Work Text:
The day James is hurt, for the first time since they started their little… thing , is a hard day for Aleks. When james walks into the warehouse, covered in blood - a majority of it belonging to him - and barely conscious, Aleks couldn’t help the blind rage that took over him. The day had been normal for Aleks, until now, cleaning his guns and knives, going on a stake out with asher and anna near the edge of town, fucking around and messing things up for Brett with Jakob and Trevor. It’s a good day, much better than the boring days spent alone in the warehouse, or stake outs alone. He’s eager to return home, with or without James, and settle down with some strong coffee and a random show playing quietly in the background. This plan is ruined when James, in all his dramatic glory, bursts through their main door and promptly collapses to the floor.
Aleks is the first to him, having been near the kitchen at the time grabbing a beer for himself and Trevor, and instantly drops his beers, hands gentle yet desperate as they lift James up with some struggle, dragging him to the small medic station Anna works out of, working him into a bed carefully while Anna works at cutting off his shirt, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, dude, who did you piss off this time?”
James’ grin is short lived, as toothy and bloody as it was, quickly turning to a wince and a broken shout when Aleks presses his hands against his chest, ribs bruised and cracked to the point of agony with each breath he takes, “S’nothin, dude,” Aleks moves his hands away with a heavy frown, checking over the rest of his body as he continues to talk, Brett finally joining them in the little room, “jus’ a scuffle, m’pretty sure they got off worse than me.”
Aleks rolls his eyes, cursing soft and pressing his hands against the stab wound on the meaty part of his abdomen to staunch the blood, Brett leaning over carefully as he speaks for Aleks, “So they’re dead, then?” Aleks looks up as Brett waves his hands away, taking over the knife wound, before continuing to check down his body with anna.
James’ words are pained, beginning to slur as he croaked a hoarse reply, “Dunno, think i got one…” his head tips back slightly, eyes blinking slow and dazed, “maybe two…”
Aleks frowns and curses as Anna moves closer to his head, clicking her fingers in James’ face and huffing, “James, focus for me. How’s your head?” James frowns and doesn't answer, closing his eyes and wincing, flinching away slightly when Anna shines a bright light in his eyes, watching his pupils.
Aleks’ hands are shaking by the time he’s cut through the left leg of James’ ratty jeans, exposing a bullet hole that’s steadily leaking blood. It’s clean through, so aleks just focuses on wrapping it in an old towel and stopping the blood. The loud shout that James lets out, muscles tensing and body stiffening up before he collapses onto the bed weakly, rattles aleks to his bones, his breath coming out shaky as he does what he can to help.
Eventually, though, Anna kicks them both out and sends for asher. Aleks understands, considering their lack of medical knowledge, but he resents her for it; he’s desperate to help James, to be there through the pain, and the thought scares him. He hasn’t felt like this before, and it’s rattling him slightly. “C’mon,” Brett’s voice is soft, his own eyes scared and his skin slightly pale, “let’s go get cleaned up.”
Aleks can only nod.
He follows brett to the kitchen area, quietly letting Brett wash up first as he stares down at his hands, the sticky blood shining a bright crimson in the light, the areas where its pooling in the creases of his palms reflecting back his own pale face. He frowns, clenching his hands to fists and watching the blood collect before dripping to the floor, brows furrowing and body tensing. Aleks turns when brett finishes, washing his hands up before tugging off his hoodie, the sleeves stained dark with james’ blood. He scrubs roughly, cleaning thoroughly under his nails and at the creases of his knuckles, silently praying for the water to finally run clear off his skin, squeezing his eyes shut and hoping, begging -
“Hey,” Brett’s voice grounds him almost immediately, firm and commanding yet soft at the same time, “he’s gonna be fine, dude. Anna knows what she's doing.”
Aleks closes his eyes, sighing out slow and deep before shutting off the faucet, nodding weak, “you’re right.” he dries his hands off messily, the paper towels scratching slightly at his skin, before walking over to the armoury area. The armoury is split off into sections, each member having their own due to everyone’s wide range of skills; aleks’ is recently finished, weapons still shining with the fresh paint job. The only weapons with any sort of wear are a pair of golden pistols (which james had called tacky when he first saw them, the asshole ), and a single hunting knife, the handle worn down slightly from years of use (the guns were a gift from Gavin, the first guns that ever belonged solely to him, that no one else ever used. The knife was given to him by Ryan, the first sign of any affection from the man when he was sixteen, a gift he still hides from gavin to this day); he picks up the pistols first, fitting them both into the waistline of his sweats easily, then grabbing the knife with its sheath and a shotgun, a gift from james that matched his own, the barrell dark grey and the handle an aged wood, shiny with laquer. He picks up the fitted body armour, hanging against the wall, before turning around and bumping straight into jakob.
The man looks slightly hesitant, his mouth a deep frown (aleks can't help but notice how unnatural it looks, too used to seeing his bright smile, and now he knows he has to do this) and his brows furrowed roughly. Eventually, he reaches a hand out, and only then does he notice the set of plastic ties in them with the small earpiece on top, he looks back up when jakob starts to talk, “make them hurt.”
Aleks frowns heavier, hesitating before taking the ties and nodding. He pats jakob’s arm, gaze firm, before slipping past him and out of the armoury, clutching the earpiece tight in his hand.
The first place he decides to go, after getting in his car, is to his own apartment. He drives there quickly, resisting the urge to run red lights and carefully parking outside his apartment building. He runs inside, skipping the elevator when he notices how many people are inside, instead taking the stairs two at a time and making it to the top floor in record time. He fumbles his key out of his pocket, fiddling with it before unlocking his door, slipping in the earpiece, “jakob?”
“Yeah, hang on.”
Aleks goes to his bedroom, abandoning his weapons on the bed with the body armour and dropping his blood-stained sweats, quickly tugging on a pair of tight jeans, gritting his teeth and struggling slightly with the belt in his rush, “you got any idea who they might be?”
There's a pause on jakob’s line, just rapid typing as aleks rips his shirt off and pulls on the body armour he carried in with him. Then he grabs a button up, the seams along the side having been let out to fit the armour under it better rather than having a slightly pleated look, and pulls it on messily, “it's not really a big crew, about twenty people, maybe twenty-five. They're spread out across the city, one base is pretty close to you, then there’s maybe two or three others, and the main place.”
“How many at the closest base?”
“Six, but there’s a couple rooms i can't see into. There's two cars, max total of eight people.”
“Unless they put people in the trunk.” aleks loops on a utility belt, sliding the two pistols into the holsters and clipping the knife on in its sheath. He carefully loops a second holster on, grabbing a box of shotgun shells from his bedside table and loading the gun.
“Would they put their own people in the trunks of their cars?”
“They were dumb enough to fuck with us,” he cranks the gun, frowning heavy, “so probably.”
There’s a snort on the other side of the earpiece, “dude, that was so fucking cringe-”
“No way, dude, that was cool! I'm so fucking badass-”
“It was too cliche- ”
“Oh my god , jakob.”
After no small amount of bickering, aleks manages to finish gearing up. He takes the elevator this time, if only to draw less attention, and makes his way to his car outside. Aleks rubs at his face carefully, eyes lidded and tired as he locks the car once he's inside. He hesitates slightly, hands gripping the wheel, before entering the first address into his gps.
“You good to go?” aleks can hear the underlying question that jakob doesn't ask- can you do this alone?
“I'll be fine. Let's just get this over with.” he pulls into gear, carefully driving and following the directions on his gps. He hesitates, the leather of the steering wheel squeaking slightly as he grips it tighter, before sighing out, “is he okay?”
Jakob sighs, “i haven't heard anything yet, he’s still with anna and asher.”
Aleks nods quietly, despite jakob not being able to see, and parks up a few blocks down from the house. He psyches himself up a little, rolling his shoulders and huffing slightly, before getting out of the car.
“Four on the bottom floor; two in the kitchen, one in the living room and one in the garage. Two upstairs from what i can see, one in the bedroom and one guarding that room. Might be someone important.”
Aleks nods with a small mutter of thanks before walking up to the house; he doesn't bother with a fast and quiet approach, walking in through the back door and into the garage with his shotgun in hand. He blows the man’s brains out before he can react, watching the messy splatter and listening to the startled shouts in the kitchen.
“Two coming towards you, one has a knife, the other has a pistol.”
Aleks stands near the door, catching the first man through the door by surprise with a blast to the side, sending him to the floor in agony. The second man is luckier, only skimmed barely by a few pellets, and he manages to get a punch in on aleks. His fist glances off of aleks’ body armour, sending him stumbling slightly with the momentum, before aleks takes out a pistol and brings him close, arm looped around his neck to hold him in a tight choke hold, gun pressed to the base of his spine, his voice a low snarl “how many people are upstairs?”
“I-i don't know- two- maybe three-”
Aleks doesn't hesitate, emptying three rounds into the man before letting him fall with a dull thud to the concrete floor, head slamming against the ground with a sickly crack. He loads his shotgun as he walks through into the kitchen area, the fourth person stood in the kitchen with wide eyes, his hands shaking as he points the pistol at aleks. He frowns, eyes lidded and sharp.
“Put your gun down.”
Aleks complies slow, noticing the knife block on its side on the counter. He grips the counter tight, pulling himself up slow and exaggerated before quickly wrapping his fingers around the handle of the smallest serrated knife; he manages to throw it at the man, piercing his shoulder with a loud shout, but not before he can fire a round and hit aleks square in the chest.
The pain is… intense , for lack of a better word. Aleks stumbles back weakly, the crumpled bullet remaining in his body armour, and brings a hand up to his chest. A seemingly endless pain pulses through his chest, but the adrenaline assists aleks in picking his gun back up and making his way over to the other man, shooting him twice in the chest with his pistol. He takes a moment after that, leaning against the counter with a shaky pant, but he isn't given much peace before a bullet whistles past his head, glancing off the counter and hitting the wall. He ducks down carefully, removing the clip from his gun and checking before pressing it back in, huffing.
“Theres two people at the top of the stairs, i still can't see if there’s anyone else. Be careful.”
Aleks sighs out, nodding slow, “you think i could hit them both from here?”
“Honestly? No. unless you pull some Wanted shit you’re not gonna be able to hit them.”
Aleks laughs, nodding as he carefully moves around to a different area of the kitchen, “who’s Wesley and who’s Fox?”
“Oh my god, i can't believe you actually remember the fucking characters.”
“It was a good movie!” aleks sits up and shoots, smirking to himself, “i think i'm Fox.”
“No way, james or gavin is fuckin’ Fox. You’re Wesley.”
Aleks groans, rolling his eyes, “fine, whatever. But brett’s definitely Sloane,” aleks goes back down once he’s taken out one of the men, reloading his gun, “instead of cloth he's got a boner for his fuckin’ plants, man. You have to agree with me here.”
“I’m gonna have to watch the movie again, now. Fuck you, man. I've already got trevor on my dick about movies, now i've gotta watch your weird hitman movie.”
Aleks laughs, and it’s almost like things are normal again, like he’s back at the warehouse with trevor and jakob, and james is watching fondly but as if he could kill them at a moment’s notice. The reality of the situation hits him like a speeding train, though, and he quickly stops laughing, instead leaning up and shooting at the last man on the staircase. Once he’s down, aleks makes his way up slowly, frowning soft and checking through the rooms quietly.
He hasn't totally been expecting the woman in the last room, considering how silent the house was, but the adrenaline that’s pumping through him means that when she goes for a surprise attack, jumping out from her hiding spot behind the door, aleks manages to hear her movement and turns sharply, swinging the shotgun and clubbing her over the head with it and knocking her out cold.
“Overkill.”
“Whatever,” the previously joking tone is gone from aleks’ voice now; he leans down and uses the plastic zip ties on her arms, tying them tight before hoisting her up and over his shoulder, “you know if anyone can pick her up from the nearest safehouse?”
“I’ll see if we can spare a newbie, you gonna interrogate her?”
“Interrogation, torture, it’s all the same.”
Jakob lets out a sigh before typing, aleks can imagine the way he’s rolling his eyes, “abbie’s on her way there.” aleks nods and carries the woman down to his car, dumping her on the backseat and getting in the driver’s seat before carefully driving away. Once he’s left the woman at the safehouse, practically dropped on the floor next to the couch, he makes his way to the car.
“Next place?” his phone buzzes nearly immediately, and aleks doesn't hesitate before putting the address in.
“How’s your chest?”
“Hurts like fuck, thanks for reminding me.” aleks drives along carefully, humming soft.
“You should probably avoid getting hurt, james’ll get suspicious.”
At the reminder of james, aleks slumps down slightly in his seat, sighing tiredly, “just two more places after this, i’ll be fine. And it’s not like i'm fuckin’ bleeding out anyway. Don't worry about it.”
Jakob sighs again, “sure, whatever.”
“Sigh any more and the others are gonna fuckin run out of air, inconsiderate,” aleks smirks, parking a few blocks away again, “how many people?”
“Gimme a minute,” aleks nods and listens to the quiet clack clack of jakob’s keyboard, cleaning his guns carefully and wiping the blood off the handle of his shotgun, “one downstairs in the living room, two upstairs; one in the bath and one in the bedroom. Do this quiet and we might be able to do it pretty fast.”
Aleks nods and gets out carefully, holstering his guns in favour of his knife this time. He crouch-walks into the living room quietly, leaning up behind the back of the couch and quickly dragging his knife along the man’s throat, pressing his other hand against the man’s mouth to keep his loud gurgling muffled, blood flooding over both of aleks’ hands. Once he’s dead, eyes dull and the shine leaving his eyes, aleks makes his way upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. He goes to the bedroom first, managing to take the man out much faster with a quick stab due to the better angle. On the way to the bathroom, he wipes his knife clean and pulls out his shotgun instead.
“You gonna Kurt Cobain her?”
“Too soon,” aleks mutters, standing and leaning against the door frame before kicking the door open a single bullet glancing his arm before he shoots her in the chest, blood gushing into the bath and turning the colour to a sickly red.
“Too soon? Man, its been, like, twenty years. Move on already, emo.”
Aleks just laughs, taking the gun dangling from the woman’s hand and taking the ammo from it, “whatever, man. I grew up with that band, you’re, like, ten. Fuck off.”
“I'm twenty -”
“Same thing.”
“-and i know bad emo music when i hear it. ”
“Yeah, and i'm sure you know good music when you hear it too,” aleks walks downstairs, ignoring the growing bloodstain on his shirt, “by the way, tell me when your career as a soundcloud rapper takes off so i can put in the good word with james and have you fired.”
“If ‘put in the good word’ means ‘stick your dick in him’ i'm sure you've done it enough-” aleks removes the earpiece, blushing bright red and huffing as he turns it off. He puts in the third address when it arrives, accompanied by the endearing message u lov me really ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . He doesn't bother replying, instead driving to the next base.
It’s across the city from where aleks is now, nearly a two hour drive- three, if you count the rush hour traffic- so aleks distracts himself with music. Eventually, he gets a little lost in his thoughts, ranging from how am i gonna know how many people there are to why am i doing this so desperately for him? The second thought stumps aleks, causing him to lose focus and nearly rear end some soccer-mom van. He apologises as he passes, shrinking slightly under the woman’s steely gaze, before driving away.
Has this become more than sleeping around?
Aleks chews his lip before deciding it’s a question for another day, parking near the house and quickly checking over himself. There’s a deep gash on his arm from where the bullet glanced him, and the steady throbbing under his body armour tells him more than he needs to know. Otherwise, it’s mainly scratches from plaster and the dull ache in his right foot from kicking in the door earlier.
Aleks doesn't focus too much on the injuries, quickly wrapping his arm with some spare gauze in the glovebox, before getting out of the car and walking up to the house. He scouts around carefully, peeking through windows and listening close. He works out that there’s four people, he can see two downstairs, and one went upstairs earlier with the promise to check on jackson . Aleks doesn't need any more information other than that, so he goes in quietly after picking the lock, sneaking in through the hallway.
He’s pretty successful, until his phone rings.
There’s a split second of peace between the three of them, in that moment. The two men look over with raised brows before seeing aleks and instantly frowning, aleks doesn't hesitate to leap over the island in the kitchen and hide behind it, cursing and answering his phone.
“Yes? Hello?”
“Wow, rude, i guess i wont tell you how james is.” brett’s reply is the only respite he gets in this moment, relief seemingly weighting his bones.
“No, dude, i'm sorry, i forgot to put my phone on silent and just got fuckin’ caught.” there’s a hiss of sympathy over the phone, and aleks smirks weakly before sitting up and shooting at the men over the counter.
“Sorry man, just thought you’d want an update.”
“Yeah, ‘course i do. How is he?”
“He’s a little out of it,” brett’s voice rings out over the phone, his voice tinny and distant compared to the earpiece, “he doesn't know about your little… vengeance mission, yet. We’re gonna wait until he’s recovered to tell him, or he’s just gonna hurt himself.”
Aleks nods carefully, kneeling down behind the kitchen counter for cover as he reloads his pistols, phone held to his ear against his shoulder, “yeah, okay, thats fine. Is he able to talk?” brett hums a little, and aleks listens to the quiet footsteps as he sits up and shoots at the people behind the couch. He hears a small aleks wants to talk to you, dude as the phone is moved away from brett, before shuffling echoes in his ear.
“‘Leks..?”
Aleks grins small and relieved, sighing tiredly before leaning back down behind cover, assault rifle rounds piercing the wall behind his cover and causing plaster to rain down on him. One of the bullets manages to pierce a pipe, causing water to spew out and splatter all over the floor, “hey, bud, how’re you doing?”
James huffs over the line, and aleks smiles fondly, if not a little tired, “tired, hurty… i thought you were in the warehouse today…”
Aleks curses when a bullet hits the granite counter near his head, leaning back up and shooting. One of his bullets manages to hit a man on his way down, going in and out his skull with a messy spray of viscera and blood against the wall behind him, “yeah, i was, but i'm out now.”
“What’s that sound?”
Aleks pauses a little, scouring his brain for a quick lie, “i just knocked some pans over, i'm in my kitchen.” he leans up and shoots the last man, quickly standing up and going to their bodies. He checks them over, taking spare ammo from one and a half empty pack of gum from the other (who passes up free gum? And besides, after this he’ll definitely need it).
“What’re you making?”
“Soup,” this lie comes a little easier, considering how he’d seen a can in the kitchen with the can opener still hanging off of it. He carefully makes his way up the staircase, peeking down both ends of the hall.
“Soup?”
“Yeah, buddy,” aleks quickly shoots the man in the first room, frowning and closing the door with a grimace when he notices the headphones on and the way his laptop is balanced precariously on his lap, “you like soup, right?”
James lets out a noncommittal hum, and aleks grins as he imagines him tilting his head back and closing his eyes, “yeah, s’real good. ‘Specially minestrone…”
Aleks raises a brow, opening the next door and checking around the empty space, “really? I always took you for a chicken noodle guy, maybe tomato.”
“Minestrone is basically tomato, right? Just with… bits.”
He laughs soft, going back out into the hall and checking the last room; there’s one man, in the shower in the ensuite, and he takes his time to scope the room before putting his guns away, “i guess so, man, like, croutons ‘n’ shit. Ive seen it with these weird little pasta bits in before, though.”
“Yeah, but the best one is with, like… fresh cut vegetables. Cut up celery and onion…”
Aleks hums soft and nods, opening the bathroom door slowly. The shower is empty, steam filling the room, and the punch that connects squarely with his face disorients him badly. His phone clatters to the floor as he struggles to right himself, feet slipping on the wet floor. The second punch is expected, and aleks manages to catch the fist before it collides with his throat, twisting the man’s arm and kicking him away before rushing to put james on speaker, “sorry, dude, dropped my phone, you still good?”
“Yeah, ‘leks… it sounds like that soup is getting the better of you…”
The confusion on the other man’s face gives aleks the opening he needs. He grabs him by the hair, his hand nearly slipping straight out due to how slick it is, before slamming his face into the wall, cracking his nose, “nah, don't worry about it. I’ve got it under control. You like cabbage in your minestrone?”
James makes a soft blech sound before speaking, “no, that’s gross. Do you? That’s, like, a russian thing, right? Borcsh?”
Aleks takes one of the ties from his pocket, quickly wrapping the man’s wrists. He picks up his phone on the way out, dragging the man behind him, “i mean, i guess? But that doesn't have cabbage in it. Shie does, but i don't really like cabbage.”
“What soup do you like?”
“I like Okroshka ,” he dumps the man in the trunk of his car, slamming it shut after, “cold soup.”
“Did your mom make that for you? In russia?”
Aleks pauses, frowning heavy as he turns and leans his back against the car, “does your mom make you soup?” aleks is all too glad for james’ drugged-up state, eyes closing as he dodges the question.
“Hell yeah, she,” there’s a small hiss on the other side of the phone, aleks recognises it as pain, “she made me this real good soup, called it her magic soup when i was a kid, but i know it’s this, uh… its kinda like beef soup? Lots’a meat and potato, s’good with bread…”
Aleks nods slow with a sigh, eyes lidded, “get some rest, james. I want you nice and healed up so you can take my bomb-ass soup later.”
James hums quietly and passes the phone off with a quiet here, brett and aleks can hear the shuffling of bed sheets as he listens to brett walk out, “really? Soup?”
“Well, it was the first thing i saw,” aleks rolls his eyes, “but now i guess i gotta make soup when i get back.” brett hums, hanging up after telling aleks to be careful and getting a dismissive sigh in return. He just gets into the car, slipping his earpiece back in and starting up the car, “you ready to be nice now, jakob?”
“Fuck you, i bet your soup is shit.” jakob’s answer is immediate, and, despite the words, the grin echoes in his words and aleks can't help but laugh.
“Don't worry, it is, i haven’t made soup since… forever ago.” aleks drives along carefully, entering the last address.
“I'm gonna have to try the soup you bring in, ill spit it in your face if it’s bad. Your fuckin’ russian shark soup, too, what the fuck is that about?”
“ Okroshka ? where the fuck does shark come from?”
“Yeah, sounds gross. Distinctly slavic and sharky. What’s in it? Poison?”
Aleks laughs, rolling his eyes and rubbing his chin, “vegetables, potatoes, egg, spices, and you serve it with this beer called golden kvas as a dressing but i had a buddy that would put it in the soup-”
“So it is poison!”
“Basically, and you eat it cold during the summer with dill pickles and sour cream.” aleks grins fondly, turning onto a freeway, “you can put in meat too, and sugar.”
“Do you sing the communist anthem while you eat it? ”
“I don't think that’s a thing, dude.” he checks both ways and waits for the green before driving forwards.
Things get a little hazy after that.
The first thing aleks realises when he comes to is that there’s a car headlight shining through the driver’s side window. The second thing is that his car, his new car, has just been brutally t-boned, the paint work is ruined and the body is barely salvageable. The third thing is jakob is practically screaming in his ear, but the sound is milky and muffled compared to the loud ringing in his ears; he drags himself out of the car with a broken cough, gritting his teeth and cursing before drawing his pistols, the crowd that had gathered around the accident site quickly dispersing with loud screams.
“-leks! Aleks!” jakob’s voice rings out a little clearer now, and it causes aleks to wince heavy, head throbbing dully, “holy fucking shit, aleks, oh my god, how are you not fuckin’ dead? Jesus christ, get somewhere safe, i'm sending brett-”
“Don't,” aleks croaks, standing fully and wincing at the pain in his side, leg bleeding slow, “don't worry, ive got this. But that ‘no injury’ dealio is certainly out the fuckin’ window.”
Jakob’s laugh is hoarse and shaky, “y-yeah, okay, fuck… there’s five men in the car, all of the guys from the last base. We’re running home base, man.”
“Have you ever even played baseball?” aleks smirks weak, crouching behind his now-ruined car, “you’re so lanky, you look more like a runner.”
“The fuck is a runner? I just played video games, man.”
Aleks laughs slightly, rolling his eyes before leaning up and shooting at the closest man. He goes down quickly, a clean bullet between the eyes, and aleks nods to himself. He crouches back down, shifting slightly and wincing before leaning up over his cover and shooting again. He hits the woman’s arm, but she doesn't go down, instead giving covering fire. Aleks picks up his shotgun when the third person gets close enough, the blast ruining their left leg at close range to the point of no return, sending the man crashing to the ground with a howl. Aleks puts him out of his misery with a pistol bullet to the head.
He turns back to the woman, shooting at her until she shifts too much, a bullet glancing the top of her head when she bobs up out of cover slightly. It seems to be enough, since it sends her to the ground with a loud thud.
“There’s one guy coming up on your other side, the other is hiding behind their car.”
Aleks nods, carefully moving to the other end of his car. He briefly remembers the man in his trunk and winces in sympathy before shooting at the closest man and taking him down. It’s finally one on one, and aleks can't help but be relieved. The pain is dulled slightly by the adrenaline, but its not magic, and every movement sends flares of pain up his left side. Aleks draws his knife, closing his eyes and sighing before rushing up to the other car.
The man hiding there had been expecting that, aleks realises as his knife is knocked from his hand and his body is slammed against the side of the car. Aleks’ yell of pain is cut off by the hand gripping his neck, and for once aleks is able to get a good look at one of the men he’s been killing.
Hes average height, barely taller than james, with dull grey eyes and deep acne scarring along his jaw. There’s a small smattering of stubble along his jaw, and his hair is pretty long. Aleks uses that to his advantage, leaning up and tugging at it hard enough to rip some out. The howl the man releases jars aleks slightly, ears ringing and brain rattling as he’s dropped to the floor. He sees his pistol, new scratches on the side from how it fell to the floor, and reaches for it rapidly, shooting the man faster than he can shout.
It’s silent, now, and aleks hates it. He stays laid on the floor, one hand gripping his pistol and the other on his chest, heart racing and head pounding. He can feel his pulse all throughout his body, every ache and pain amped up to a hundred.
“Aleks? You good?”
“Order postmates,” he mutters, voice hoarse, “i can't make soup right now. Minestrone.”
Jakob laughs, but agrees. Aleks stands slow and careful, wincing and picking up his scattered weapons before going over to the trunk of his car. When he opens it, regret fills his body. The man that was previously inside is… barely a man. Aleks shuts the trunk.
Aleks puts his weapons away carefully, strapping each one onto his body, before walking along slowly to the nearest street sign. There’s a wave of relief that floods his body when he realises he’s only a few blocks from the warehouse, so he decides to walk there.
“What’s the prognosis? You gonna need major work done?”
Aleks thinks about it, looking down at himself, before shaking his head, “nah, it’s not too bad. Mostly bruises, nothin’s broken. I really need a fuckin’ shower, though.”
Jakob laughs, “i'm sure we can arrange that for you.”
By the time aleks reaches the warehouse, james is still fast asleep. He’s patched up quickly by anna while jakob regails the entire story with wide eyes, gesticulating wildly with a bright smile. Aleks manages to break away from the group, scouring the kitchen before finding the can of soup and heating it up, taking the bowl to james and setting it on his bedside table, sitting down carefully next to his bed. He regrets not being able to make real soup for him, but what he doesn't know wont hurt him.