempo was agonizingly slow. Vera's brain was wired, running on liquid fear. Please be on your way out, please, please, tell me you're on your way out-

Danny appeared behind a corner and Vera sniffled, looking up to the ceiling, thanking god.

"Colleen!" Danny addressed her, sounding somewhere between happy and horrified as he scanned them all. Luke and Jessica appeared behind his shoulder.

"Danny!"

Vera waited two seconds before she froze, tsunami of terror hitting her again.

"Where are the others?" she whispered, her knees getting weak. "What happened?" Danny asked at the same time.

"She's bleeding out-" Claire informed him, interrupted by Vera's voice demanding an answer much louder than before.

"Where are the others?!" she cried out, making Danny wince.

"Bakuto set off the detonator. This building's about to explode," Colleen explained and Vera instantly saw understanding on the three vigilantes' faces.

"We have to go back!" Danny yelled, horrified.

Thank you!

"Why?" Claire protested, her tone saying why on Earth would you want to come back? Vera would think the answer was obvious, but she didn't spare her a single glance.

"We can't leave them down there," Jessica agreed quickly, already spinning on her heels, Vera right behind her, grateful someone had some sense left in them.

And then an army of heavily armed cops stormed inside, aiming at their peculiar group. "Hold it right there!"

Vera couldn't hear the man. She saw fire behind her eyelids, an empty casket lowering to the ground, because there would be no body to bury. 'Hold it.' No fucking way in hell.

"I SAID HOLD IT!" the cop yelled, "WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?!"

"Hey!" Vera heard Arsenal's outraged voice behind her. Vera didn't turn to check, but she was pretty sure someone was pointing a riffle at her specifically and her red protector didn't like it.

"There are bombs in this building. We gotta go!" Colleen snapped.

Vera felt Jessica's fingers curl around her wrist, preventing further movement, probably trying to stop Vera from taking any more steps and getting shot as a result. And hell if that woman wasn't strong; Vera felt like her wrist was in a vice and she suspected Jessica was taking it easy on her.

"Hands in the air. Now!" the leader commanded, his only response being silence. Vera eyed him, impatient. With each fucking second standing here and playing cops and bandits, they were losing precious time. For some reason, Matt was still down there-

"I'm sorry," Luke approached the leader confidently, not afraid of the bullets he could receive for it. "I can't let this happen."

Vera had no idea what he that meant, but she didn't give a shit. They needed to MOVE.

"How long?" the leader asked, not lowering his gun.

"Less than two minutes to the detonation," Claire announced, voice thick. Jessica's grip on Vera's wrist grew more solid as Vera turned back to the hallway, ready to run. She would swear she could hear the PI whisper soundless sorry.

"Let's go," the leader ordered, his team lowering their weapons and making their way out hurriedly.

Vera tried to jerk from the vice around her wrist with no effect except causing the tendons in her arm cry. She shot Jessica a desperate pleading look.

"I can't let you go down there," the PI said, her voice apologizing and full of regrets. She couldn't be serious, could she?

Vera's heart skipped several beats when meeting the sad compassionate eyes. She was burning and freezing at the same time, weak and strong, knowing Jessica was right but at the same time refusing to accept the possibility she was. Two minutes were not enough, not even close, that much was obvious, but— but Vera didn't give a fuck. It was worth a try.

"No!" she protested immediately, her body involuntarily following the woman who tugged on her hand.

Vera clenched her muscles as much as she managed, only to hiss in pain as her arm remembered having its joint almost dislocated only hours ago. The PI wrapped an arm around Vera's waist, dragging her towards the others who were making their way out. Vera propped up her feet against the floor.

Two fucking minutes! "No!"

"For god's sake-!"

Without a warning, Vera found herself in the air, thrown over the PI's shoulder, gasping, carried away against her will. Their group broke into running as they left the building, Vera hitting Jessica's back furiously as if the woman could possibly mind her weak tiny fists.

Fucking PIs, fucking drunks, fucking vigilantes, fucking super-strength-

"LET GO!" Vera yelled, terrible tingling in her fingertips, a wave of something indefinable running through her as the distance between her and the building grew and grew.

No, no, no, let me go, there's still a little time-

Her feet suddenly hit the surface again as Jessica settled her on the ground with a huff. Vera gasped, relieved that the woman finally listened to her.

And then the explosion shook the ground under their feet.