"I'm beginning to notice a trend here," Wyatt scoffed, "We come at you, you beat us up."

Wyatt was on his knees, but still chuckled. Several paces ahead of him, Silver watched him as he held him at gun point, "It's funny, isn't it, how I tend to wipe the floor with you, but..."

Wyatt was staring right into the canister of the pistol, yet was surprised when Silver cast the gun aside. With that, he faked a yawn, "... This is starting to get repetitive. At least the gun thing is."

Wyatt seemed offended, "Wha- are you not entertained?" Even in his wounded pride, he saw his chance and stood up, "Fine! Well, how about a knuckle sandwich?"

He lunged after Silver, attempting to punch him again.

As they entered a fist fight, back at the pipe, Brandon attempted to wiggle something down his sleeve. Out of his shirt fell a dark blue LeBay Scientific Institution and Research Lab pen. Brandon picked up the pen and jabbed at his handcuffs, attempting to get loose.

Across the rubble of the broken building, footsteps crushing glass and scattering ash, the fist fight between silver and gold was steadily escalating. Silver blocked an attack from Wyatt, actually slightly weakening from the force behind it. With Silver briefly straggling, Wyatt raised his leg in a kick. Silver somehow saw it coming, with lightning fast reflexes grabbing his leg and pulling him. Losing his balance, Wyatt quickly fell to the ground, pieces of sharp debris causing cuts and sores. Silver took a step back, casual and lean, "Give up?"

Wyatt just growled, getting back up again and attempting to attack him again. Stubborn and ever so slightly crazy, he still managed to keep a straight posture while fighting this time around, but was still notably sloppy. In about a minute's time, he was already wearing down against the faster and more agile silver brawler. Eventually, Silver kicked him back, swiftly ducking down and picking up a glass shard. With the agility of a jaguar, the smoothness of water, Silver raised an arm and quickly aimed the thin, pointed glass at him. In a flash, the shard was thrown at him. Wyatt was a brawler for the most part, but still maintained good dexterity. The stunt man swerved aside, attempting to dodge it. While yes, he did manage to evade a killer blow, there was still a somewhat of an success... The glass narrowly missed pulling his left eye out, causing blood to fall from a large cut at the side of his face, close to the same level as his eye.

Even though the cut was not serious, the pain was enough to cause someone used to bruises and bumps, not open wounds, to cry out in pain. Wyatt grabbed his wound, a following gasp escaping him as his knees even shook for several moments. Silver seized the opportunity and kicked his lower legs, bringing him to his knees once again. Silver smirked upon watching Wyatt suffering, but pulled a move that surprised everyone. From behind his back, previously unnoticed, a small injection needle was clenched in his gloved hand. The thick, almost black in color liquid sloshed as Silver walked up to a wincing Wyatt. "Like I said earlier," he spoke, "Gold is overrated."

He swiftly jabbed Wyatt with the needle.

One eye shut, Wyatt could hear the liquid pumping into him. Silver placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling close to his ear, "How does it feel?" the silver driver spat venom, "How does it feel to suffer? How does it feel to be the last one out? To be forgotten? To be left behind?"

Silver smirked from beneath his helmet, "Something tells me that out of all you lot, you know the most. But still, not enough..."

Wyatt's eyes widened, weaknesses buried reemerging in his mind, "How? - ... do you ?-"

"Die!" Silver whispered with passion, pulling the empty needle out, "Wither up and die. Isn't that what you thought you were good for anyways?"

Tears formed in the southerner's eyes, "Not-not true... I'm better than that!"

Silver only chuckled, "Goodbye."

With that, Silver got up, raising the glass vial and slamming it against his skull. Another kick added for good measure, he knocked Wyatt out instantly. Brandon's head snapped up at the sound of glass shattering, witnessing it. "No..."

"Wyatt, no!"

Both silver and blue shot their attention to the entryway to the room, standing there were two more people. Green and red stood there for a moment, eyeing Wyatt's limp body, face down on the floor. Rhett was the first to look up at Silver with fury, clenching his fists in emotional highs, "You-"

"-Yeah, I beat him." Silver took the credit, "What you gonna do about it, you punky-"

Gage immediately responded, quick (what else) to anger and raced towards him, "Don't toy with him!"

Immediately, the fast paced fist fight commenced. Speed fighter against speed fighter, Gage's whirlwind of expertly performed blows and kicks only did so much against Silver's extremely well initiated defense. Unlike Wyatt, who relied his fists, Gage was primarily a kicker. Several side kicks aimed for him at once, Gage had completely forgotten about his wound...

Wyatt was injured, Brandon was chained, Rhett had lost his light. No more. Gage wanted this no more. Enough was enough, he felt it burning hard in him. Lightning struck sharply inside, an impulsiveness hotter than the flames of passion, and it wasn't exactly a good thing. Gage himself driven to the edge, he was on the full offensive, yet he did a poor job at driving him back.

None the less, it gave Rhett time to run over to Wyatt. He dropped to his knees, not minding the glass that scraped at his legs, "Wyatt?"

The sound of the two fighting several paces away barely registered. Rhett pulled Wyatt into his arms and checked his pulse. It was strong.

"Just fall already!" Gage shouted in rage.

Silver laughed, "Never!"

Rhett placed Wyatt's head down on a cleared section of the floor, "You'll be okay, just wake up..."

*Clink!* Brandon finally managed to break the handcuffs. As they fell to the ground, he pulled his arms in front of him, warming up again. Still feeling miserable himself, his quiet escape almost went unnoticed...

... That was almost.

He did not notice, neither did Gage, the way Silver perked up when the handcuffs hit the ground. Silver growled, his mood suddenly changing, "No more games..."

Out of the blue, a single offensive move was unleashed from the defense, and he aimed for the bullet wound Gage had obviously forgotten. Needless to say, the heavy impact hurt! Instantly, a pain filled shout escaped him. The wound was little under two days old, the bullet wound actually started to bleed again. As Gage dropped to his knees, Rhett looked up in sudden panic, "Gage!"

Silver grabbed a second shard of large glass, not aiming for Rhett but someone else. "Lights out, LeBay!"

Brandon's eyes briefly widened at the realization that he was Silver's target, but blue orbs weakened with a grim face that said it all - he was going to accept his fall. Silver chuckled, happy to have completely broken someone before killing them. The thrill of the battle making him a little blind to the world around him, Silver expertly threw the glass sliver.

Rhett instantly bolted up, running, "No!"

Gage barely winced his eyes open, only able to witness it.

Brandon closed his eyes, his closing thoughts dark and suicidal.

Fading to black.

The sound of glass piercing flesh was unmistakable.

...

*Drip* ... *drip,* *drip.*

Brandon felt secure, warm arms wrapped around him. For a moment, the darkness from his closed eyes seemed crimson. It was weird, he knew he was alive, and he felt... no pain...

Oh no...

Brandon's eyes flashed open.

There was Rhett.

The pain was an overload. Silent tears fell under such physical strain, he winced in attempts not to whimper. As usual, Rhett chose the worst time to crack a joke, "G-got your back..."

Indeed, the large shard was embedded in his back, possibly lodged in a vital spot.

Brandon's eyes widened, his voice nothing more than a small mumble, "Rhett..."

Rhett finally choked in pain, but hugged him tighter. Barely hanging on the verge of unconscious, he spoke again, "You may try to push me away..." Long, hallow breaths raised awareness of his horrid state, "But you will never shove me off."

Even the last three words barely made it out, grip weakened as his eyes shut. Like that, just like that, Rhett Rowan fell to the ground without a hint of consciousness.

Brandon's eyes only widened larger, frozen in place. He barely processed Gage's "no," a painful scream that echoed off the crumbling walls. Silver watched in awe. Even with his helmet covering his face, his body language showed a moment's shock before he... started laughing.

Brandon finally felt something different than guilt and sorrow. Finally, a frozen heart seemed to quickly thaw, overtaken by... anger. It was deep, dark, explosive as ten thousand nuclear bombs. Rage boiled as internal temperatures dramatically rose from zero to blazing. His face was hardened in fiery, the violent water spouts that were his eyes locked on a silver driver.

For the first time in his life, Brandon acted out on pure anger alone.

How did Brandon get from the pipe to right in front of Silver? His vision was too choppy to tell. When was he strong enough to knock him to the ground, his helmet rolling several feet away? On top of him, Brandon's dilated eyes were unable to half process, all physical pain was too numbed to realize. Brandon screamed, raising a fist and punching his enemy's cheek.

Yet it wasn't enough. Beyond the breaking point, border lining a mental breakdown, he just kept punching his face. Over and over and over again. It did not stop, every hit made him more high on the trap of revenge. Revenge could only do so much aside making even the calmest, sky blue hearts monstrous. As if Brandon had a heart left...

While insanity pushed Brandon so far, he punched so hard there was blood. Gage could of cared less, and despite his own wound dashed right up to his unconscious friend, "Rhett!"

Brandon was still punching, bony arms vibrating as he went past his physical limitations. He showed no signs of stopping or even slowing down... until another hand caught his bared fist. It was Wyatt. "Snap outta it!"

Suddenly, Brandon came to. He looked down and saw the silver driver was unconscious, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. It was there he noticed blood was on his own hands. The only thing alluding to Silver even being alive was the rising and falling of his chest. Wyatt looked awful, not only did he have a massive, bleeding slash across his face, one that would heal into a permanent scar, but he appeared dreadfully pale. Brandon instantly got up, staring at his slightly bloodied hands. Brandon started to hyperventilate, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. Was that the sun breaking through the dark grey clouds? Or was that his best friend again? As pale as he was, Wyatt smiled softly, "Was that... personality there?"

Brandon was the complete opposite of the sun. He was like the dark, lifeless, archaeology dead moon. Yet, why did the moon shine in the sky, still dazzle the world? It reflected the sun's light. And for all the horror Brandon had experienced today, a small bit of light was there, just enough to return to sanity upon seeing Wyatt awake. It was here though that senses returned, and the sound of Gage crying was easily pinpointed. They both quickly turned to see Gage in tears, holding the unconscious youngest member of the team in his arms. He was bawling, and it caused Wyatt's weary eyes to widen. Had he ever seen Gage cry like that before? As another mournful scream echoed across the room, Brandon gulped and ran over to him.

Wyatt attempted to follow, yet... his vision was groggy. A moment of light headedness attacked, causing him to almost fall to the ground. The stuntman barely caught himself, maintaining balance as hot chills came over him. Standing still, wide eyed, he wondered what on earth that silver driver injected into him.

Brandon fell to his knees, feeling more guilty than ever for anything. The sight of Gage weeping with the weight of a cloudburst caused surprising determination to form inside though, or at least gave him the strength to function well again. Brandon wiped the blood on his blue, torn shirt. Brandon ever so gently reached and, closing his eyes as he expected the worst, checked Rhett's pulse.

...

*Thump* ... *Thump* ... ... *Thump* ... *Thump*

Brandon's eyes flashed open, light returning to them as he instantly beamed in joy, "He's alive!" Brandon started laughing, "Rhett's alive!"

Gage slowly looked up, eyes bloodshot, and dared to also check his pulse. Gage started laughing too, "Buddy!"

Gage hugged the limp body, tears of joy replacing tears of sorrow. Brandon, meanwhile, noticed the glass shard in his back. Brandon took the shard and quickly, like a band aid, pulled it smoothly out. As much as nausea was attacking him, Brandon simply tossed the piece of glass aside. He reached and placed a hand on his leader's shoulder, "Gage, he may be alive, but he's bleeding a lot more than he should."

Gage seemed to be slipping into a state of unresponsiveness.

"Gage," Wyatt walked up to them from behind Brandon, eyes filled with sick worry, "Rhett doesn't have much time."

Gage looked up at Wyatt, his teary face admitting his weakened heart. Even if Wyatt was younger - only by a couple months - Gage had never seemed so young to him at all before this. None the less, Gage sighed, tears finally starting to slow, "Are you okay?"

Wyatt was snow white, sweating, and visibly shaking. What courage and selflessness it took though, he just shrugged, "I'm fine, but it's not me we should be worrying about..." Emerald eyes were focused on Rhett.

Brandon looked over his shoulder to Wyatt, a proud smile on his face, "Gage is the fastest, he should drive Rhett to the ER."

Gage nodded, face hardened in agreement, "Should we treat him before I go?"

Brandon turned back to him, shaking his head, "No time for that. You take his head, I've got his feet. Keep his head above his heart."

Still feeling heavy as lead, but still capable of trying, Brandon and Gage lifted Rhett. Wyatt immediately dashed towards the exit, "I'll 'git the doors!"

The door to the green sports car was opened, a bloody Rhett was put in the passenger seat. No time was wasted, Gage jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door. Immediately, with the speed of an agile cheetah, Gage sped off. Subconsciously, knowing Wyatt needed it, Brandon offered Wyatt his arm, "Lean on me."

Wyatt really must of been poisoned bad, because he did not argue or fight. Feeling Wyatt's full body weight almost caused him to drop, but Brandon kept hanging on, "How are you really?"

As if on queue, Wyatt bent over and emptied his stomach's contents onto the ground. Stubborn as a mule though, he shakily said, "Not bad."

Brandon's eyes narrowed, "I'm getting you to the hospital."

Attempting to get a better grip on him, Brandon helped him to the yellow truck parked several paces away. Multiple times, Wyatt staggered, tripping over his own feet. Brandon felt like he was pretty much dragging him. Several moments closer, Wyatt quickly shouted to stop. Brandon stopped, waiting as Wyatt vomited again. His arm, weakly clinging around Brandon's shoulders, felt quite cold. The possibly that Rhett was not the only one with his life on the line crossed Brandon's mind, it terrified him. After Wyatt finally stopped, Brandon pulled him towards the truck slowly, "Keep it easy, you're exhausted."

At this point, the only thing keeping Wyatt on his feet was Brandon. As Brandon opened the truck door with his free arm, he spoke, "I'm driving, can you climb into the passenger seat?"

Alas, it proved to be difficult to push and pull Wyatt up the mountain sized gab between the ground and elevated truck. Only after Wyatt was in, leaning his head against the head rest, did Wyatt start becoming more honest, "I see two of everything."

Brandon buckled them both up, "Not good." He slammed the door, starting the truck. As unused to driving it as he was, the fear of losing his closest friend pushed him to slam the gas pedal, "Rest up, I've got this."

Never before had Gage driven this fast. His car completely maxed out, steering so loose it neared uncontrollability, the car zipped past blurred streets so fast, pedestrians felt more like it was a brief breeze. Those who saw him only could catch the vehicle soaring past like a green bullet.

Somehow, Gage was never crashing, even if inside he felt like his entire world was. That hospital was still so far away, it was such a large city, his hands were sweaty with worry. He did not notice Rhett squirming in the seat next to him, glazed eyes slightly opening. Only when the boy whimpered in pain, tears falling from hazel eyes, did Gage realize Rhett was barely conscious.

"It..." Rhett whispered, squeezing his eyes shut, "... It hurts."

Gage dare not take his eyes off the road at this speed, but he took one hand off the steering wheel and placed it on his shoulder. Green tried so hard to comfort him, "I know it hurts, I know, it's okay."

Tears started forming in Gage's own eyes. Circling thoughts raced as he wondered how on earth it all had come to this.