A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the wait. It's due to a severe case of writer's block. I'm still not happy about the chapter, but I hope you can give me some feedback and criticism. Enjoy!
XI
What the hell is she wearing? That skirt is entirely... Oh, get a grip, Sam scolded himself silently, now is not the time. He kept staring, though, staring at his beautiful girlfriend that had just entered the warehouse. Was he hallucinating? And if so, why was Detective Peck following Andy? No, this was real, so very real it hurt. Connor's knife nicked his skin, but Sam hardly felt it. At least the burning helped to fight off the strange sense of vertigo that had befallen him around the time she had entered.
While he still tried to find out what was going on, Andy had been discussing something with Connor, then she was given the knife. Clever girl, playing those criminals like dolls, Sam thought in amazement. Suddenly she was close, roughly jerked his head back and thereby allowed him to look directly into her soulful brown eyes. One could easily get lost in those eyes.
"Hi, Sam", she said and he could see the beginning of a smile form on her lips. For a second, he assumed the expression was directed at him, but then he felt her grip change slightly and realized that this was her dangerous, I'm-going-to-break-the-rules-now smile.
As soon as she exploded into action, Sam was ready and let himself fall to the ground, out of Connor's reach. My turn. With that idea in mind, he rolled, ignored the horrible pain in his leg and rose right behind Johnny, who didn't see his demise coming. Sam used his tied wrists to pull the Irishman into a tight choke-hold after Peck had thrown the criminal off his balance with a quick punch to the jaw. Johnny's right hand was clawing at Sam's grip, but his left was struggling to reach the gun in his belt and turn the tables again. Detective Peck and Sam both realized it just in time to prevent the action. Relentlessly, Sam leaned backwards as far as he could, pulling Johnny to the tips of his toes and increasing the pressure to his windpipe so the criminal had to draw on the strength of both arms to keep up his supply of air. Meanwhile, Peck dodged the kicking feet and used the distraction to grab the weapon.
"Check the legs. He usually carries two", Sam advised, breathing hard. He sank down into a sitting position when Johnny became dead weight in his arms. They sat like father and child in an embrace, much of Johnny's body lying sprawled across Sam's lap. Soon the Detective noticed with a frustrated sigh that he couldn't get up from his awkward position.
"Need a hand?", Steve asked and Sam nodded gratefully.
"Thanks, man", he said and meant much more than the simple gesture that pulled him back to his feet. Quickly, he turned around to assist Andy, then smiled when Steve rightly observed that she had things under control. In fact, Connor was lying on the ground with a split lip and a deep gash in his leg whereas Andy seemed unharmed and ready to take on an army. Sam on the other hand didn't want to waste time on the two gangsters, longing instead for a well-cooked meal, a warm bed and Andy's charming company.
"Let's get out of here", he suggested and held out his hands when Andy came over with the knife. She efficiently cut the plastic bonds, allowing Sam's blood to flow freely again. However, it also showed off the impressive variety of blue and reddish abrasions he'd received from the fall in the street and the rope burns from earlier. Still, it was okay, it would heal.
"I'm fine. Just need to leave here", he reassured his girlfriend when he saw her distraught expression. Detective Peck groaned and admitted that getting out might be a problem. "See, we barred the door upstairs. There are about a dozen Brannigans trying to get in."
"A dozen?", Sam repeated and blinked slowly, trying to clear the dizziness from his mind. Why on earth would O'Sullivan ever station so many of his men to watch a single, injured hostage? Paranoia was one thing, but that move bordered on madness.
"Well, there were two guards. Then there are about five guys that followed our car after we met the big boss, plus our driver – who's also one of the bad guys -, and last but not least, there are Boyden and Frankie", Andy explained and ticked them off with her fingers while she counted. Sam wanted to comment, but the instance he opened his mouth to ask one of his billion questions, something upstairs exploded and he changed his mind.
"Run!" Together, they made for the exit behind the bar. Sam was stumbling along, refusing to be a burden. His face went white as the pain hit him, proving that the pain medication must be wearing off, which couldn't have happened at a worse moment. As if she'd read his mind, Andy turned around and asked whether he was okay.
"Yeah", he said and froze when he met her gaze. Behind her, the back exit had swung open. Sam only saw the black outline of bodies, knew that it was too early for backup too have arrived and reacted on instinct. "Get down!", he shouted in alarm and already shoved Andy through a half-opened door on the side of the hallway. A spray of bullets was raining down on them and missed him by inches, so Sam quickly followed suit and ducked into the room. Steve nearly bowled him over when he dived in after them.
"Fuck. Where are we? And who the hell are they?", Steve wanted to know and hit the dirty wall as hard as he could.
"Ladies' bathroom", Sam informed the others and sank down against one of the stalls, close to blacking out from fatigue. His body was shaking with adrenaline and his his hands clutched Johnny's second gun, although he didn't know how much use he'd be in a shootout. Dizziness and nausea rolled over him in long waves and Sam knew he couldn't last much longer. At least the room's layout provided decent cover, he thought, because the door only led to the washbasins while the toilets had to be accessed through another doorway and around a 90 degree corner. Andy and Steve had already taken positions and were waiting for the inevitable attack. They were all rather shocked when Connor's voice resounded.
"You alright in there?"
"Yeah, peachy!", Sam shouted back, then coughed and decided to be silent from now on and go easy his raw throat. Andy's amused grin made up for it, though.
"We've got you outgunned and outnumbered, you don't stand a chance", Connor stated and almost sounded sorry about it. "You know, Steve, I never took you for a cop. Little Sammy, yes, him I did suspect, but you... I always liked you."
"Er, thanks?", Steve replied and glanced at Andy, who shrugged to acknowledge that she had no idea where this was going either. Nevertheless, talking meant less shooting. And less shooting was good.
"You and your girl Aline can still get out of this alive! You don't need to die here, man. C'mon, think! Is he really worth it?", Connor's voice echoed through the chamber. And although Sam had never doubted his colleague, he winced when he heard the offer. Even more so as he noticed the long meaningful look between Steve and Andy.
"Yes, absolutely!", they answered in unison. Sam sighed, smiled and closed his eyes, reassured that he was finally safe.
XII
"What a jerk!", Andy hissed in anger, "trying to pit us against each other like that. Thank God we know each other so well, this could have been embarrassing." Steve nodded and checked his gun again. They both heard the movement directly behind the door and got ready to protect themselves with all they had.
"Unfortunately this also seems to herald the end of negotiations", Detective Peck noted, grimacing when the first bullet hit the wall next to his head. Tiles broke and dust rose as they replied in kind, only to retreat again behind the corner.
"Use your bullets sparingly, we don't have extra ammo." Good advice, but Andy didn't know how to heed it. Her ears were ringing from the shots and their echoes in the small room, her sight was greatly diminished and her aim with the unfamiliar weapon hadn't been great to start with. But every time she saw a target, she tried to hit, meaning she ran out of bullets in less than a minute. Nonetheless a part of her was glad when she shouted that she was out, because even though it had been kill or be killed, she felt bad for shooting with the intention to kill. It wasn't right.
Perhaps she was careless, preoccupied with her guilty conscience. All she knew was that one moment she was fine, working to keep herself and her friends alive. Then suddenly a ripping pain tore through her body and she fell, face first, to the ground.
"Andy! Andy, are you okay?" Steve's voice was tinged with worry, yet Andy couldn't find an answer. Was she hurt? Was she dying? Groaning, she rolled around and carefully moved further out of the line of fire. Her legs and stomach seemed fine, knees bruised from falling but otherwise okay. Fingers could move... aaah. Right shoulder. Andy bit down on her lips to stifle a cry, not wanting to alert Sam and Steve.
"I'm hit", she admitted tensely and winced when Steve emptied his clip into the opening to the hallway to fight off the advancing Brannigans. She watched as he blindly gripped the last gun, keeping his eyes trained on the door. Andy noticed the smudges of dirt on his face. It was terribly dirty here, layers upon layers of old trash now powdered with broken ceramic. And bloodstains, there were fine red dots on the wall behind her and a bigger pool next to Sam's body.
"Why is he bleeding again?", she asked herself slowly, blinking in slow-motion a few times. The rational part of her brain argued that the movement must have reopened his wounds, but the thought was lost somewhere on the way. She'd been injured and was in shock, making her brain slow down. Her heart, however, skipped a beat when she became aware of her boyfriend's deathly pallor and suddenly her concern overrode anything else.
"Sam? Sam!" Andy quickly scooted over to him. He wasn't moving, not even when she shook him. His head was lolling to the side and his chest slid further down the wall. "Sam! Sam!", she screamed repeatedly, unaware of her surroundings. It wasn't until someone pulled her away from him that she noticed the fighting was over. There were officers all around her, interviewing Detective Peck, marking evidence, arresting people. Andy didn't care, all that mattered was Sam's battered frame. She was staring blankly into Oliver's eyes as he held her back so the medics could rush in. He was talking, but she couldn't hear a thing. "He's not waking up. He's not waking up and I don't think I felt a pulse", she stated with tears streaming down her face.