Hate, Friendship, Love - five hargreeves

THREE

She hadn't gotten far in her escape when she heard gunshots going off. They were echoing through the streets and Y/n had a bad feeling as to where they were coming from.

She knew that if she hadn't seen his face again, she certainly wouldn't have felt compelled to go to the scene. She hated him and she would stand by that, but he didn't deserve to die at the terms of someone else.

His death required reason. And she had many.

Y/n sped to Gimbel Brothers (to where the noise was deafening) and slid between the door frames. The glass had been shattered and debris littered the ground. The shop was illuminated in a sinisterly dimmed electric blue while everything was coated in shadow and ebony.

She caught a glimpse of two adults, seemingly in cartoon masks, rapidly shooting rounds at him. He ducked and weaved through the clothes racks, blinking ever so often to move around faster.

Y/n slid between two coats on the rail, shielding her body from view. She covered her ears as the gunfire failed to cease and she noticed the top half of a mannequin on the floor. It was dressed in a white polka-dot blouse and had no hair.

The two people with masks were getting closer and closer, scouring each aisle for him. She sucked in a sharp breath when she saw a large foot come into view – she moved deeper between the coats.

The 'cartoon masks' shot bullets after bullets as they watched him vanish by blinking, "You see that?" a female voice spat to her partner.

"You said he was special." A male voice returned, "So now what?"

"You start over there; I'll go to the other end. Meet in the middle," the woman instructed, retreating to one side. "Shoot anything that moves."

Y/n was thinking of ways she could help without being brutally murdered. They seemed to be skilled people, ordered to eradicate him, but if she made her presence known without being properly prepared, she'd have ten bullets go through her in a second.

What had he done?

Y/n nervously waited until she had a chance to get one to the ground. Possibly the big fellow. He seemed less alert than the woman – easier to end.

He suddenly blinked back, a weaponed blade in hand as he sliced through the woman's arm, causing her to collapse. He ducked and ran through the aisles – his smaller size in comparison to them giving a huge advantage.

As the man was reloading his gun, Y/n fiercely jabbed her foot into the back of his knee, so he buckled. She leapt out of the clothes rack and launched onto his back to further bring him to the ground. He let a cry for help slip but Y/n was quick to crush his jaw into the floor, viciously stamping continuously. She heard the cracking like in his hand not half an hour before.

While her attention was drawn to where the boy was, the floored man, had sent a ripping bullet through her thigh. The blood now seeping through her leggings.

As much as she loathed the prospect of it, she needed Grace to fix her up. Perhaps she could go at two in the morning, when it was unlikely for anyone to be awake?

She didn't stutter in her fighting, and the bullet only infuriated her. She summoned fire and burnt his back and his neck, scorching.

"I'm only going to ask you this once, so you better answer truthfully," she demanded, "why are you trying to assassinate Hargreeves?" she'd lent down close to his ear, not bothered by his wincing as she'd stepped on the nerves to paralyse his lower body. The other woman was too busy fighting him to realise her partner was minutes away from death.