Vicky opens her eyes and leans up. "Alcohol now." She demands.

"I-what?" the paramedics reply. Vicky scowls at the pair of them, fully awake again. "Give me some damn medical juice so I can clean this wound!" she shouts. The paramedics attempt to hold her down, but she simply punches each of them in the throat. Vicky punches down the one as Timmy looks on in horror.

"Control yourself, lady!"

"I am!" she replies as the driver starts moving again. "Give me the alcohol and turn around!" she shouts. "What's going on back there?" The driver yells

Vicky jumps him as Timmy blocks the two paramedics in the back. "This is insane! How the fuck is this happening?" Timmy's heart is racing and his mind is shooting in a hundred different directions. He knew Vicky could be a criminal, but this was his first time seeing her truly vicious side. She might stab the ambulance crew with a syringe at any moment just to get the two out of there.

"Turn this junk heap around this instant!" "Oh, oh shit!" "Do you wanna die?! I said turn this fucking truck around!"

As the driver complies and switches off the sirens, she takes his cell phone and smashes it on the ground. She rips the radio off the cord and smashes it as well. Timmy has never seen Vicky this desperate before. She's a wild animal driven entirely by adrenaline. She rips a bottle of medicinal alcohol and pours it over her stomach wound. She hisses at the pain before grabbing a roll of medical tape and wrapping it around her stomach. One of the paramedics tries reaching for his pocket, only for Vicky to grab his hand. She holds tight like a vice until he drops his cell phone, then smashes it on the ground. Vicky then begins disinfecting her shoulder wound. She tries to rip out the bullet, but finds it's too embedded in.

"You, rip the bullet out, now!"

"But it's not properly cleaned!"

"Then fucking clean it!"

Vicky drops back down on the ambulance bed, trying to keep herself focused so she doesn't pass out from blood loss. The paramedic begins cleaning out the wound, trying to pull out bits of shrapnel and bloodied clothing. The process takes the entire length of time for the ambulance to return to their apartment. By this point, both cops have left, and no one is left outside. There are a few lights still on, but no one left to witness Vicky's hostage taking. After her wounds are clear, she starts wrapping them up. "Y-you can't just wrap it up. There could be smaller bits of shrapnel or clothing in the wound! You need proper suturing and that's only done at the hospital!"

Vicky grumbles at the green-eyed man before lifting off the gurney. "If you don't want me hurting someone in the apartments, then you drive straight back to the hospital. You don't stop to call the cops, you don't stop to try and tell someone, you drive all the way there!" she says. The paramedics agree with a nod. "Now get outa here! Scram!"

Vicky and Timmy watch as the ambulance drives off. Then they make a dash for their home. Vicky smashes the door open. "Get your stuff together, we only got about five minutes to get out of here."

Vicky runs into the kitchen and reaches under the sink. A hidden box below contains at least a hundred grand worth of stolen money. Timmy grabs the rest from under the bed, picking a couple of shirts for the both of them before running for the car. Vicky jumps into the side seat. "Twerp, you drive. We don't… don't need me passing out on the road and crashing."

"Um… yeah." Timmy says. Vicky is already sounding woozy again. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving her a pain stricken mess. Timmy hasn't driven much before, only practicing in empty lots with Vicky. But now he'll need to drive long into the night, with barely a good night's sleep from being discovered by his old therapist the day before. "Don't fall asleep on the road, twerp." Vicky says before passing out. Now he's all alone. No more tips and no second pair of eyes to make sure he doesn't screw up.

"Well, here we go."

Timmy drives until sunrise, wondering where he should go now that they'll soon be found out. Their names will be all over the news, now that they've held up an ambulance, even though Timmy is sure that Vicky would never kill anyone.

"Well, at least I hope she wouldn't." Timmy says aloud as Vicky starts snoring. Soon the pair is out of state. Vicky wakes up when it's nearly noon. "Twerp?" she mumbles. "I'm here. How are you feeling?"

"Shoulder hurts bad. Think… think we should have gone to the hospital." she mumbles.

"We would have been caught if we went with them."

"I know… still hurts." she says. Timmy can hear the defeat in her voice. Even with their early morning escape, they'll still end up hunted now that they've been found. They'll eventually have to ditch their car and somehow find new identities. Soon Timmy pulls over near a rest stop, taking a few minutes to try and wake himself up. "Should of… should of got two pairs of fake IDs." Vicky says.
"Should have done a lot of things different… but here we are." Timmy says. It feels like a dream. A dream he wants to wake up from. He wants to wake up in his bed with Vicky in his embrace. No mad cop, no hostage taking, and not wondering if Vicky is going to die in the car. Tears begin to fall. He tries his best to hold them back, but he can't. He falls against the steering wheel and begins to sob. Soon he feels the touch of a warm hand. Vicky pulls him into an embrace. Now he feels even worse. He should be the one comforting her, but here he is, falling apart when they still haven't figured out where to go. "I'm sorry, Vicky. I…"

"Shush, twerp. We'll get out of this… we always do. Now let's… let's get some coffee."

Timmy nods and steps out of the car. "Get… try and find some first aid, this thing's getting a bit leaky." Vicky says, pointing to her stomach. Timmy can see a small stain where the tape is soaked in blood.
"Uh, yeah." Timmy says. He drags his sleepy self out of the car and begins walking. He notices a security camera recording the entryway, and knows he's now given another potential link to their crimes. Timmy makes sure he's fast enough to reduce the risk of being found out. He grabs coffee for the both of them, then tries to find some first aid.

He notices a wall with a first aid kit behind the counter, with two cashiers both watching. "Do you need anything?" a lady with a ponytail and an expression that says "I literally don't care about anything."

"Uh, yeah. My sister got hurt pretty bad on when we were hiking. We need some medical tape, and maybe some disinfectant."

"Ah, sure, fine." she mumbles. The lady goes and pulls down the first aid kit and hands it over. "Just make sure you bring it back, or whatever."

"Yeah, thanks." Timmy says. He takes the first aid kit around his arm while holding both coffees. He's about to walk away when he's stopped by an older man in the same clothing as the cashiers and tourist guides. "Hang on we can't just let that out of sight. And we need to make sure you aren't just stealing pain killers."

"I just need some medical tape and medicine." Timmy replies. "Nope, sorry, no can do, kid." Timmy takes a deep breath as he's forced to bring the manager along with the medical supplies. Vicky's still sound asleep in the car as Timmy walks up. He opens the door on his side while the manager waits at Vicky's. Timmy sets the coffees in the front seat cup holders before going back to the other side. "I can handle this." Timmy says. "I've got some experience treating wounds." Timmy hopes his lie is enough to let him deal with Vicky's wounds. "I still have to see what's happened. I don't need you stealing painkillers or alcohol." the man says. He doesn't trust Timmy enough to not be a thief. Timmy gulps as he opens the door. He knows Vicky needs medicine, but he also knows they don't need another witness to get the cops on their trail. Vicky opens her eyes and smiles at Timmy, before it turns into a frown at seeing the man behind her twerp.

"Who's… who's this?" she says. "Uh, he's here to make sure we don't steal anything."

"Can you walk?" the manager asks. Vicky's pained grumble at shifting in her seat gives him the answer. Vicky lifts up part of her shirt and shows him the wound. "I fell on a pretty sharp rock and hit my stomach and shoulder pretty bad. Don't think anything is broken, but there's a fair amount of blood."

"When did that happen?" the man asks as he retrieves a band of medical tape. "We went hiking this morning." Vicky replies. Timmy is glad they operate on the same wave length, coming up with the exact same excuse. "There's no trails nearby, why'd you come all the way here?"

"We were driving home when it started leaking again." Timmy responds. The manager seems to buy their excuses for the moment, but any second he might realize that Vicky's wounds were from gunshots. "I can take it from here, thanks." Timmy says. The old man crooks an eyebrow. Timmy and Vicky seem really driven on not letting anyone deal with Vicky's wounds. But they don't seem to be drug addicts, trying to steal for any reason, and he can sure enough see blood leaking through the bandages on Vicky's side. He hands them a roll of tape and some rubbing alcohol, then prepares to leave. He pauses momentarily and looks back at Vicky's wounds one last time before heading back. Timmy notices his pace is just a slight faster than before. "I think we should get going first." Timmy says. He starts the car and pulls out of the rest stop just as the manager takes out his cell phone. Timmy barrels down the highway, flying at least ten miles past the speed limit as he tries to reach the next exit. "Twerp, why you going so fast?"

"That guy was just about to call the cops." Timmy replies as he tries to keep his breath steady. "That… prick." Vicky says weakly. "When you spot the exit, pull in to a hotel… we'll figure out what to do then."

Timmy nods as they continue on their way. They find the nearest exit, luckily not too far from the pit stop, and are soon wandering a small town deep in the forest. They drive into the parking lot of the only hotel available. "What do we do?" Timmy asks, taking a sip of coffee. He didn't like the taste much, but he needed the caffeine, the energy. He notices Vicky trying to rip her shirt off one handed, with a piece stuck in her mouth holding it up. Timmy sets his coffee down.

"Let me help with that." Timmy says. He pulls the shirt over her right arm and sets it down. He fights back tears as he removes the old wrappings. Vicky groans at the sting of the tape pulling away from her wounds.

"How's the pain?" Timmy asks.

"Same as before. Feel like shit."

Vicky takes the alcohol and pours it over her bullet wounds. The sting makes Vicky hiss in pain. After cleaning the bullet hole as best she can, Vicky and Timmy start wrapping the new bandages over the wound. "Where do we go from here?" Timmy asks. He can see that Vicky's wounds are bad. Without proper medical care, she could develop a deep infection. Timmy tries to think on how they should proceed. He knows a professional hospital would probably call the police on someone with two bullet holes in them. He sees Vicky's red hair is starting to show through the hair dye. He knows his own hair will soon be revealed. It would only be a matter of time before their identities are pieced together. Timmy himself doesn't know anything about stitching up wounds and would simply make everything worse. "Vicky might know… but she's hurt pretty bad. Even if she does know there's no way she could do it with one arm." Timmy thinks and thinks on the best course of action. He knows that the time is ticking down before Vicky either needs serious emergency care or they're caught by the cops. Then an idea pops in to his head. An awful, stupid, almost never likely to work idea.

"Uh… A.J.'s gonna be a doctor." Timmy says, thinking aloud.

"What?" Vicky replies sternly, as if she just heard the dumbest idea possible.

"I… he's smart. Smarter than both of us."

"No. He knows us, he knows me, and there's no way in hell he'd be up to it. He'll fuck up accidentally or on purpose just to get to me."

"But he knows me." Timmy replies. "He knows how I've felt since the last time we've seen each other. He doesn't understand, but he's my friend. I… I think he's our best shot."

Vicky protests loudly. "Twerp, he isn't gonna do it!"

"Trust me, Vicky! This is the only… only way we can stay together… any other way and we're fucked."

Timmy doesn't want to admit it, but Vicky could be right. But he also knows that without A.J., they're trapped between a rock and a hot plate, slowly getting crushed between two terrible outcomes. At least with A.J., Timmy has a chance to convince him to help, and he knows that his old friend is smart enough for the task.

"Vicky… I don't want to lose you." is all he says. Vicky takes a deep breath, realizing that if they want to stay together, this is the only way to accomplish it. The only option with even a slight chance of success.

"Fuck it, let's do it." Vicky says. Without another word, Timmy pulls out of the parking lot and starts driving back home, the least likely place for anyone to look for the pair. Timmy drives southwest, long into the day. Vicky sleeps most of the time, trying not to move too hard with her wounds. They stop only once to change Vicky's bandages again, and as the sun is setting they've returned to Dimmsdale, California. Timmy pulls up to an Apple store and uses their stolen cash to buy a new phone. He hurries back to the car, keeping his eyes lowered and his hat pushed down to avoid any security cameras. After pulling into an empty parking lot, Timmy calls the one friend who accepts their relationship.

"Hello." Tootie says. "It's me, Timmy. Can you get ahold of A.J.?" Timmy asks quickly. "I, uh, why?" Tootie responds worriedly. "Vicky's hurt. Real bad. Some psycho cop or something hunted us and tried to kill us."

"What?! Oh god, are you okay?!"

"I'm fine, but Vicky needs help. And the only one who can do that is A.J."

"I, what, but how?!"

"He's practicing for being as surgeon, right?"

"Ah, yeah, but he's only sixteen!"

"And he's the smartest person in the state, maybe the freaking country. He once built a model nuclear reactor that got the FBI called in to dismantle it. He's a super nerd and my friend, so he should be able to help with Vicky's wounds."

"I… okay. Fuck. Meet me behind the Nasty Burger. It closed down about a month ago so it's safe."

"See you there."

Timmy hangs up the phone and smashes it, just in case someone tries to link it back to him and Vicky. Timmy drives over to the Nasty Burger and waits in the car. He checks his hair in the mirror, trying to make sure he still has enough blonde in his hair to disguise himself. He pulls up to the Nasty Burger, with its windows boarded up, the sign taken down, and no sign of any activity. A wave of nostalgia overwhelms Timmy. How many summer days and weekends did he spend in there? Too many to count. Now it's gone, a seemingly appropriate metaphor for his relationships with everyone.

"We'll always be together, right?" Chester asks.

"Always." Timmy and A.J. reply

"Always." Timmy whispers to himself as Vicky wakes up, growling at the pain in her arm. "Is it still bleeding?" Timmy asks. "A bit, yeah. Not as bad as before." "I'm going to meet with Tootie and A.J… uh, don't die on me."

"Ha. It'll take more than this to do me in." Vicky replies with a pained laugh. Timmy gives her a quick kiss before leaving her in the car. He takes a deep breath. This would the first time seeing A.J. in two years. Would he yell? Would he leave? Would he just take his cell phone out and call the cops right then and there?

Timmy pushes those questions to the back of his mind. A.J. was always the least judgmental of the group. He had to believe that A.J. would help, otherwise the only place left to go would be the hospital, and then Vicky would be thrown in jail. So Timmy waits in the alley. Minutes pass like hours, and Timmy tries to keep focused on his breathing, trying not to panic or punch the wall until his knuckles bleed. He has to reassure himself "Deep breaths, Timmy. Deep breaths."

After another couple minutes, he hears a voices approaching from the other side. He looks over and sees Tootie and A.J. coming through. "So why'd you bring me down here?" A.J. asks suspiciously. "You're not, like, trying to buy drugs or anything right?"

"Why the heck would you think that?"

"Well, there's that pale looking dude who looks like he's waiting for someone. Seriously, this better be a prank or something."

Timmy can't help but smirk. A.J. can't even recognize him. That was always the idea, but now that he hears it, the pain stabs him like a knife. "Just… we need your help." Tootie says. "Who?" A.J. responds

"I do." Timmy says at last. He looks his friend in the eye and waits for him to see through his disguise. His eyes bulge, his pupils dilate, and he inhales deeply. He stumbles in place as his mind races.

"Ti… Timmy?"

A.J. is frozen in place, far too shocked at seeing his friend after two years. He walks over as Timmy bears a small, bittersweet smile.

"Where… where the hell have you been?" he asks incredulously. "I, uh… been busy." is all Timmy can say. "I need your help, A.J. Vicky's hurt pretty bad."

"What?... you just, you just come all this way, after all this time, just to ask for my help?!"

"Vicky's been shot." Timmy replies sternly. "I ain't going to argue." Timmy turns to meet his friend's gaze, continuing to speak matter-of-factly. "She needs help, and we can't go to a hospital. Some psycho cop or detective or something found us out, and it's only a matter of time before someone tears our home apart looking for clues or she gets some horrible infection and dies."

"She's… she's shot?" A.J.'s anger has faded slightly. "Shot? How?"

"She… she tried to save me. That cop was going to kill us. I saw it in his eyes. He was hunting us like animals, and he was gonna put us both down. Vicky jumped in front of me and took two rounds… we can't go to a hospital. People will be asking too many questions."

"You… you want me to… to perform surgery?" A.J. gulps. He realizes just what Timmy wants him to do. He's only ever watched surgeries done before, only studied in books how to proceed, but he's never handled the tools, never actually been in the room when the surgery was done. "We just need you to get two bullets out and stitch her up." Timmy says, trying to reassure his friend. "You don't understand, Timmy. Bullet fragments could have caused some serious damage. I can't just magically sew her up like a torn shirt… I gotta have medical equipment."

"Then find it." Timmy demands. A.J. goes silent. He has never heard Timmy so commanding before, sounding like a completely different person. Timmy releases a deep sigh. "I'm sorry, A.J… it's just… I don't know how bad it is… and I don't… I just don't know what to do…"

"She really means that much to you, doesn't she?" A.J. asks.

"More than the world." Timmy responds sullenly.

A.J. swallows before responding. "We'll need medical supplies… and an x-ray machine. You two should head over to the vet. Tootie, I need you to head over to Chester's. Pretend that we're all spending the night together. Or Chester got super drunk and we had to take him home. Just, make up some kind of excuse. I'll figure out what to tell them in the morning. Timmy, take Vicky over to the vet's office. It's on Fifth and Mannard, near the Dimmadome parking lot. I'll meet you over there in a bit."

Timmy replies "Thank you."

"You should hurry, Timmy."

Timmy smiles hopefully before running off. "I'll see you there!" Timmy shouts behind him. He gets in the front seat and turns the engine on.

"So are we fucked, twerp?" Vicky asks.

"No. A.J. agreed to help us."

Vicky lets out a long sigh of relief. "First good news I've heard all day."

Timmy drives over to the vet's office.

"So you think they're calling the cops, twerp?" Vicky asks with a laugh.

"No way." Timmy replies with sly confidence. He knows he's been able to keep his friends on his side.

Timmy brings his lover to the vet's office. No lights are found inside, and a closed sign is left on the window by the door. A.J. helps sneak Vicky and Timmy through the back. He turns on the lights, washes everything down just in case, dons his surgeon gear complete with face mask and gloves, and prepares for the first surgery of his life.

Vicky begins removing her shirt. A.J. tries not to focus too much on the sight of his old nightmare babysitter stripping naked. She hasn't worn a bra since the night before, and now A.J. can see everything. Everything. He ignores the beautiful evil amazon's lustrous chest in favor of focusing on her shoulder wound. A.J. places the X-Ray over her. He takes the necessary snapshots and begins developing the pictures.

"So twerp, if we make it out of this, then what?"

Timmy is caught off guard by the question. For the last twenty four hours, the only thing on his mind has been the immediate need to get Vicky medical attention. But as he ponders the question, he realizes how completely fucked the pair of them are. They've lost their false identities, the cops and FBI have probably already started up another manhunt, and eventually the both of them will be found out.

"I… don't know." he responds dejectedly. "We… we could try to rent a place somewhere east. Maybe near Chicago… or something."

"I… maybe it'd be best… to just stick with the car for now." Vicky replies.

"On the road… we'll need to get new license plates."

"Maybe I can rip some off of a used car. Or buy some from one of my old crime buddies."

A.J. ignores the casual discussion of criminal activities in favor of focusing on his work. He examines the x-rays and finds that the bullet in Vicky's stomach became lodged in flesh, with the one in her shoulder fragmenting against the upper bone.

"Judging from these, and the fact that you're still alive, there doesn't seem to be any major organ damage or cuts to the arteries."

Timmy swallows on that last one. "She could have died."

"So now what?" Vicky asks.

"We'll see on what we need to remove. Maybe some of it, maybe none. If anything's blocking a vein or broken bone from healing properly, we'll need to get rid of it."

"Alright. Get to it."

A.J. takes a single deep breath to calm his nerves, and then begins peeling back the layers of bandages. Over the next half hour, he removes the bullet fragments and pieces of cloth that are in the way of repairing the wound. Timmy is his assistant, keeping the sweat out of his eyes and trying to help Vicky stay still. He can see the pain in her eyes. She releases low growls and pained hissing throughout the procedure, keeping herself steady to avoid causing needless pain. Timmy is surprised he barely needs to hold her down. She manages to keep the twitching to a minimum, and before they know it, A.J. has completed the first part of the surgery.

"Not bad for a sixteen year old." Vicky mumbles, trying to focus on anything but the stabbing pain in her arm.

"Not out of the woods yet." A.J. replies. After making sure that Vicky's arm is stitched together, A.J. begins wrapping a cast around Vicky's arm and shoulder. "You think she'll need that?" Timmy asks.

"Any movement could tear the hole or something inside." A.J. responds.

Next A.J. starts removing the bandages around her stomach. "You sure you want to do both at once?"

"Just get it over with, lil' guy." Vicky mumbles. Timmy can see it in her eyes. She's far more tired than she's ever been. The fiery joy of chaos is replaced by a numb, yet determined desire to push through the pain as fast as possible. A.J. begins work on the second bullet. He removes the bullet from Vicky's stomach, and then begins sealing up the open wound. He staples the wound closed to prevent further bleeding and infection. It's nearly four in the morning by the time A.J. has finished.

"My parents must be worried sick about me by now." A.J. says. He rips off his surgical mask and helps Vicky off the table. "Make sure you don't put too much pressure on it, and don't move around too much either. Try and get some sleep when you can."

"Don't suppose you know a place to stay, do you?" Vicky asks.

"There's a homeless shelter in downtown Dimmsdale, but someone might recognize you."

"Guess… guess we'll have to sleep in the car." Timmy says with a yawn. He's been up so long he can barely keep his eyes open. The pair leaves the vet while A.J. goes over to Chester's house, to try to make the lie at least somewhat believable.

Vicky heads towards the driver's seat. "Shouldn't I drive?" Timmy asks with another yawn. "You've been up all day and night. At least I had some shut-eye." Vicky says.

"Come on, I'll drive. Don't want you fainting in the middle of the road." Timmy says.

"It's fine."

"So let me drive." he says casually. Vicky grumbles.

"You know you're starting to get way too stubborn, twerp."

"I learn from the best." he says as he gets back in the driver's seat. Vicky gets back in the passenger's side, struggling slightly to do fasten her seatbelt with one hand.

"Where… where're we going, Vicky?"

"Find some parking lot and stay there for the night. After that… fuck if I know."

"Do you think… we should try and find another car?"

"… What do you mean?"

"To… I guess steal it."

Vicky grins at Timmy's idea.

"You're starting to develop a criminal side to you. It's cute."

Timmy laughs slightly as he turns around to look Vicky in the eyes.

"But then someone will report the car missing. So that won't work, twerp."

"Maybe… switch license plates."

"We'll do that in the morning. For now, get some shut eye."

Timmy drives until they find a place to stay. Timmy pulls in under some trees for shade while Vicky rolls the window's down.

"Can't we just leave the AC on?" Timmy asks.

"Don't want to run down the car battery. Besides, it'll be fine." Vicky says, mumbling as she passes out from exhaustion. Timmy falls asleep soon after, dreaming of happier times as the stars move overhead.