THIRTEEN

❛ And I never want you to hate me, even if I'm dead. ❜

ఌ

PRESENT.

"Take your belt off," Vanessa motions towards her husband's waistband weakly while one of her hands is still clamped over the blood red towel.

His brows furrow as he raises from his crouched position in front of her, "Love, I really don't think now is the time—"

She glares through her eyelashes up at him before reaching forward with her only free hand, and unbuckling his belt before sliding it from the loops and away from his waist. Not sparing him another glance, she wraps the leather around her own waist this time, making sure that it goes over the top of the towel and her wounded abdomen, keeping the towel in place.

He watches her movements carefully, admiring her as she carefully buckles the belt up once more, grunting quietly as she makes it as tight as possible.

"You sure that's going to be comfortable?" He questions, tilting his head as he notices how much her waist has been pulled in by his belt.

She shakes her head, "I don't care about being fucking comfortable. I'd like to survive."

"I would fucking like that too, actually I'd love it," He mutters, "But you in pain is something I do not bloody like."

"Are you taking the piss?" She laughs, shaking at her head at him in disbelief, "I was shot, and have a small little bullet nestled inside me, and you think I wasn't already in pain? Tan, you really should know that being shot is not pain fucking free!" She snaps, shakily attempting to stand up from the toilet seat.

Tangerine is quick to help her, one arm around her body and clutching onto her arm while one hand is curled around her own as she groans in pain. Silently, he allows her to guide him out of the bathroom and back into a train carriage, the one beside the children's bright room. He settles her down in a seat and she whispers out a small thanks before he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead.

"The blonde American cunt is staring at us," Vanessa informs him, nodding her head to the side and down the isle of the carriage.

Brows furrowing, Tangerine glances in that direction, noticing Ladybug and an unknown older man sat at a table talking to one another, but the blonde man's eyes remain on the married couple, until Tangerine meets his gaze and his eyes snap away in an instant.

"Really had hoped he would be dead by now," Tangerine sighs.

Vanessa hums in agreement, "You and me both. Now, help me walk over to them please."

"You sure?" He raises his brows, "I'm gonna smash his fucking skull in if I hear him utter a single word to you when he's the one who shot you."

Nessa laughs, it quickly morphing into a groan as her body vibrates, "I think it was a joint effort from you both," She reaches to him, curling her hand around his bicep and pulls herself from the seat.

Rolling his jaw at her words, his arm finds it's way to wrap around her waist again before the both of them begin slowly along the carriage isle towards the two chatting men.

Ladybug's eyes widen quickly when he notices the married couple advance towards him. His head shoots over to the man opposite him, "They're coming over," He hisses quietly, "Oh my god. They're gonna kill me."

The man facing him remains calm, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his walking stick resting between his legs, "I'm sure they may try."

"You seem really calm right now," Ladybug whispers, his eyes flicking between the slow couple and the old man, "I get that you're here for your son, and revenge on the White Death, and shit. But I didn't sign up to get murdered by two extremely good looking assassins!" He reaches for the man, roughly motioning his head towards the door a few metres behind them, "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

Vanessa pulls Tangerine gently to a stop when she watches as the blonde American and the older man stand from their seats and turn on their heels before hurrying through the set of doors towards the bathroom where Lemon's currently laying dead.

"Hey!" She shouts, as the door begins to slowly close behind them, "You fucking. . . shit," She hisses, releasing her husband and dropping down into the closest seat with a grunt.

As his eyebrows draw together in concern, Tangerine kneels down in front of her, his hands resting her knees and he peers up her face, noticing a tear roll down her cheek. He's quick to lift his hand and cup her cheek, rubbing the salty tear from her face.

"Why are you crying, Ness?" He says quietly, head tilted as he attempts to read her expression. Her face is flat, but more and more tears continue to fall from her red eyes, "Fuck. Please stop crying, love."

She sniffs, shifting her head slightly so his hand drops back to her knee. A small soft smile makes its way across her face as she looks away from him, trying to avoid breaking out into sobs.

"I can't believe. . . that— that I'm gonna fucking die on a bullet train," She laughs, and his face drops further at her words, but before he can protest, she's speaking again, "I always hoped I'd die of old age, or at least of doing something cool, like, I don't know, anything but this. I just never wanted to die on a mission," Her lip quivers as her gaze falls to him again, "Because I didn't want you to find I was an assassin after I was dead. That would just be double pain for you. And I never want you to hate me, even if I'm dead."

His head shakes, as his lifts both of his hands to cradle her face, holding it place so her eyes stay on his, "I'd never hate you, Ness. You and I both know that's not true. I married you for a reason. And you're not gonna fucking die."

With one of her hands still pressed against her bleeding side, she raises the other to curl it around his wrist gently, painting his skin with her blood, "You and I both know that's also not true," She breathes, "Fuck. I'm so sorry."

Tangerine grinds his jaw, trying to conceal his tears, but he fails and several fall at once from his eyes, dropping to the floor between them as he lets out a silent sob, "No, no, no." He shakes his head, "No. You're not bloody dying. Not here on this blasted train, or on a mission."

At the sight of him crying, Vanessa finally allows herself to let out a loud sob, her face jumping in his hands as he caresses her cheek gently. Not only had he lost his brother, he was now losing his wife; all in the same day.

He pulls her face forward slightly, and presses his forehead against hers. Both of them squeeze their eyes shut for a moment before gazing over at other as they both sob.

"You hear me?" He croaks, "You're not gonna die."

Her eyes soften, "Tan—"

"No," He cuts her short, his blurry eyes running all over her face and examining every detail carefully; every freckle, and scar. Everything he's always adored, "We're getting home, okay? And we're gonna fucking grow old and have a dog and kids."

She lets out a shaky breath, her eyes flowing from his face and to the side of them. Slowly, she pulls her forehead away from his and her head turns while she lets out a gasp of shock. Tangerine's eyebrows shoot up in worry and his back straightens as he looks her up and down again, checking to make sure her wound has worsened.

"Ness? What? What?" His eyes fly back up to her face, and he notices her gazing over his shoulder. His brows cinch and he slowly turns to look in that direction, a sob falling from his mouth at the sight, "Lemon?"

His brother stands beside them, blood staining his popped open white shirt, and a bullet proof vest strapped across his chest. He stands immobile, his eyes mainly glued to his sister in law before averting to his brother with happiness filling them both.

"Lemon!" Tangerine explodes, shooting up from in front of his wife before his arms wrap around his brother's body, both of them laughing with joy while Vanessa watches with a smile. As Tangerine pulls away, he knocks his knuckles on Lemon's vest, "You clever bastard. You're alive."

Laughing, Lemon finally catches onto his brother's overjoy, "Of course I am. Only thing that really effected me were this weird water drink that blonde cunt poisoned."

Vanessa beams over at him, fighting every bone in her body not to let out a groan of pain to ruin the soft moment between the brother's before her, but as another shot of pain rattles through her abdomen, she can't help but grunt quietly, immediately catching her husband's attention.

"Ness," He says quietly, rushing back down in front of her, "You need to hang in just a little longer, okay? It won't be long till we get back."

Lemon lowers his head slightly to look at the woman, and he gasps in realisation, "Nessa. Holy fucking Christ. What the hell are you doing here? Tangerine, what the fuck is she doing here?"

Tangerine leans forward, pressing a kiss on his wife's head before standing up again before his brother, "Vanessa's an assassin. When we met her that night I get shot, she was on a bloody mission too. She's been in the business longer than us, Lemon."

Eyes widening in horror, Lemon turns his head to gawk at Nessa, who shakily raises a hand to send him a wave, and that's when he notices the blood coating her skin, "She's shot," He breathes, "Shit, shit, shit. This is bad, like super duper fucking bad."

Tangerine rolls his jaw, "Thank you for your fucking input, Lemon. We hadn't figured that out yet. You're really helping."

Lemon waves him off, "Have you covered the wound with something other than your hand?"

"Yeah," Vanessa grunts from the seat between them, lifting her hands to reveal the towel, "Strapped it down with a belt for more pressure as well," She smirks up at him when his mouth falls slightly agape, "This ain't my first time being shot, Lemon."

"Course it's not," He hums, throwing his hands in the air, "Course it's bloody not. Is there owt else we don't know about you?" His hands go to his head in desperation, "I was so wrong 'bout you. You ain't no Percy."

Tangerine gawks at his brother, fighting the urge to punch him across his jaw, "My wife is fucking bleeding out, and you're on about Thomas the fucking Tank Engine!"

"I'm sorry, a'right!" Lemon yells back, "It's a comfort thing! I just can't seem to wrap my head around how she is here." He jabs a finger towards his sister in law before motioning manically at the train walls surrounding them.

"I've been an assassin since I were young, it were a source of income for me," Vanessa begins, wincing as she manoeuvres slightly in the seat, "I'm here because some random person asked me to come and murder the blonde bloke to stop him from getting the case. James was. . ." Her eyes widen in remembrance, "James! Fucking hell!"

Tangerine steps in front of her when she attempts to stand, preventing her from moving from her seat, "No. You're staying right here, keeping most of your blood inside of you 'till we get to the next stop, a'right? That twat is perfectly fine, and can wait until you don't have a hole in your side to speak to you."

Vanessa groans, not having the energy to argue as her shoulders slump once more and she reapplies pressure to her side.

Lemon bites his lip, "Tan, help me get her to the next carriage along."

"What?" Tangerine tilts his head, "Where that Ladybug geez is?" He runs his tongue over his teeth, "No. Did you not just listen to what I fucking said? We're staying here. Where she—"

"As soon as this train stops, the Black bloody Death is gonna be waiting for us!" Lemon hisses, "We might want to be surrounded by more people if you plan on keeping her alive! He's gonna have a lot of men tryna kill us! Having some allies would be nice!"

"How is that blonde cunt at all an ally?" Tangerine snarls, motioning towards the door over his brother's shoulder, "He shot Vanessa, for fucks sake."

"Oh," Lemon's face softens slightly at the information, and his head turns to Vanessa as his brows raise, "Urm, did he?"

Nessa looks up at him, her eyes flicking between the two brother's as she sighs, praying that what she's about to say doesn't fuel yet another fight, "Well, Tangerine had a finger—"

Her husband's eyes grow wide as he robotically rotates to stare at his wife in astonishment, "Vanessa, I love you, okay? You know this. But, are you trying to make me fucking feel like complete shite?"

"No!" She snaps, "I'm just telling the truth!"

Lemon waves his arms between the pair frantically, "Okay, okay. It's not important. I doubt he— they— whoever the fuck did it. . . intended to shoot you. So, Tangerine will you fucking help me get your wife to safety?"

Biting back an insult, Tangerine nods, ducking his body slightly to curl an arm around her waist while Lemon grabs her arm gently with her other hand still over her heavily guarded wound.

"Oh, well, isn't this just so cute?" She coughs as they help her ridge along the isle, earning small grunts from the two men.

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authors note.
it's been a while... sorry lmao