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The team was under intense fire, shooters aiming at them from three separate directions. Andy and Nile had gone ahead to help the victims, Booker kept the exit as clear as he could, but Nicky and Joe were in the thick of it.
Both had received wounds. Nicky had been shot in his leg and Joe had been hit in the shoulder. As Nicky lobbed a grenade at a group of soldiers, Joe noticed it.
The wound of Nicky’s leg still had not healed. It had been at least half an hour, an age in battle terms.
The grenade went off and both men jumped up, ready to kill any of the human traffickers that got in the way of Andy and Nile saving the would-be slaves. Joe pressed his gun on his shoulder and grimaced in pain – his wound hadn’t healed either.
As Joe kept the group of shooters ahead at bay, another group tried to sneak in behind them. Joe heard the familiar noise of Nicky’s sword leaving his scabbard and didn’t bother looking behind him, he knew Nicky watched his back for him.
Five, six, seven men fell to Joe’s shots as Nicky dealt with the men behind him. Through the yells of pain Joe heard a grunt from Nicky and automatically turned round in time to see Nicky kill the man that had stabbed him in the side.
The rage that filled Joe at the audacity of that cunt to stab his love burned through him. Joe was ready to burn the whole god-damned warehouse to the ground, but he settled on dispatching the third team that was still standing.
With Nicky at his side it was short work, Joe covered him as Nicky carefully picked out his targets with his sniper. Joe felt a rush of heat and pain hit his thigh but he grit his teeth and carried his work to help Nicky.
With a last shot, silence reigned. From the distance they could hear Booker take down an assailant, but nothing more. Soon the victims would be lead out by Andy and Nile, so Joe and Nicky would need to get moving. Joe reached out his hand to pull Nicky with him when he saw him properly.
Blood covered Nicky’s side, the stab had been a lot deeper than Joe expected, or hoped. A cry of pain left Joe’s throat and Nicky looked up to him, looking more curious than worried at his state.
Joe collapsed on his knees at Nicky’s side and gripping his hand as he looked at the wound, blood flowing freely. He pressed his free hand against the wound to stench the blood, but Nicky gripped his wrist as if to stop him.
“Nicolo!” Joe cried, opening his mouth to talk but Nicky shushed him with his hand on Joe’s cheek.
“It’s time, Yusuf” he said quietly, as if he lacked the energy to talk normally. His hand moved to the back of Joe’s neck and held him tightly. “My love” he whispered.
The panic Joe had been feeling slowly ebbed away, allowing him to feel his own wounds. His shoulder hadn’t healed either and the shot he took on his thigh bled without abandon. A shadow started to creep in the corners of his vision, but he tried to blink it away – Nicky was the priority.
He helped Nicky get into a more comfortable position, reclining against the wall they had been using as cover. Each of his grunts of pain hurt Joe more than his own wounds did. He collapsed next to Nicky and gripped his hand.
“I wonder what it will be like” he thought aloud.
Nicky’s fingers tightened in his. “I don’t mind whatever it is, as long as you’re there with me.”
Joe turned to look at his Nicolo, his wonderful eyes meeting his once more. Even after a millennia of looking into those same eyes, Joe still felt that jolt in his stomach. He’s mine, as I am his.
“Where you go, I go, remember?” He said, repeating those words he had said all those centuries ago when they realised they no longer wanted to kill each other, but stay together as allies.
Nicolo smiled at the memory. “How could I forget, habibi.”
Joe couldn’t look away from Nicolo, he wanted his face to be the last thing he saw in this world. “Sei stato la gioia della mia vita.”
Nicky smiled with difficulty, death tugging at his hand. “Grazie per questa vita.”
Andy was the one that found them, together as she had met them all those centuries ago, in peace at last.