A/N:

Tooortuuuuuuuuuuuure! Torture all our favorite characters! Yuuuus! Mwu-ah-ha-ha-ha-haaa!

I'm such cruel writer. Even added that cliffhanger last chapter. :(

Yes, we're only seven chapters in and somebody gets injured! Ah! Gutsy move, eh, Ashla? Well, it's to further move the story on. And tears. Lotsa tears.

I really wanted to see how an already ill tempered Wyatt would react to a really, REALLY bad situation. All his hot headedness and emotional instability amounted to a result I'm proud of. I also liked writing out the others, but what I did with Wyatt, Ashla likie.

Enjoy (thischapterofangstandmisery!)

~ Ashla.

Gage's eyes were wide in shock, caught in disbelief over what he just witnessed. It was impossible! How did he do it?

But... nobody's that fast!

Impossible. All science was against it.

Nobody!

Even logic deemed it an impossible task.

Nobody... Not even me.

There Silver stood. He was completely unaffected, not a scratch on him. He seemed so calm, so relaxed. It was only a split second after he had done the impossible too...

That silver driver just dodged a bullet.

He made it look so easy, such a carefree chore. Gage simply could not understand how on earth it was done. They were so close to each other, that bullet had traveled in milliseconds. Gage had trusted this gun as long as they were on this team, that bullet should have ran true... Yet, here he stood after successfully dodging a bullet.

"H-..." Gage barely managed the words, "... How?"

Silver only shrugged, turning his head to look at an equally mind blown Wyatt before turning back to Gage. Instead of answering his question though, he simply spoke, "My turn."

It happened so fast. Oh, it happened so fast. With such close proximity, with his lighting fast reflexes. An almost unnatural ability, shaded as a secret from his opponents, Silver aimed and shot with the flintlock pistol.

The impact caused Gage to fall back against the ground, motionless.

Tears instantly formed and fell from Wyatt's eyes, mouth wide as hurricane force emotions fell upon him. His gaze was focused on Gage's body for a moment before he turned back to the silver driver. Tears pouring, his face was twisted in rage like never before.

"You..." He growled.

Silver only looked at him for a moment, head tilted, as Wyatt fumed.

"YOU MONSTER!" Fists clenched, he screamed back at him. Eyes dilated in mourning and rage. Rage. Deep, unchecked, horrifying anger like the lava finally exploding from a volcano. It was all he had, alone with all common sense flying out the window.

He would be Silver's easiest target yet.

Silver quickly pointed Wyatt's own gun at him, firing the final bullet.

Back at the deserted streets...

Rhett just had this gut feeling. Was something wrong? He looked on ahead, through the cool, air conditioned car into the burning desert. No signs of Gage.

And he knew Gage, he already was taking too long. So obsessed with speed and breaking records, he should of come back here by now. Rhett turned to look at Brandon. Through his own closed windows, he appeared to be looking down at his tablet. Rhett smiled, rolling his eyes, Nerd...

Smirking, he reached up and suddenly turned on the comn, "Focus, Brandon."

Brandon let out a surprised gasp, then turned to give Rhett a disapproving death glare from the window, "Rhett..."

The redhead only smirked a larger smile.

Brandon rolled his eyes, sighing as he returned to reading whatever was on his tablet, "Please..."

Rhett could catch a tinge of unseen emotion in his usually bland voice. A frown crossed the car guru's voice, "You okay, buddy?"

Brandon looked back up to him again. The blue eyed boy's face was distorted by their windows, but his face was indeed troubled. A moment after that expression though, Brandon gave Rhett that geeky smile, "I'm good."

Rhett didn't buy it, but he remembered how he had called Brandon up for a reason, "Gage should of been here by now..."

Brandon looked ahead, staring out into the ocean of sand, "Agreed."

Another moment of silence passed, then Rhett heard Brandon open up his comn with Gage, "Gage, how's it going?"

...

Concern bleeding through his stern voice, Brandon tried again, "Gage, respond."

Nothing.

Rhett also tried calling him, "Gage, buddy, you there?"

No response.

...

Brandon finally shouted through the comn, "Gage, as the oldest I'm telling you to answer us!"

Still... Nothing.

Brandon growled, tossing his tablet aside and starting his car, "Rhett, stay here, guard in case Silver comes around. I'm going after him."

Rhett nodded, placing his hands on the wheel, "Okay, good luck."

Brandon wasted no time in pulling out, racing towards the direction that Gage and Wyatt were in.

The bullet was deflected harmlessly off Wyatt's armor. The thought crossed his discombobulated mind that that was the last bullet. Silver was out of missile projectiles, and Wyatt could not wait to feel his skull against his fists.

Silver would pay for what he had done.

A turbulent, one track mind worked loosely behind the raging emotions fueled by attachment and fear. He could not have lost Gage to this- this creature, could he? And if he had, his friend's death would be avenged.

Nobody messed with the people close to Wyatt. Nobody. And that was final.

Fist raised, a tear drenched Wyatt raced towards his oppressor, his enemy, and screamed. None the less, a much more level headed and even happy grey rider simply swerved aside. Hair flying in the wind, Wyatt slowly looked to him, eyes bloodshot and misty.

The silver rider dared, oh he so dared, to taunt him. "How is the sun shining on you now? Are you worth it now?"

Eyes dilated, vision both blurred and choppy, Wyatt's hoarse voice cracked in enraged aggression, "Shut up!"

More loose punches, too loose and uncontrolled, were thrown at him. Silver dodged every one, "You know what you are? Worthless."

"No!" Wyatt screamed, pressing on against the desert heat and desperately trying to land a punch.

As he dodged, Silver continued on, "Unneeded, taken for granted, a little boy with no future."

A hoarse cry was followed by a more aggressive, but sloppier, assault. It did not stop Silver one bit, "A nobody, a loner. Abandoned by many, accepted by few."

"No!" He screamed, "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!"

Silver simply pulled his foot in front of him, causing Wyatt to fall on his face. He bent down to him, pulling his hand to his visor, maybe even planning on pulling it up, but...

The sound of an engine roaring from the direction of town caused Silver to stand up again, "Kid, you are nothing worth value to anyone. Gold is overrated anyways." With that, he ran towards his car, swiftly pulling out a rivet gun and changing his tire.

With a blue sports car dead ahead, Wyatt finally had a sensible thought and ran over to Gage, scooping him up and jumping away from the road as Brandon roared through. Yet another gadget of his, a submachine gun attached to the side of the car, above the bumpers, came out and a swarm of bullets were fired against the scorching road ahead. Silver had finished changing the tire, but didn't even bother to clean up before jumping into the driver's seat and pulling away. As Circle Tracker sped out to the exit, another barrage of bullets were fired from Brandon's car. Once again missing though, the weapon was pulled back into the car as it slowed to a stop.

They had lost against the silver driver. Again... and maybe at a terrible price.

Wyatt could not remember the last time he wept so hard. His entire body vibrating, he barely managed to pull Gage's jacket zipper down. Pulling his underneath grey shirt up, he took a look at the bullet wound embedded in his skin. There was certainly blood trickling from the wound, but even as the nervous wreck Wyatt was, he noticed how Gage's wound was not anywhere vital. Somehow, that silver driver didn't hit Gage in a critical spot. Furthermore, the steady rising and falling of his chest confirmed the best, that Gage was alive.

A smile crossed his face, he was becoming delirious in relief. Gage was alive! It was going to be okay.

Brandon ran up to them with a med kit, ocean blue eyes wide in worry, "Gage!"

Wyatt would have replied him, but already was too weakened by everything to respond to anything around him anymore.

Yet Brandon was shocked for a moment.

The blood.

Red, dark, pure blood. It trickled down his side, it had stained his grey undershirt. Blood. Red blood. It was rare to see, and it was coming from such a wound... Nausea built up, bile rising up Brandon's throat, threatening to spew out. Blood. Brandon was, little known, terrified of seeing it. Yet, here it was. Blood. Gage was bleeding, and he was injured and unconscious. It was most likely shock and the pain that knocked him out, and his face was surprisingly peaceful. Yet, Brandon could not get past the blood...

Luckily for everyone though, Brandon was not the team leader, and his words weren't always law.

"G-G-... Gage?"

Brandon's haunted eyes turned to see Rhett just stepping out of his hot rod. His innocent eyes were ever so disturbed by the image before him, hazel pupils wide. "Gage..."

Their bond. Gage and Rhett's bond. An extremely close friendship, forged since the times of tater tot toddlers ensured years of an unbreakable closeness. Rhett's horrified expression was all it took for Brandon to snap to his senses. He rolled his sleeves up and yanked his gloves off. With the accuracy and speed of a computer system, he properly removed the black bullet, cleaned the wound, and wrapped it in bandages - despite wanting to scream and throw up through the whole thing. That overprotective, older brother instinct kept pushing Brandon onward, he could not fail his loved ones here. As much as he was skin and bones, adrenaline allowed Brandon to actually pick Gage up, keeping his head above his heart. Knowing that Wyatt was far too out of it, he turned to Rhett, who like the stunt man was reduced to tears.

Out of the two of them through, Rhett was his best bet, "Rhett," Brandon addressed him, "Please get to the passenger side of your car, pull the seat down."

His own adrenaline rush was almost physically visible. Unwilling to lose his best friend now, Rhett ran towards his vehicle and did everything Brandon had instructed, then helped Brandon put Gage in the hot rod without causing further blood lose. Brandon did not take a moment to rest, turning to Rhett, "Race, Rhett, race like never before. You know where the hospital is."

Rhett didn't even respond, he just ran to his side of the vehicle and started it. Brandon took the passenger door, ready to close it, and quickly told him the rest, "We'll meet you there."

Rhett's eyes were flooded with tears, but his pale face held an iron determination. Knowing he could trust Rhett with their leader and friend's life, he slammed the door.

And Rhett roared away.

Finally taking respite, Brandon pulled his sleeves down again and walked over to a hunkered Wyatt.

He looked awful.

His left cheek had a brown bruise, his hair was messy and in all directions. Dried blood was crusted from his nose to the bottom of his neck, the still running stream of tears making it so much worse. This was an ordeal they had just gone through, and Wyatt was easily affected the most. Still though, the blood, both Gage's and Wyatt's, splotched across the yellow sand was enough to finally cause Brandon to turn and bend over, emptying his stomach's contents onto the ground. Eyes shut, tears finally leaking from his azure eyes, Brandon took his time allowing his initial shock to pass. Yes, he and Wyatt were going to meet Rhett at the hospital, but they both needed their time.

After dropping onto the ground, the burning sun threatening to cause dehydration even more, Brandon looked towards Wyatt, who had finally stopped crying, but was still zoned out. Childhood memories flickered across Brandon's mind. Years ago, when they were only eight, and Wyatt saved his life. Brandon sighed, that old song coming across his mind.

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine, you make me happy

When skies are grey.

A sad smile crossed his face, he finally got up and walked over to Wyatt. Unclipping his armor, he spoke quite clearly to him, "Let's see how bad you got it this time..."

Unzipping his jacket, Brandon instantly recoiled at the various bruises on his arms and around his stomach. Wincing, he also noticed the bruising on his neck. Wyatt had just taken a whole lot of punishment and managed to stay conscious.

But of course, he was always strong like that.

Brandon zipped up his suit again, "You'll be okay, just take it easy." Knowing of Wyatt's stubbornness only too well, he shook his finger as he added, "Tylenol is your friend."

Wyatt finally managed to look at Brandon, finally seeming to come back to the land of the living. He then looked down to the sandy ground again. Brandon put a hand on his shoulder, smiling fondly "For taking a beating like that, you did pretty good." He then dropped the smile, concern dominating his voice, "Can you drive?"

Another moment passed before Wyatt mumbled, "Yeah..."

Brandon decided to push him just a small bit, taking his hand and pulling him up. An exhausted and emotionally defeated Wyatt followed in suit, standing up with him, but not making eye contact. Brandon pulled him over to his truck, "Are you sure?"

Wyatt still seemed dead in his eyes, but nodded before hoisting himself in. Brandon nodded back to him, the final line in that song crossing his mind...

... Please don't take my sunshine away.