Chapter Text
Everything spun, the air was too humid, the place was too cold and the half a dozen tranquilizer darts in him weren’t helping. When this contract was finished he would threaten the boss for a raise. His thoughts are interrupted as he hears the sound of gunfire rip through the air. Shit.
The contract was supposed to be quick. Get in, get the artifact and get the hell out, but of course Ashle had to get in the way. Movement drew his attention from his wounds, movement that turned out to be his teammates chasing Ashle. That asshole always got in their way. James could deal with the anomalous entities and the killers protecting their artifacts, but the fact that Ashle of all people would try to get in his team’s way. It irks him.
A solid, rectangular object is shoved into his hands. He barely looks up at Scarlett, handing him a medkit. They nod to each other, a silent exchange between the two ex’s. He begins to heal himself as she goes back into the fray. The boss will have their heads (or more accurately, their paycheck) if they fail to get the artifact. He winces, pulling out the darts he was ignoring for far too. Every time he sees Ashle, he always goes off alone to distract them from fighting the others on his team (He can’t bring himself to admit he wants to kill the guy).
He’s about halfway done when he notices someone on his team crawling towards him. It’s one of the new recruits. He can see the trail of blood from where the recruit came from. That’s a little quirk about this job, they go through people like tissue paper. The veteran contractee has been here so long he can’t bring himself to learn the names of the new recruits. He adjusts his suit and tie before handing the half empty medkit to his coworker. Looking down at the kid’s face, he’s only a few years older than the kid.
“The boss hires you twerps too young…get a better job than this kid…” He speaks more to himself than the groaning mess on the floor. “You’ll survive…just stay away from the action and let Scarlett care for you.”
He stretches, the last of the darts popping out of his back (he didn’t even know those were there). The water below the oil refinery is rushing, tearing through anything that falls in. Bullets whiz past him, missing their mark as he looks up. Scarlett is fighting Ashle in hand-to-hand combat. The girl would be winning if it weren’t for the pistol Ashle is peppering her with. James’ heart drops as he looks at his past-lover fighting this thief (nevermind the fact the whole team steals artifacts) in a pond of her blood. Ashle’s yelp of surprise cuts through the air as James tackles him, causing Ashle’s suitcase to open and drop the artifact they were both trying to steal. Scarlett doesn’t let the opportunity pass as she grabs the giant golden teapot. James doesn’t look back as he pummels Ashle to the ground. He doesn’t look back as he feels the whole refinery shake. He doesn’t look back as he feels a bullet get lodged in his throat. He doesn’t look back as he feels the booming voice cut over the loudspeaker. He doesn’t look back as the ceiling-
*Crunch*
He feels it before he can comprehend it. He knows the artifact powers the whole refinery. He knows some of the hallways collapse under the weight of what’s above them. He doesn’t look back as the ceiling of the hallway falls on him and Ashle. Neither of them have the time to think before they’re flattened into paste.
That’s why he’s so surprised when he wakes up under a pile of…what seems to be dirt? His adrenaline spiked again (didn’t he just go through his adrenaline?) as he claws his way out of the ground. Before long he feels the air on his hand as he pulls himself out of the…grave? He rolls over, the adrenaline finally dying down as he coughs up dirt and rubble. He tries to rack his head over what happened before he feels something in his throat. He coughs, he coughs and he coughs…until he finally coughs up a bullet. It’s not big, it’s actually pretty small. It wouldn’t cause too much damage if treated quickly (which Scarlett always makes sure of) but he recognizes it. He’s spent so much time hating Ashle, he knows the exact size of the bullets he uses. To be frank, Ashle barely uses his actual gun, opting to use the tranquilizer gun more (the Immobilizer as he calls it). James only recognizes the bullets because 75% of the time they’ve fought, he’s forced the well-armed scamp to use the gun.
That’s when it all comes crashing back, the oil refinery, the hallway. His hands rush to his throat, where a nice bullet-shaped scar is left. He barely has time to reconcile this as he hears voices from behind him. As he looks up he finds himself staring at a log cabin, and in front of it, a mish-mash group of robloxians. He surveys the group, unsure of their intentions. Some of them have the same grey skintone as him, while others are yellow. That’s not even talking about the pumpkin and TV head, kind of reminds him of his team. His eyes lock onto one of the two in front, a soldier in tactical gear. From the hair and face he can tell they’re a guest. He’s known a few guests in his time, and with the tactical gear with that, he trusts this man the most.
“So…I’m betting by the looks,” He adjusts his suit, making sure the tie is straight. “You all know where I am.” His eyes meet the weary eyes of the guest. “So, What’s your na-”
He’s about to offer his hand to shake the guest’s before he’s caught by surprise by rumbling from below him as he notices a grave next to the one he was in. He moves into the group, standing next to the man in the…are those swimming trunks? He brushes off that fact as he readies his fists along with the guest. He sees a hand slowly claw its way out of the ground, just like his own unintuitive entrance. That’s when he sees the name on the tombstone and his heart drops. Of course they would be here. They were there at the refinery. They were crushed alongside him.
Rage fills his vision as he sees the man pull out of the grave, the man who put that bullet in him.
Ashle.