Frank's eyes bulge in his skull and it's as clear as daylight that he's stunned by my reply. I would be lying if I said that I didn't surprise myself in the process.

"If she's still alive and comes after me, maybe me having a gun will scare her into hesitation of firing at me," I hurriedly correct myself. 

There's no way I'd be able to shoot at her. A warning shot into a nearby object perhaps, but to put a humans being's life at risk simply to save your own skin, that's ridiculous. No single mortal being has greater value than the next.

"Peggy I'm not giving you a fucking gun. If you need a weapon use a syringe." he suggests, rather mockingly.

I open my mouth, knowing a dispute will follow once I voice my opinion on the situation at hand, but with a click of a button, or a snap of a finger, I decide against it. Sometimes it's better to remain quiet than to yap about like a whining dog left alone for too many hours. There are times and places for everything in this world and right now it's just not that.

"If you don't- don't mind, cou- could you two hurry u-up please." Sheriff Porter interrupts our growing quarrel and I decide to comply.

With the medical kit in one hand, I use my free hand to grab under Leonard's arm to aid him to his feet. Frank catches on and grabs the other side of his father. After discovering that my upper body strength is not as significant as I thought it was, I place the kit on the ground to free both hands.

Both Frank and I swing Leonard's arms across our shoulders as we lift him. I then make sure to keep my left arm wrapped around his waist as my right-hand remains pressed on his dressed wound to prevent him from bleeding out another mass of blood. There would be no time to redress his wounds now.

Once we reach the car, Frank opens the backseat door and after great difficulty, we finally manage to place Leonard inside. "Dad hang on okay. You'll be fine in no time," he reassures his father. Leonard grunts in pain and mumbles profanities beneath his breath.

"Fuck, he really needs to get to a hospital." Frank hisses as he slams the car door shut. 

"Then take him. I can manage with Ste-"

"No, I'm not leaving you to go find Steven by yourself. I told you-"

"I know! But for crying out loud Frank, we're running out of time here!"

I feel like ripping my hair out at this point. Our back and forth bickering is, once again, getting us absolutely nowhere. Frank runs a hand through his hair in frustration and it's clear that his thoughts are quite conflicted at this point.

Just as I am about to throw my hands up in the air as vexation seeps through my veins, our surroundings suddenly dawns on me as reality kicks in.

"Could we possibly be anymore dense!" I yell out in anger and Frank's quick to question my outburst. "We're standing right next to the Sheriff's station." I point out and realisation soon dawns upon him aswell. "Quick, use your dad's radio, get someone to come and assist him. Call in an ambulance, just do what you have to. I'll go ahead in the mean time. Steven's waited long enough. Come find us as soon as you're done."

Without waiting for a reply or his attempt to change my mind, I spin on my heels and take off running. I stop for a brief moment to pick up the kit before sprinting off in the direction of the abandoned storage room.

I can only pray that Steven's heart still beats. No matter how infuriated I become with him at times, he has been the only one to help me survive and stay sane during this job for so long. I remember my first day like it was yesterday.

I was petrified.

Nothing could have prepared me for what my crime-less eyes witnessed that day. But Steven, as callous and insensitive as he may be, helped me through it all. What bewitched him to care for me in the first place still baffles me. At least I can say that somewhere in that charcoal heart of his lies a splinter of a red glow. A glow of kindness, compassion, and surprisingly love if only he'd allow it to grow. But I know that's a long shot.

Now that I think about it, I've been a great fool to allow over 20 minutes to pass since we arrived here. Steven should have been my priority from the very start. After all, I'm going to need him in a few months when they take Vivian away from me. It never gets easier and I feel that Vivian will be the toughest lost yet. I've grown quite fond of her.

She's a rather intriguing spirit. A cliche-ridden diamond in the rough. She radiates confidence and bravery and the worst part of it all...

None of it matters.

They'll do absolutely anything to strip her of her identity, to break her so far that she doesn't even recognize herself. Her backbone will be recklessly clawed apart from her and there'll be no-one to stop it from happening.

She doesn't deserve this life.

She doesn't deserve what's coming her way.

"Steven? Steven where are you?" I yell out as I push the rusty steel door open. A toxic musty stench invades my nostrils as soon as I step inside the decaying storage room. It's repulsive, to say the least.

I push the door open as wide as possible and place a few nearby bricks in front of it to prevent it from slamming shut. It'll be a living nightmare to get trapped inside of here. I've barely made it a few meters in and my eyes are already beginning to tear up.

"Steven? If you can hear me, make any sound you possibly can. Utter a cry, kick a box or, well I don't know just try something," I state breaking the deafening silence while walking further into the room. Piles of boxes and unrecognizable items are stacked on shelves either side of me. Some are spilled across the floor, which doesn't make mobility any easier.

I kick a few boxes and items out of my way while climbing over others. I aim to turn into the next aisle, except the same change in atmosphere is felt like the one I experienced earlier at the car and it sends shivers down my spine. It cannot possibly be the wind as there are no windows at the back and these shelves certainly block any fresh air from spiraling through. This time I'm certain that I am not alone. 

The irksome presence is lurking awfully close to me, right behind me to be precise.

Without giving it a second thought, I spin around as fast as humanly possible and raise my hand to knock the individual over the head with the medical kit before pushing them down to the ground. 

Self-defense; one of the many things Steven taught me.

"Oh shit! I am so sorry!" I quickly apologize as soon as I recognized the world-renowned bonehead sprawled across the floor.

Talk about the beast and it appears.

"I had no idea it was you," I instinctively kneel beside him, "Why were you sneaking up on me?" No one told him to stalk behind me like that. He simply grunts and hisses in pain as a reply and for now, I take what I can get. "Since you're conscious, let's get you out of here. I can barely see a thing and the smell of dead rodents is not exactly appetizing." 

I rise him to his feet only for his right leg to give way, luckily I catch him in time to prevent him from smashing to the ground. As poorly lit as the room is, I do a quick scan over his body to locate where the bullet wounds are in order to know exactly what it is I'm dealing with. 

"Arm. Shoulder. Inner- inner thigh," Steven murmurs after catching on to what I am doing. 

I nod and begin aiding him down the aisle.

"I thought you were that psychotic lieutenant. That's- That's why I snuck up on you." Steven says, hissing every now and then from the pain as I balance his body onto mine.

"Why would you think that? I called your name out countless times asking where you were."

"No, it's just-"

"Besides, didn't you take care of her? That's certainly what your message implied."

Before he gets a chance to reply my foot knocks into something. We barely cover the distance of over three meters down the aisle and a dilemma already surfaces. 

"Hold onto this shelf right here. I'm going to move these boxes out of the way." I instruct Steven and he obeys. After making sure he's safely secured upright against the rack of shelves I aim to move these damn boxes out of our way.

Where on earth is Frank?... I can't help but wonder.

"Alright that's do-"

"Don't fucking move!"

With the last box in my hands, I slowly raise my head only to see a gun being pointed at me. I feel like a deer caught in headlights. Frozen solid, all functionality fails to exist and I suddenly forget how to breathe.

"Peggy watch out!" Steven yells from behind me and for some reason he sounds closer than he should be. He certainly knows how to move around without being heard which is strange for someone who's been shot. Thrice.

So she must be what all this fuss is about... I think to myself as I stare at the female silhouette before me.

"I said don't move!"

"But I'm not-" I begin to protest, but soon realize that she's referring to Steven behind me. Her grip on the gun becomes awfully tighter and panic builds up in my chest. I've never been comfortable around weapons and I highly doubt it'll begin anytime soon.

"Donotfuckingmove!"

"But I'm-"

"No wait!"

Like a scene straight from a movie, it all exploded into one huge mess. There are two things I didn't anticipate to happen right here, right now. The cutthroat gunshot that's currently ringing throughout my ears.

And the pain that comes with it...