mostlyajerk | Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

There was blood in blond hair. Finally, as he knew it was. Hartley held his friend, the music drowning out everything else, the song that wouldn't stop until he stopped.

Deadshot. They had lost him at last. Hartley was crying. He didn't think he had stopped since James had finally noticed it. Would Barry run again? How often did he have to go on this circle? How often until he broke enough to end the world?

"Aww shit, he shot me."

James wasn't gone. Not this time. Not now. He was so alive. There was blood in his head because the bullet clipped his ear and there was a shot to his shoulder but he was alive. Hurt but living. And Deadshot? Man, he had no idea what Hartley did but he fell clear from the train and lost his helmet. If he survived that, he wouldn't be following. "Oh God, this really hurts. Piper? Piper, you can stop playing."

He reached out and grabbed onto Hartley. "Hartley! You can stop."

For too long a time, Hartley didn't stop. Hartley wasn't aware, not of anything other than his grief, his anger. A fight that was lost already only to be started again. He was trembling, but the tune held steady. Until he finally stopped, arms still around James and eyes squeezed shut. Still warm. He could smell his blood.

He wanted to be gone too.

"Hartley? Hartley, come on, you're scaring me. It's okay. I'm okay. I-I'm not dead. Neither are you. We won, man, we won." He reached out and grabbed onto Hartley in return, having to angle himself oddly to do so and hell, he was pretty much in his lap but fuck the no homo bullshit, Hartley was trembling in horror and he didn't know what to do. He was freaked.

He held him tight and leaned in, talking quietly into his ear. "Don't let them break you, Hartley. I'm here. I'm still here. Please don't do this, don't break. We need to stay together. Please? I can't do this on my own."

No. Hartley opened his eyes and stared at James. There wasn't a hole in his forehead. His face was still animated. He was bleeding. He wasn't dead. Was he dying? Why wasn't he dead? Hartley was losing it and he couldn't afford to. He had to stay whole, for everyone. For literally everyone. "You should be dead."

Not a reassuring thing to say, he was guessing. Hartley stared at him. "I don't want to do this any more."

"No, genius. I got shot in the fucking shoulder though. The asshole tried to get my cape and then you started to play and ... didn't stop." Which was awkward. James's hand was a little bloody as he reached up and tried to push some of Hartley's hair back. He was damp with sweat and still trembling, he had no idea what to do to make this better or what was going on. He was in so much pain but he had no time for it, he just kept holding onto Hartley.

"I know Hartley, I know. I want to go home too." James gripped him a little harder, wishing he could make this better. "I think we offed Deadshot, we'll be okay. We'll go home and hide out underground, just me and you. We need each other. Don't give up now."

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

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