Alison's POV
(bellamysgirl)

Bullets were loaded into the front of the bar with no end in sight, splinters of wood and shards of glass springing up every which way in a haze of dust. Right now, the only thing I'm worried about is if any of it turns sideways and sprays the rest of us in this gin joint. I know Misty's fine, probably hunkered down behind Luke. But the rest of us aren't. There was a second of pause in the bullets, and Luke hefted Misty out from behind the bar.

They dove left down a hallway right as the bullets started to follow them into the back kitchen. Thankfully, they went to the right around a corner before any of the bullets could actually hit them. The only injury I have to worry about is the gunshot wound on Misty's right arm. And my arms are all tied up. Well, metaphorically. Two of Diamondback's goons held onto me tightly through the whole ordeal, keeping me at bay.

The bullets stopped a second after Luke and Misty disappeared. A part of me was put at ease. But the rest of me knew that I needed to get back there or Misty was going to lose her arm. I side-glanced up and to the right. Does anyone even know how to hire good goons anymore? These yahoos weren't even paying attention to me. I inwardly sighed. Here we go.

With the loose grip and unsuspecting idiots, I was able to hike my elbow up enough to ram it right into the goon on my right side's face. And, while he writhed away in pain like a little girl, I turned and sent my heel into the temple of the goon on the left. I heard shouting, but I didn't stop to see who it was. I bolted. Down the hallway, through the kitchen, toward the back. My heart was thumping in my ears.

Come on, Alison, focus. My eyes scanned the kitchen. They stopped on a door at the back of the kitchen. A basement. Or a pantry. Either way, it'd make a great place to hide a six foot tall superman. I ran straight to it and yanked it open. Sure enough, Misty was shrunken against the wall and Luke was standing close by. He looked ready to deck me, but he sighed with relief.

"Alison," he breathed, turning more toward me. "You gotta start stomping or something." I quickly started in, making sure to close the door behind me. As I hit the bottom of the stairs, he started toward me. "Like that would help," I rolled my eyes, almost scoffing at his statement. He held out his arms a second before I stepped into them. The hug was quick, short lived. There was no time to stand around being affectionate.

People's lives were on the line. But it was a nice reassurance that we're both still here. I stepped back and went straight to Misty, crouching beside her. She held a cloth of some sort to the wound on her arm, but it was bleeding through. I tisked. "Have I taught you nothing?" I tossed the admonishment over my shoulder. "Stick to being bulletproof alright? Let me handle what happens after you get shot."

Luke huffed an airy chuckle. "Sure thing, boss."

I sighed and looked up at Misty. Her features looked worn, tired. She wouldn't last much longer if I didn't stop the bleeding. "I think this thing hit an artery, so I'm gonna need some help," I told her. "Do you have anything on you that could be used to tie something?" She looked at me like I was crazy a split second, but then her expression changed to one of realization.

Her hand went for her pocket. "I- I have floss, in my pocket," she replied, quickly. I leaned over and shoved my hand in her pocket, beating her to it, and pulled out the small square of dental floss. Like, seriously? Who keeps floss on hand? Apparently her. I flipped open the cap and started pulling. "Okay, I need you to move that cloth on my mark," I said, before biting off the string.

"What are you gonna do?" Luke asked, off over my shoulder somewhere.

"I have to cut off the blood's exit. So, in simple terms, I'm going to tie the artery off with the floss," I answered, moving closer to Misty's arm, readying myself. I heard a noise over my shoulder that sounded indecisive and uncertain of the course of action, and I scoffed. "Please, child, I can do this in my sleep. Read it and weep."

My eyes shifted up to Misty, "Now."

She moved her hand and the cloth underneath it and I quickly slid my index finger and thumb into the hole. She squirmed a little, crying out. It only prompted me to work faster. I got hold of the artery—that slippery sucker—and rounded the dental floss, wrapping it around it a couple times before trying to actually tie it. Misty looked to be holding back a scream. And, for a second, I felt bad.

Then I remembered what she did to me at the precinct, and I didn't feel so bad anymore. My fingers moved quickly to tighten the floss and then slid out. Misty exhaled, relaxing into the wall, breathing heavily. I grabbed her hand and the cloth, placing both over the wound. "Keep pressure on this," I instructed. "Got it?"

She nodded limply, not in the mood. "Got it."

"How do you know how to do that?" Luke asked, sounding mortified.

I twisted on my ankles to see him over my shoulder. "It's basic first aid. I learned this when I was in diapers."

"You scare me sometimes, Alison," Luke said, holding up a finger lightly. He turned and walked over to the stares, trying to listen to what was going on. There were still other hostages up there. I briefly wondered what was going on as well, but I shook the thoughts from my head. I have to focus.

Luke sighed heavily. "I have to go back out there. There are still hostages, and Diamondback can't get away with this—not again," he said, turning back toward us. I stood and turned toward him fully, keeping my arms far enough from my clothes so that the blood on my fingers didn't smear on my pants. "What about the Judas bullets?" I inquired. "He'll shoot as soon as your absurdly shiny head is visible."

"Alison…I've gotta go," he resigned, determined.

"Balls," I mumbled, under my breath. Then, louder, I said, "Fine…go." He nodded and quickly disappeared up the steps. Once he was out of sight, I slid down the brick wall to sit semi-beside Misty, exhaling deeply. This whole night has been a whirlwind. Things just keep happening too fast. "I'm sorry," Misty said, startling me a bit.

I raised an eyebrow, glancing up at her skeptically. "What decent-human-being bug bit your butt?"

"I mean it. I'm truly sorry. What I did…what I said, was completely uncalled for," she finished, ignoring my words. I sighed and dropped my head back against the wall. You mean how you first called me crazy, then upgraded to calling me a murderer worshipper—in so many words—and then added insult to injury by slamming me into a wall? Well, at least I got to hit her across the face.

I groaned, shaking my head. "I'm not hugging you."

"I don't want you to hug me," she shook her head in agreement. I leaned back, listening. I really wish I had Matt's super powers right about now. I'd know exactly what was going on up there. But, then again, I wouldn't be able to see. Maybe I'll just stick to being powerless? Yeah, good plan. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and I looked up at Misty. She was fading, sliding left.

I quickly moved up to my knees. I clamped my hand down on hers, the one holding her blood inside her body, and shook her shoulder with the other. "Misty? Misty, wake up, you incredible pain in my-!"

"Relax…" she said, groggily, sitting up just slightly. "I'm still here."

"You need to stay awake, alright? You can still make it out of this."

"Yeah, but I'll lose my arm."

I shook my head, "You don't know that."

"Just talk, Fletcher. Annoy me so badly I can't possibly sleep—I know you're dying to."

I sighed heavily. Okay, fine. You wanna hear my voice? Prepare to wish you'd never said that, Misty. "You know the son you criticized me for not being with? He's gonna be twelve soon. Had him when I was nineteen. That kid's so much stronger than me and he's not even half my size," I went on, leaning back on my legs. "All this? The aiding 'criminals', as you call it? I do it for him. So that he's safe."

She adjusted her position against the wall with a mild groan. "How'd you get roped into all this, anyway?"

"Good question. And the answer is less than good. Right place at the right time, I guess. All humans bleed."

"That's not ominous."

"Come on, Detective, you know exactly how I got my start. You don't read the paper?"

"I'm never gonna win with you, am I?" It was lighthearted, meant to be something to lift the weight off the mood. I shook my head, tilting it a little, giving her a small smirk. "Nope," I replied, lightly. "Not anytime soon, anyway. I'm not in the business of giving out information on close friends."

"Close friends, huh? You just have your nose in everything in this city, don't you?"

I dropped back onto my butt, trying to get the blood pumping through my legs again. They'd almost gone completely numb I was sitting on them so long. "Not everything. Just most of it," I smiled. She chuckled a little, leaning her head back into the wall. "Perks of being a reporter, I guess," she mused.

"Yep."

This situation could go a couple ways. None are really good. One, Diamondback kills Luke and eventually finds us in here and does the same. Two, the police get off their butts and do their jobs, coming in here and clearing the scene. But, in that scenario, Luke would most likely be caught in the crossfire and arrested. Three, Luke actually kicks the living daylights out of Diamondback, thus saving the day, and clears his name.

Which one is more likely? Probably either one or two. I sighed heavily and pulled myself up to stand. "Bored already?" Misty asked, sarcastically rhetoric. I walked in a straight line across the room to the opposite wall and stood facing it, trying to hear something. Not knowing what was going on was making my skin crawl. Any moment someone could-

The door at the top of the steps whipped open, causing the hinges to scream in protest, and I whirled to face Misty. She locked eyes with me and I held a finger up to my lips. Whatever ding-dong opened the door started down the steps, hitting the bottom in seconds. "Well, well, well." That voice. I recognize that voice. Then it hit me. Shades. "Look what the cat dragged in."

He stepped around the slice of wall covering my view from the stairs, only seeing Misty. I looked down. A few scattered pieces of wood and a box of nails lay strewn about the floor. I carefully plucked a two-by-four off the cement floor and inched my way toward Shade's back. He was talking, saying something demeaning and triumphant. But I didn't listen.

I edged close enough, raised the board, and whacked him across the back of the head with it.

It made a hollow thunk! and he dropped like a veal, thudding to the floor. I let the board clatter to the floor along with him and I straightened my shirt with a pointed huff. "That's how we do it in the Kitchen!" I shot, at his still, unmoving form, feeling proud of myself. I slammed my foot on his black lenses, laying inches from him, crushing them. "Not so fresh now, are ya, tightwad?"

I only looked up at the sound of Misty laughing—a very, very odd sound ringing in my ears. She looked like a doped up, cackling lunatic from my position. Probably just the lighting. That, or the loss of blood. Could be both. "Where'd you learn that move?" she asked, humorously. "Watching old karate movies?"

I rolled my eyes, fighting a smile. "Yeah, yeah. Yuck it up. You haven't seen the half of it."

There was something serious that flashed across her features, something darker than her cackling laugh. She nodded slowly in a suddenly overly-sobered fashion. "I believe it," she commented, in agreeance. I grabbed the pouch of dental floss off the floor and knelt beside Shades—seriously, what kind of name is that?—then got to work. I pinned his arms at his back and used the floss as rope.

I know, it won't hold too extremely well. But I wrapped it too many times to count and it was all I had, so that at least it gave Misty an illusion of safety from this nutjob. A sound upstairs caught my attention and I paused, looking up. There were echoes of mixed shouts filtering in through the floor.

"Get down!"
"Hands up!"
"Stay down!"
"Don't make me shoot you!"

The police. Wonderful. And they've either got Diamondback or Luke. How much you wanna bet that idiot got himself arrested? I sighed and stood, hurrying over to Misty. "Come on, let's get you outta here, yeah?" I said, bending and pulling her uninjured arm around my shoulders. I stood back up, hefting her with me, and she let me hold up most of her weight as we shuffled for the stairs. We took them one at a time.

It was a process, but I lugged her up to the ground floor and through the kitchen, toward the main room of the club. Sure enough, the police were putting cuffs on Luke center room. A couple cops aimed their guns on us as soon as we were in the room, but I grabbed Misty's badge off her belt and held it up. "Whoa, easy! We're hostages," I called. "She's been shot."

They lowered their guns and hollered for EMTs.

The cops that were available came over and took Misty from me, another asking me if I had any injuries. But I shook my head, unable to look away from Luke, being hauled outside at gun point. And, thanks to recent events, the cops now have Judas bullets. Isn't it just grand? Ugh. I'm starting to sound like Dani. I took a deep breath and followed the direction of traffic through the main doors of the club, out to the sidewalk.

I went to the first cop I saw and told him about the guy I had tied up in the basement. They went to go check it out while the other cops on scene were loading Luke into the back of the police transport van. I loosely crossed my arms, watching. Great. Could this retched trip to Harlem get any worse? I have to constantly remind myself to stop jinxing everything with my negative narration. It's got to get better.

Right? Because that's what happens. Things get bad because they're going to get better real soon. At least, that's what my dad used to tell me. He even told me that the day he died, on a voicemail message. So, yeah, things have to get better. I just hope I don't have to spend any more time with Misty than needed to fix all this garbage.