Who: Kate Bishop (Hawkeye) and Frank Hardy When: Today, September 15 Where: Convenience Store What: A robbery?? Seriously? And then Kate gets shot. Rating/Warnings: Medium?/None - TW for a little gun violence and some cursing Status: Complete!
It’d been a while since Kate moved into Clint’s apartment, but she was getting used to it now. She’d never lived with a boyfriend before--hell, she’d never had a long term, serious boyfriend before. Even the term “boyfriend” felt strange. In her mind, he was a partner. Sometimes he was this sort of… weird extension of herself. She could anticipate what he was going to say or do, and in the Dreams they worked like a well oiled machine. In this world, it was all about passion and trust. But sometimes she needed a break. And an Icee.
So she went out wandering to find said slurpee drink. There was a convenience store not far from the complex, and Kate decided to head over there. Hopefully they had three flavors of Icee, not only two. (Cheap bastards with the smaller machines.)
The old yellow Chevy that pulled up to the convenience store was not old, but it was definitely yellow. It had first been manufactured in 1957, but that might as well have been yesterday for all the Dreams seemed to care. It was not in mint condition; it was simply a new car, complete with that new car smell that apparently had not changed in the sixty years between. It was a swell car, and Frank loved it. He also loved not having to rely on borrowing his brother’s scuzz bucket to get to work and around town.
There was still a bunch of work to be done on his latest story, so Frank had decided to stop on his way back to work for a quick snack and a drink. Even convenience store coffee would be better than the slop they had in the break room at the station. There was a couple arguing in the car beside his as he got out, but he only spared them a glance or two to make sure there was nothing untoward happening. With a shrug, Frank dismissed the pair before heading inside, intending to get the largest cup of drinkable coffee he could find.
Kate didn't have a finely tuned eye when it came to the specifics of old cars, but when she stepped past the yellow Chevy in the parking lot, she let out a low whistle. Sure, she was aware of the couple in a nearby car who were arguing, but didn't spare them more than a passing glance, really. It wasn't an obvious threat, and the car was far more interesting than the couple.
She followed a young man into the convenience store, and then scanned quickly for the slushee machine. It was against the far wall, which worked out perfectly for her. She took the long way around, perusing the chocolates and individually packaged baked goods, toying around with the idea of bringing home a Hostess Cupcake for Clint. Giving up on that flight of fancy, she rounded the end of the aisle and came across the machine. Ah, good, several flavors to choose from. Or to mix and match into one crazy tasting beverage. She grabbed a cup and set to work.
The store itself was not all that busy and Frank found himself alone amongst the various pots of coffee. He was half tempted to see if the clerk would let him just take one of the pots with him if he promised to return it on his way home. Instead, he pulled out one of the largest cups, adding sugar before filling it to the brim. At least the microwave in the break room worked just fine. He had just started filling a second cup when he spotted the man who had been arguing in the car beside him pull the hood of his sweatshirt up and over his head before walking into the store.
Immediately, Frank knew something was wrong. He could not pinpoint exactly what caused him to move behind one of the large mocha machines, but he had long ago learned to trust his instincts. Perhaps it was the way the man kept one hand awkwardly in the pocket of the hoodie, or the way he went straight to the cashier, keeping his head down as if to avoid being seen. Shock flooded his veins. Was this… a robbery in progress? He had not thought that the store was in that bad a side of town.
The man looked behind him and Frank pulled himself back into the shadow of the machine. One hand pulled out his phone, getting ready to dial 911 at the first sign of a weapon. From his hiding spot, he tried to see if anyone else in the store had noticed the man. Before Frank realized what he was doing, he had already ducked down the aisle, trying to get into a better position to help. If this was a robbery, he hoped no one ended up hurt or killed trying to play the hero. That goes for you too, Hardy. He chastised himself, even as he waited for the hooded man to turn away so that he could head to the side of the counter and into the man’s blind spot.
Kate’s cup was only about half-way full of Icee when the man in the hoodie started to yell. This felt like a normal robbery, sure, but the man in the hoodie wasn’t a normal hoodlum. He was… manic. Crazed. Kate turned at the sound of the voice, but barely made out the sound. Empty the register, Motherfucker? That’s what it sounded like. A real life robbery. Adrenaline started to pump around in her body and Kate set the cup down. She’d experienced this kind of thing in her Dreams before, but never in this world. At least, not like this.
Suddenly, a glint of metal came out of the man in the hoodie’s pocket. He was yelling it again, empty the register, Motherfucker, or I’mma blow your motherfuckin’ head off, and pointing a gun at the man behind the register. It was a little gun, though. Nothing really shit-your-pants scary.
“Whoa whoa whoa,” Kate called from across the room. It was probably the stupidest thing she could possibly do, considering the man with the gun spun around like mad to face her. She couldn’t see much under the hood, but the trembling in his hand was a little scary. Heart thundering, Kate took a couple of steps forward, hands up in a placating gesture. “Such language,” she said, eyes flickering from the gun to the hoodie, to the man behind the register, who was now busy tapping on the silent alarm.
At the sound of a woman’s voice, Frank looked out from behind the end of the aisle he was in. What in the world does she think she’s going? This was beyond trying to play hero. The man had a gun and this woman was complaining about his language? He was torn between his instincts as a reporter to sit back and record the story as it unfolded in front of him and his instincts as a good samaritan to try and help diffuse the situation before they got even further out of hand.
The woman kept advancing forward, toward the man, forcing Frank’s hand. He could not risk appearing in the guy’s line of sight, just in case his presence made the would-be-robber feel threatened enough to use the weapon in his hands.
Kate's heart was thundering now as the man with the gun turned to point it at her. She was still taking slow steps forward, hands raised in the air in a surrendering gesture.
"What the fuck are you doing?" The man with the hoodie's hand shook as he held the gun pointed at her. "I could kill you! Fucking kill you!" He said.
Kate saw the movement of the other man out of the corner of her eye, but didn't take her pupils off the gun. Her feet halted. "We can just... talk this out." She said, amazed at how calm her voice sounded when her heart was thundering so terribly.
"How about we talk about a fucking bullet in your head??" The guy in the hoodie took a step toward Kate. The good news about this movement was it meant the guy behind the counter could pull out an aluminum baseball bat.
Somewhere in the distance, sirens sounded.
The sirens seemed to trigger something in the man and the gun swung from Kate back to the man behind the counter. “Who called the fucking cops? Who the fuck told you to do that?!” The would-be robber emphasized each word with the gun tilted sideways. The guy had obviously seen too many movies. The clerk froze, too late to hide the bat. “What the fuck is that? Were you trying to hit me with that?”
“I-It’s policy-”
“Policy? I’m going to fucking kill you!” The situation was going bad fast and Frank figured it was only a matter of time before they all ended up in a hostage situation. The robber cocked the gun, making as if he were getting ready to fire, and the elder Hardy made his decision.
“Wait!” Hands up, Frank stepped out of the aisle. “Don’t shoot! I’m unarmed. I just want to help.”
The gun swung again, leaving the guy with his back to the woman this time. “You want to help me? Who the fuck are you?”
Frank noted that the gun had tilted sideways again. “Just a guy trying to get some coffee.” He let the man see him look down and study the gun. “That’s a Ruger SP101, isn’t it?”
“It’s going to be 101 bullets in your fucking head if you don’t fucking shut up.” The gunman advanced on Frank, but the reporter held his ground.
“It’s just…the Ruger SP101 has a secondary locking pin catch.” Frank moved one hand to indicate the gun, doing his best to look as nonthreatening as possible. I hope this works. “And, well, you still have the safety on.”
The guy in the hoodie was becoming more and more flustered as the others talked at him. There was sweat leaking down his temples, sitting on his brow. He pointed the gun at Kate, then at Frank, then the cashier, then swung it back around to point at Kate again.
Kate took a half step forward. “He’s right, you know.”
The guy in the hoodie shook the gun. “Shut the fuck up! You’re just trying to confuse me!”
Kate couldn’t help but wince when the gun shook. She had no idea if the other man was right about the safety, but stalling was the best tactic.
In the amount of time that the brunette had her eyes closed, the guy in the hoodie turned the gun to the side. There was a click, and the safety was unlatched.
“Seriously, dude, do you not know how to use your own damn gun?” Kate asked, angry now at this whole damn thing. She just wanted it to be over with now.
“Don’t fuck with me,” the guy in the hoodie said, narrowing his eyes at Kate. He was waving the gun around, pointing it at her, gripping the trigger angrily. “Don’t fuck with me, man, I just--I just want what’s in the fucking till. Don’t mess with--”
A loud CRACK shook the walls of the convenience store. The sound was so loud it temporarily shocked Kate into not feeling the bullet. Her body was whipped backward at the impact, and she was knocked off her feet. The next thing Kate knew she was on the ground, and there was a blinding, mind-numbing pain in her shoulder.
Red and blue flashing lights ran back and forth across the walls as three police cars pulled into the parking lot.
Frank cursed under his breath as the gunman called his bluff. It had been a risk, but one he had hoped would pay off. It just goes to show that statistics should be used as a guide, not a fact. He would not forget that particular lesson, even if he forgot everything else about today.
The gunshot was ear-splitting when it finally came, and after all that talk of safeties and not knowing how to use his weapon, the fact that it had actually fired when he had gripped the trigger seemed to be as much of a surprise to the robber as it was to the woman he had shot. The man looked shocked for a moment, turning his attention back to the gun. That moment was all Frank needed to quickly cross the short distance between him and the gunman, delivering a swift karate chop to the back of the guy’s neck that would have made his Dream self proud. The man dropped like a bag of bricks, unconscious, gun clattering to the floor from the now-slack hand.
Frank kicked the gun as far away as he could and turned to the clerk. “You, go outside - slowly! - with your hands up. Tell them to get a medic.” He didn’t spare a second glance at the robber, stepping over him to get to the woman who had bravely tried to take on the man. There was blood coming from her shoulder. Had the bullet hit her lung? Had it hit bone? God, he hoped she was okay. “Miss? Miss! Don’t worry, help is coming.”
Kate would have been totally impressed with the dude’s karate chop skills had she been fully aware of what was going on. In that moment, though, all she knew was that she’d just been fucking shot in the god damned shoulder. And it felt like her bones had shattered, her muscles ripped. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
“Okay. Okay, okay, okay,” she whimpered. It hurt. It hurt a lot, man. She’d never felt anything like it. There was a lot of blood. It wasn’t quite spurting, but it was leaking pretty fast from the wound just below her collarbone. “Can they just… hurry? Please? Fuck.”
“They’re on their way, don’t worry.” He could hear a commotion coming from outside and a second set of sirens in the distance. Kneeling beside the woman’s shoulder, Frank tried to quickly assess the damage. She was breathing just fine and he didn’t see any air bubbles popping out of the blood, but from the way it was gushing, the bullet had likely nicked some sort of major blood vessel or artery. He quickly peeled off his dress shirt, inverted it, and pressed it against the wound. It would have to do until the paramedics arrived. “What’s your name? I’m Frank, by the way. That was a brave thing you did, standing up to him like that.” Distract her. Keep her talking.
Moments later armed police burst through the door, guns up and at the ready. “POLICE! HANDS IN THE AIR!” Apparently the clerk had at least managed to convey the fact that the gunman was out cold, otherwise Frank would have bet dollars to donuts that a can of tear gas would have proceeded the tactical unit.
Frank’s hands did not move from their spot pressing against the woman’s shoulder. “I’m unarmed! The culprit is unconscious, but this woman was shot and needs medical attention!” Through the open door he spotted two paramedics and a gurney making their way toward the convenience store at a steady jog. He waited long enough to explain what he could tell of the wound to the EMTs before moving out of the way so that the two men could do their job.
Already he could feel the hand of one officer pulling him up by his arm. Frank may have been helping the injured woman, but they were not about to take any chances that the “good samaritan” was actually an accomplice or the culprit himself until all the witness’ statements could be compiled and his innocence proven. He bit back a frustrated sigh. Hopefully they would let him make two phone calls - one to his boss and one to his brother. He was not looking forward to being interrogated. Again.
“Kate,” Kate said, eyes furrowing closed at the pain in her shoulder. “I’m Kate. What happened? Where’s that fuckwad that shot me in the fucking shoulder?” She asked, but didn’t wait for a response. “Frank, I need you to do something for me. Please. Please go kick that fuckwad in the fucking nuts.” She was cursing up a storm, and would totally blame it on the pain. “Because this sucks.”
And then police were coming in. EMTs moving straight to Kate and her puddle of blood on the floor. They were trying to pull Frank away from her, but she had to make sure. “No,” Kate said, using her uninjured side to reach for him. “Frank, please. Tell them what happened?” The last thing she needed was to get in trouble for something that wasn’t her fault.
But the uniformed professionals separated them, and Kate was moved to the gurney. She cursed again as it hit a bump and jostled her shoulder. They were confident that the bullet hadn’t hit any internal organs, and they suspected no bones were broken. The bullet was still stuck in her shoulder, though.
Frank could not help but smile at Kate’s request. “I think that particular move is reserved for women.” Goodness knew he was not about to do that to a fellow male. “But don’t worry, he’s going to have a killer headache when he wakes up.” He could attest to that from his dreams.
When Kate reached out to him, Frank mistook her worry for fear. It was logical, after all. Who wouldn’t be scared to be alone and bleeding from a gunshot wound? He started pulling away from the officer, trying to get back to Kate.
“Oh no, you're not going anywhere. Keep that up and I'll have you for resisting arrest on top of attempted murder.” The officer was practically sneering. Good night! Did the man actually think Frank was responsible? The officer pulled out a set of handcuffs. I guess that answers that question!
“Officer, you can question me as much as you like later, but please, just let me go with her. At least until she goes into surgery.” Frank pleaded, noting the man pause before slapping on the first cuff. He turned, looking up and down the man for something he could use. No wedding ring. Creased shirt, no stains. Faint cologne. “Please, she's my girlfriend.”
The officer stopped short this time. “Your girlfriend?” The man sounded more than skeptical.
“Fiancée. We just got engaged last night.” Frank said quickly. Always include details when you lie. He could see the officer start to waver. “Please. I'm all she has. You can follow me there and then take me to the station.”
“Fine. But the cuffs stay on!” The officer said, finally giving in.
Frank’s hands were cuffed in front of him, but the man let him catch up to the gurney and hop into the back of the ambulance. Well, the lie had worked well enough, although he hoped that the ruse would not go any further than the man. The moment Frank was seated beside Kate, he took her hand once again in his cuffed ones. “Hey. I’m going to ride with you to the hospital. You’re going to be fine. You’ll see.”
Kate was noticing that her peripheral vision was going dark. She must be going into shock. There were so many things she wanted to explain to the officers, to the paramedics, but suddenly her mouth was dry, her lips felt crackly. She couldn’t find the words, and why did they take Frank away? This was all happening so quickly. Fucking hospitals. Fucking ambulances. She was about to fight her way off this godforsaken gurney when Frank came into the ambulance with her. Relief washed over her like a wave. That is, until she saw he was in cuffs. Suddenly, she felt more awake than ever.
“What the fuck, man?” Kate asked, wincing through the pain. One of the EMTs tried to put a mask over her face for oxygen or something, but she used her good arm to bat it away. “Why are you in cuffs?”
“It’s a long story.” Frank offered her a lopsided smile. He tried to get her to accept the EMT’s help. They knew more than he did when it came to caring for bullet wounds. “Suffice to say that until your would-be-assassin wakes up, I’m currently Suspect Number One.” There was also the clerk who had been behind the counter, but he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the man since he’d left the store. Hopefully the detectives were already questioning him about the events in question. There had been at least two security cameras that he had caught sight of while creeping between the aisles, but whether they were functioning or not was a different matter. He hoped for all their sakes that at least the one pointed at the counter was real.
“Just try and relax.” Out of the corner of his eye, Frank could see the officer that had cuffed him still watching his every move. Man alive! The man was more jaded than a sightseeing tour of Shanghai! “...Honey.” He added, belatedly. Luckily for him, the last EMT closed the doors of the ambulance, cutting off any reaction the officer might have had.
Kate wasn’t sure, through the pain and confusion and frustration, but she thought that Frank had just called her honey. She felt her eyes screwing up shut to the ache in her shoulder, and couldn’t think about that anymore. The engine started and the EMTs all settled back. One was putting pressure on Kate’s shoulder. There wasn’t a lot they could do besides stem the bleeding until they could get her to the hospital and into surgery to get the bullet out.
“Jesus, Frank,” She coughed a couple of times, though the bullet went nowhere near her lungs, “I’ll refuse to let them help me until they get you out of those cuffs.” She opened her eyes to glare at the EMT--even though it didn’t really have anything to do with him. “You don’t deserve to be in them. My getting shot was my own damn fault, not yours.”
“Don’t worry about me. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve been handcuffed.” Frank tried to joke to get her mind off of the pain. He hoped she did not insist on having him free before she went into surgery. Even if the store clerk was sorting things out right now, it would probably be at least an hour before he would be free of the restraints, and that’s only if they did not catch wind of his little white lie.
“Besides, I can’t say I’m completely blameless, either. I don’t think the guy expected the gun to go off after my bluff about the safety.” A quick look at the EMTs showed that they found the conversation amusing, but they did not particularly care as long as it did not have to do directly with taking care of Kate’s wound. “I’m sure everything will be sorted before you get out of surgery.”
Kate actually chuckled once before she winced in pain. The movement in her body made the pain in her shoulder stab. She straightened her fingers, flexing them, glad that she could still move them through the agony ripping her shoulder apart from the inside. “All right, all right.” She turned to look at him again. “Don’t. Don’t blame yourself. The only person who gets blame for the bullet in my shoulder is that fucking ass hole in the hoodie. I hope I’ll have a chance to see him again so I can kick him in the fucking nuts myself.”
“I’ll accept those terms.” Frank nodded at the EMT to start the IV once again. “As much as I hate to see a fellow male undergo such treatment, considering he shot you and got me handcuffed while I’m on a deadline, I think I can make an exception to remain in the peanut gallery.” He squeezed her hand, doing his best to let her know that he was here as well as the fact that her arm was still intact. Around him, the general consensus from the EMTs was that she was in need of a blood transfusion more than anything else.
With nothing else to pass the time, Frank idly remembered the blood-type horoscopes that he had read about in asian cultures. He himself did not subscribe to any of the astrology-type thoughts, but when something strayed into cultural significance, he made it a point to at least obtain an overview of the subject. Someone like Kate would fit type AB. Maybe he could ask one of the nurses at the hospital to see what her actual type was. “So, in an effort to make idle conversation until we get to the hospital, what brought you to that particular convenience store today?”
The EMTs got back into their work of poking and prodding at Kate. She was starting to feel even more light-headed now that her anger was burning away. And the grey around the outside of her vision started circling in like an old timey film fading out. She closed her eyes for a moment, struggling a little to remain awake. Then Frank was asking her a question and she opened her eyes again. She’d lost a lot of blood, though less than if the bullet had gone all the way through.
“I wanted a Slurpee. From the machine.” She swallowed hard, glancing at the EMTs who were doing… whatever it was they were doing. “Seems a kind of silly thing now, though.”
The driver radioed something in, and it sounded like they were close to the hospital. The ambulance slowed.
“It’s not silly. Slurpees are no laughing matter.” Frank replied seriously, although he was smiling. He looked up as the ambulance came to a stop. The police cars would likely be there soon, if they weren’t already. Time to face the music. He turned back to Kate and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and a lopsided smile. “They’re going to take you into surgery now, but I’ll see you on the other side. Hopefully without handcuffs this time.”
Kate nodded. “Okay.” She squeezed his fingers in return, then released them so the EMTs could do their work. They unloaded the gurney from the ambulance and started to wheel Kate into the hospital. One of the nurses from the ER took hold of Frank’s arm to get the whole story. Hopefully he could give them the answers they were looking for.