Tomorrow Never Dies || c.h.

Chapter 9

Warning: very sad Calum okay he's very emotional you've been warned

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Michael helped me limp back home. I was in a rougher state than he was, all he had was a swelled up forehead. But even then it wasn't that serious.

I couldn't see out my left eye and I could a feel a cut right between my eyebrows. The second guy I fought managed to step on my ankle during the fight, but I didn't feel it until the adrenaline stopped pumping through my body.

Narcedalia was rushing around frantically, moving pillows and searching the freezer for a ice pack. We were leaving tomorrow, and I was in a terrible problem.

"I probably just twisted it, it'll be fine tomorrow. Calm down," I spoke softly towards Narcedalia. She froze in place, rethinking everything. She retrieved an ice pack from her freezer and tossed it at Michael. He put it on my eye, sitting down next to me on the couch.

I'm holding on to what I haven't got, if Luke wasn't a drive for me I might've been what those four American idiots are now in that alley. But I know I need to let go but it isn't that easy. It's like I'm a toddler wrapped around his legs and preventing him from leaving or else he's taking me with him. There was no way out of it.

"Can we go, now?" I tapped Mikey on the shoulder. He looked at me with understanding. We said our goodbyes to Narcedalia. She was one in the books. From the time I've known her she would be a great friend to have. It just depended on if you were lucky enough to meet her or not.

Michael helped me down the stairs and out of the complex, he flagged down a taxi and we were off to D.C.

~~~

D.C. wasn't all that great from what you usually hear. It was probably worse. Crowded by tourists and you constantly had to be worried of you were getting in a family photo, especially in my position.

It wasn't until we were right in front of Abe Lincoln that we got stares. I brushed it off because it could easily be the way I'm badly damaged on the outside.

The cab driver dropped us next to the White House, probably thinking we were tourists ourselves. Even though Michael requested a hotel.

We traveled fairly slow, my arm slung around Michael's shoulders as I hopped around aimlessly. We had no clue where we were going. Our bags weighed us down and to be honest, it might look like we were suicide bombers. We did have weapons, but I was never going to give that up. Ever.

It was already getting dark. By the looks of it, around 8. Michael spotted a Motel 6, trying to hurry me along. Gum got stuck on my shoe, Michael barely noticed as I watched the gum snap. He leaned me against the wall outside of the check-in office and he went inside to get a room.

I got weird looks from people passing by, one glance and they scurried off as fast as they could, looking behind them repeatedly. It was awkward. It felt weird and I didn't know what to do. Michael was fast about getting a room and helped me up the stairs and sat me on the bed in room 26.

I turned the TV on, only to be met with a picture and a drawing of me on worldwide news. "What the fuck." My eyes widened and Michael came stumbling out of the bathroom, zipping up his pants. "Michael, what is this?" My non-swollen eye was glued to the screen.

"I have no clue," he sat down next to me, just as confused as I was. The reporter was very elaborate in describing me, the photo was me. How they got it, no idea. The reason had nothing to do with knocking out the four guys. Instead, it was about the robberies. Everything was pinned on me, no mention of the others. Their theory is I created an illusion to the hostages, like there were more than there actually was. Bull shit.