TWs: Gun violence/shooting, blood, mention of hospital, and threats. Stay safe :)

Larry always worked late hours at the studio; this night wasn't any different. His boss, Bing, sometimes joined him; however, he had a last-minute arrangement that needed to get done elsewhere.

So Larry was by himself that night, organizing papers into the correct vanilla folders.

The process was muscle memory for him, having been used to correcting mistakes made by Bing. He would always stuff papers in the wrong folders and wonder what happened to them when he tried looking for them in the folder it was supposed to be in.

The director would be lost without him. Heck, he's lost even with Larry around.

Larry grimaced as he felt a stinging sensation on his finger. Looking down, he realized it was a paper cut.

'How annoying...' He thought to himself as he finished filing the vanilla folders in the cabinets. He got up from his seat, making sure the filing cabinets were locked before heading out into the hallway.

The lights were dim, and the building was silent; only Larry's footsteps made any noise. He knew his way around the building, knowing every nook and cranny of the studio since his first day as an assistant.

'For emergency purposes,' He's told himself since day one. That was the truth to some extent, except it wasn't the reality.

Larry stopped when he heard something behind him. Turning his head, he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Despite the rising anxiety he was feeling, he continued to move forward, walking at a faster pace toward the exit.

When seeing the studio door, relief flooded through him. He sighed as he came to a stop a few feet away from the exit.

Larry's eyes widened as he saw graffiti on the door, outlining a familiar symbol.

'It can't be...'

Footsteps sounded behind him, "If it isn't Lawrence!"

Larry froze as the footsteps stopped a few feet behind him.

"I haven't seen you in forever, Major- how have you been?" A British voice chuckled hauntingly.

Larry didn't say a word, continuing to stand by the exit as he stared at the white paint.

"You know... it's not nice to ignore someone who's speaking to you."

There was a shift.

"How's your eye doing?" The man queried, "Still 'missing'?"

"What do you want, you bastard?" Larry mumbled, clenching his fists tightly.

Another deep chuckle, "Nothing; I just figured I'd pay a visit to one of my best soldiers."

"I'm not a part of your group of nihilists."

"The Black Army isn't nihilism- we're just making way for the New World by bringing an end to everything corrupt."

"Your version of the New World sounds like Hell." Larry scowled, turning around to face the man dressed in black.

BANG

Larry fell to the ground with a grunt, feeling a searing pain on the right side of his chest. He gripped it, trying to hold in the blood as black dots filled his tearful vision.

"You're gonna regret you ever said that, Lawrence." The person stepped closer to Larry, peering over the injured figure, "Pathetic. You're not going to die."

Larry watched with fading eyes as the tanned man got a phone from behind the reception desk.

He dialed the emergency number, smirking, "I'll make sure of it."

The man in a black uniform watched from the shadows as Larry was taken to the hospital. As soon as the ambulance left, he smirked. His plan was going smoothly thus far.

All he had to do now was get rid of the other one.

It was raining as he walked the streets of England in search of a specific place.

Few cars drove by and the streetlamps buzzed overhead. Most stores were closed and the sidewalks were devoid of life.

The guy stopped in front of a fancy gate, squinting at the mansion. His gaze fell upon the nameplate on the brick fencepost.

'Your turn, asshole.'

Arthur wasn't sleeping that night. He tried, but sleeping in that room reminded him of her, so he decided to stay up and code.

His fingers swiftly pressed the keyboard, having remembered every part of the layout.

"I'm detecting an unfamiliar heat signature."

Arthur stopped, perking up at the AI's voice. He turned around in his seat, raising an eyebrow, "Current location?"

"Downstairs, coming in through the living room."

Arthur grabbed his cane, tiptoeing through the hallway and down the stairs.

"Wait." The AI spoke, "They're at the entryway to the living room."

"Turn the lights on," Arthur whispered.

"Turning all lights on."

The mansion flickered to life all at once, startling the person at the doorway, "What in the-!?"

The older ginger stepped in front of the mysterious guy, "Who are you and what do you want?"

The spiky-haired man scowled at him, "Seriously? Who am I? I know it's been years since we've seen each other, but c'mon!"

Arthur's eyes widened, "William?"

"No duh, dipshit." He spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

William smirked, tightening his spiky ponytail, "You remember the note I left you years ago? Back when you met- what was his name again... Lawrence?"

"What about it?" Arthur frowned, clutching his cane.

"The choice is yours." He pulled out a gun, aiming it at Arthur, "Either save him or yourself."

"He has a gun," C told Arthur.

"What did you do to Larry?" Arthur glared.

William ignored him as he grinned, "This is the Zwischenzug I was talking about- you better hope he's not dead by now..."

"You son of a-"

BANG

Arthur blinked as he watched the bullet reflect off of him and inserted itself into William's shoulder.

"Agh-! How the-!?" William grimaced as he held his shoulder.

"Really? You didn't think I'd have a plan?" The older ginger snapped, silently thanking his past self for being forgetful.

William furrowed his eyebrows as he scowled at the other, "This isn't the end, Arthur Hathaway. I will have my Zwischenzug if it's the last thing I do."

'He's still on about chess...?' Arthur grumbled to himself.

Turning around, William spoke, "Lawrence is at the hospital. He might live."

Then he was gone, going back out into the pouring rain.

Arthur sighed, opting to go to the hospital despite visitation hours; he had to know if Larry was alright.

Matt wasn't expecting a phone call from his uncle that morning. Today was 'Flash Friday' at the studio, and Bing was always busy those days.

"Hello?" He answered the phone, promptly thanking Edd for the glass of milk put in front of him.

"Hey, kid... can you meet me," His uncle paused as his voice wavered, "at the hospital?"

"Why? What happened?" Matt frowned in concern.

"Uh- well..." Bing started muttering, "Larry was-"

Matt bit his lip, waiting for the answer as he ignored the group's staring.

"He was shot."