((I am so late updating today! I'm so sorry I didn't have it finished until now.))
"Talk about what...."
Mark asks softly, his eyes travelling down to the green haired man who released small pained groans now and then, and resisting the urge to run forward, as every little movement made Cry's finger squeeze the trigger ever so slightly.
"About you... about what you did..."
The masked man responds simply, his voice threatening as he steps over the Irish man like he's nothing. Mark's eyes don't leave the gun, as he takes a couple steps backward, each stepped matched by Cry. Mark narrows his eyes, thinking before it hits him, the only reason Cry might want to kill him.
"Is... is this about Felix?"
Mark questions quietly, his eyes finally travelling up from the gun and to the masked eyes of the man in front of him, a bit of sympathy shining in his own. Cry releases a soft snarl, his grip tightening on the gun in his hand.
"It is... it's about Felix... and how you fucking killed him!"
Cry raises his voice, from what Mark knew about Cry he didn't seem to yell often, and when he did, it made the red haired man flinch ever so slightly.
"Cry... It was self defense.... He was going to kill Jack... he was going to kill me."
Mark defends, his eyes once again travelling to the gun as he thinks. He had to keep the man talking, and figure out away to disarm him. His brown eyes shoot a glance at Jack, who still hadn't seemed to regain full consciousness. He would be no help, so Mark kept the man talking.
"You have to understand, Felix was a danger to others.... He had to di-"
Mark continues quietly, only to be cut off as the man yells again.
"No he didn't!"
Cry booms, his voice dripping with venom, with hatred for the man in front of him.
"Felix was a good man... If he was going to kill Jack or you... he had good reason...."
The masked man continues, the anger in his voice fading slightly, and being replaced with sadness, almost making Mark pity the man.
"Good reason? I thought Jack was your friend... You would've let Felix just kill him!?"
Mark growls, though he wanted to keep a calm tone of voice towards the man, he couldn't help himself. Friends were supposed to have each others backs, but Cry would've been fine with letting the Irish man die. Cry simply shrugs.
"Who needs friends... Felix was all I needed... but you stole him from me...."
Cry retorts with a soft snarl. Mark could feel the man's eyes glaring daggers at him, though his eyes were covered by the white mask. Mark sucks in a breath, seeing no clear ways of disarming the man, and realizing he might just have to go for it.
"And Felix was going to take Jack from me...."
Mark responds, taking a couple small steps forward.
"And I couldn't let him do that... No one is taking my Jack away from me..."
Mark finishes quietly, quickly lunging forward and reaching for the gun. Stopping when a bang rings out and pain resonates from his stomach. Mark looks down, red seeping through his T-shirt around his stomach, and pain stinging that area as he falls to his knees. His hand gripping the wound tightly, trying to stop the blood.
"Shit shit shit...."
Mark mutters under his breath falling forward slightly and catching himself on his free hand. His torso burned as Cry simply laughs softly, Mark slowly looking up at the man just as the barrel of the gun presses against his forehead. The red haired man unable to do anything, barely able to move as the blood spreads around his wounded stomach, even breathing had become a difficult task.
"Sorry Fischbach.... Time to say goodbye."
Mark clenches his eyes shut, prepared for the shot, prepared for his time to finally come.
"Wait..."
An Irish accented voice pleads softly from behind. Mark opens his eyes and looks over as Jack rolls onto his stomach, soon propping himself up on his hands and knees. His eyes open and close in quick blinks as he tries to focus his blurred vision.
"Damn... That hurt..."
He mutters as he slowly stands, wobbling slightly on his feet but catching himself, his blue eyes looking over to the two men.
"Now I know how you feel..."
Jack finishes with a soft smile, trying to make light of the grim situation. Jack's small smile drops as he looks at the masked man, a bit of hurt shining in his eyes.
"Cry... Why are you doing this... You were one person I thought I could trust no matter what..."
Jack sighs softly, his voice breaking ever so slightly, genuinely hurt. Cry sucks in a breath, seeming to feel bad before his aura of anger returns and he shakes his head.
"You can't trust anyone.... Not anymore...."
Cry responds in a quiet mutter, looking to Mark once again and squeezing the trigger preparing to shoot. Before he can pull the trigger he is on the floor, tackled to the ground by none other than the green haired man, who frankly looked as though he was going to pass out, though he forced himself to keep moving, refusing to let Mark die.
The two men wrestle for the gun, rolling on the floor, and accidentally shooting off a few bullets, though neither of them were hit throughout the struggle.
Soon enough the men pull off of each other, Jack managing to have grabbed the gun, the barrel aimed directly at the masked man's head, and his finger on the trigger, though hesitant to pull it.
"Jack... You wouldn't shoot me... We're friends..."
Cry states gently, his voice containing a soft smile to it. Completely different from the tone it held not long ago. Jack seems to hesitate, the gun lowering slightly as he watches the man. This was one of his closest friends, someone he trusted with his life, Cry had helped him so much, he was like a brother. Then again, he had tried to kill Mark, but could Jack shoot him.
Noticing the Irish man's hesitance Cry lunges forward grabbing for the gun before shots ring out, about four in total, each hitting, and the masked man falling to the ground in a bloody mess, not moving, not breathing. The green haired man looks down at the masked man, his eyes saddened as the gun drops from his hand, hitting the ground with a loud clang.
Soon enough Jack shakes his head and turns to the red haired man, who now laid fully on the floor, holding his wound and threatening to pass out. Jack runs over, forcing his thoughts away from the once friend he had shot and kneels down next to the half-Korean man, pulling his head gently into his lap and panicking slightly, trying to stop the bleeding but to no avail, the crimson liquid pouring out and staining both his hands and the floor.
"Sean...."
The red haired man gurgles softly, his vision blurred and unconsciousness threatening to overtake him. Jack shakes his head, his ocean blue eyes meeting Mark's chocolate brown ones, his blue orbs brimming with tears.
"Don't speak Mark... You're going to be fine... everything is going to be fine."
Jack rambles softly, his voice shaky and unsure. Mark doesn't speak again, simply watching the panicked Irish man, feeling bad. Jack had just shot someone close to him, and instead of getting time to cope, instead he had to care for an injured man.
Soon enough Jack's eyes lift from Mark and go towards the doorway, where footsteps can be heard by Mark. He tries to move his head to follow the Irish man's gaze, but winces as pain shoots through his body, and simply looks at the green haired man's face, watching his eyes swim with emotions. Anger, sadness, worry, but even a bit of relief danced in his ocean blue eyes as he looks at whatever was at the door.
After a few seconds, as Mark's vision blackens around the edges, he hears a familiar British accent, the voice making Jack's mouth curl up into a snarl with the one sentence.
"Sean Mcloughlin.... You're under arrest..."