Chapter Twenty-Seven

Anita pulled away from the window and pressed her hands against her head whilst she paced. She muttered as she tried to think of what to do.

Maria was still looking out the window, surprised Raphael was following this man. She turned to look at the pacing Anita, her eyes darting between the two situations until Raphael was out of sight. "Anita, what are you doing?"

"Thinking!" Anita waved her arms pugnaciously, dismissing Maria's worry.

Maria gulped as she sat down, watching Anita continue to pace the entire length of the house.

"Umm… uhh…" Anita clicked her ankles before she announced, "Raphael needs us." She darted to the hat stand and grabbed Raphael's fedora and coat. She wore the coat, the sleeves too long for her short arms, and held the hat under her arm. "Are you coming?"

Maria's eyes widened, "What do you plan on doing if you just run out in the heart of danger?"

"Run out into the heart of danger of course." Anita grabbed the other poker sitting by the fireplace and, pulling up the sleeves to her elbows, weighed it in her hands. She jumped when she realised she was squishing the hat.

"You don't have to go, Maria," Anita assured, "But Sam is in danger, and Raphael is putting himself in danger. I need to help them." Anita marched to the stairs and sat down, lifting the skirt of her dress to tie her laces, which sprawled on the floor like spaghetti. She tied them firmly and stomped her feet. "If you stay here, keep away from the windows."

Maria stood by the fireplace, searching for another poker. She pulled one out of its stand with a satisfying scrape of metal. "We're going together then."

Anita twirled the poker in her hand and nodded. Maria replied in kind, and went to the front door, only for Anita to press her hand against it, preventing her from opening it. Her eyes glimmered something that unnerved Maria, as Anita slowly and deliberately locked the door.

"Back door. They don't know you're here.�� Anita darted to the kitchen and out the back door, halting at the door as she quietly pulled it open. She gestured for Maria to follow.

The backyard was a small square of overgrown shrubbery and one low branch tree. While Anita and Raphael were organised and meticulous with cleanliness appearance, they weren't ones for gardening or raking leaves. This resulted in a back garden with layered wet leaves as ground, brick walls covered in streaks of moss and vines, and a rusted bench Anita believed was once white, but was now a crusty copper colour.

Anita pressed her back against the apartment wall and scanned the garden before walking around the house. A small black gate separated the front from the back. She didn't approach the gate however, she approached one of the mossy walls, two meters in height, and scratched at the moss and vines until her hands gripped the top. With impressive strength for her size, she hauled herself up and straddled the wall, ignoring the discomfort of her dress as she looked down to the neighbour's garden and over the gate.

"What is it?" Maria asked.

Anita continued biting the inside of her cheeks. "There are people out the front of the apartment waiting to see if anyone is coming out," she explained sitting with both her legs dangling over the neighbour's side of the fence. "This is the tallest wall we'll have to jump. Come on, we need to hurry." Anita disappeared over the wall.

Less elegantly, Maria managed to pull herself over the wall. As she got to the top, she saw Anita hopping over the shorter wall across the yard. Maria stumbled off the wall, she tripped on to the ground and grunted at the stinging pain in her palms. Hastily, she scooped up the poker and continued, she found it easier to hop over the fences that followed.

Anita was quick on her feet, at some points leaping over the smaller fences and continued to run without trouble. Maria wasn't one to sprint in her skirt, especially one designed for formal events, and consistently tripped on her skirt or upon impact with the ground.

Anita darted across the backyard of a smaller house, staying out of reach of a yapping dog on a thin chain, and ran down the side of the house. Maria barely dodged the small teeth of the dog as she followed, running around the side of the house without incident. Anita kneeled on the ground and peered past the front yard wall to the house the pair were just in. Two men leaned against the fencing further down the street, out of view of the apartment windows.

The little girl gulped at the sight of them; intimidating men dressed head to toe in thick black, their faces obscured by their coat collars. Nothing seemed out of place, but they filled her with a sick feeling. She hopped out onto the sidewalk and forced herself to stroll as she hid the poker out of the men's view. Maria copied, walking by Anita and mimicking her hidden poker.

The men didn't move from their place, not immediately. The two girls managed to the end of the street before the men appeared to follow them. Maria became uneasy as she made an audible gulp. Anita took a side glance as she looked up to her, slowly taking her hand. In her peripheral, she could see Raphael turn the corner of the block.

"Just do as I say," Anita said as she gave Maria's hand a squeeze, "Look me in the eye and smile."

Maria looked down to her, her eyes darted behind them. "How do you know they don't know who we are?"

"They would've run up to us already. Just try to relax. If they see your face they may recognise you," Anita hissed.

"Recognise me?"

"Oh Abella, do you promise to take me for a treat afterwards?" Anita suddenly bellowed out. Her sudden outburst startled Maria. "My favourite is chocolate," she continued as she kicked playfully along the footpath, "Although if you feel like a different sweet I don't mind. I remember once Louise got liquorish stuck in his braces. Those things were so ugly. Do you think I'll ever need dental braces?" Anita faced Maria while she spoke, playing with her teeth and pulling faces.

She gulped as she watched the faces Anita continued to pull, eventually able to compose herself as she responded, "No, Iva. Your teeth are fine," Maria assured, "And sure, you can have whatever sweet you want. Just make sure you behave."

Anita dropped her fingers and nodded, "I'm always well behaved Bell." She skipped ahead, careful to not turn her head to face the men, should they recognise her. She started to chatter about the different sweets she could choose from, eventually, she declared, "It's a no to liquorish."

Maria's laugh hadn't felt forced as Anita took her hand and they continued to stroll down the street. They turned the same street Raphael had taken, out of sight of the men for a moment.

Anita's act dropped, revealed by her ground teeth and clenched hands. "We need to get out of sight," she decided. The street was bare of people, as it had very little appeal to the partygoers of Fete de Paris, but was still decorated half-heartedly in flags and ribbons. So late in the day, however, it only made the lonely street appear emptier.

"We need to go to the next street," Anita informed as they continued down the street. Some alleyways led to the next street over. She grabbed Maria's hand tighter and instructed her to tell her they needed to go to the next street.

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Soon the men came around the corner, they walked in silence. "Come along, Iva," Maria instructed as she led Anita down a smaller road to the next street.

The men gave them a second's glance before they continued down their street following Raphael. Anita watched them walk out of sight. She jogged back to the street and peered down the lane, the men continued walking.

"What now?" Maria asked.

"We need to meet up with Raphael. Get to where they're taking them."

"How do we do that?" Maria didn't understand how they could do that on a separate street.

"The streets all connect, if we're quick we may be able to see which way they go." With that, Anita started running to the next street and disappeared around the corner, Maria scurried behind her to keep up.

*

Raphael heard Anita behind him but forced himself not to turn around. Sam and the stranger were half a street ahead of him, silently leading the way, as the other two men trailed behind him.

They don't know Maria's with me, Raphael thought with some relief, Just keep an eye on me boys. Only me.

He heard the girls' voices disappear as he turned the corner. He had taught Anita the roads of Paris since they met, he just hoped she had been paying attention to him, rather than just agreeing for the sake of making him shush.

Raphael hadn't an idea where the stranger was taking them. If it's somewhere without people, away from the festival areas. But this area isn't a festival area anyway, Raphael thought as they turned another corner, as he did he sped up his pace to catch them. And even then, there's a chance you'll run into someone anyway. What do you plan on doing? His thoughts had even started to accuse him.

He had closed the distance in a handful of strides, close enough to touch the man's cape. He made a daring reach, upon scraping the rough fabric, the man twirled around, knife still jabbing into Sam. "Ah, no, no," he said in a raspy voice, "Let's not get too cocky, thief."

Raphael grunted as he gritted his teeth, taking a few steps back in the hopes he may lessen the force on the blade. He did ever so slightly. The other men had finally caught up, each evenly spaced on the pavement, so Raphael couldn't run, and each with their arms folded on their chest.

"You call me a thief, does that make you a kidnapper?" Raphael countered as he turned his head to the side, he was attempting to see all three assailants but could only manage two at any given time.

The stranger ignored the statement as he responded with, "You know when I first heard of you I thought it would be much harder to figure out where you were." He waved the knife around lazily, his hand still gripping Sam's side, "Everyone had been scrambling around trying to unmask Paris' greatest thief, even our little friend Sam here, didn't you?" He nudged Sam, who responded with a hostile grunt, eyes planted on Raphael. "Might even say you've got a little crush on him, huh slugger?"

Sam's jaw clenched, eyes appeared to sting with tears, as they forced a hard swallow to keep from blurting something out.

"That's enough," Raphael finally said, "There's no need to drag Sam into this."

"Oh, but there is. We'd prefer it if this went as smoothly as possible, you understand?" The man lifted his head, allowing Raphael to see the ugly burn stretch across the left side of his face, red and raw. He seemed to present this proudly, despite Raphael knowing its true origin.

Raphael sighed, "What do you want?" he felt the men creep closer behind him. "Whatever it is you can have it, but only once you let Sam go."

"Aww, isn't that adorable, Sammy?" The stranger pinched Sam's cheek harshly, "Like the big brother you never had."

Sam yanked their cheek back, rubbing it to mollify the sting. "Which is it?" Sam's voice was salty, "Do I have a crush on him or is he like a big brother? You can't have both."

Their head jerked forwards from a sudden thud as the stranger backhanded Sam.

"Leave Sam alone!" Raphael's body reacted before his head could. He started to Sam, managing two steps before his arms were jerked behind him. One of the men restricted his arms, the other came around the front and punched him in the sternum, winding him. He wheezed as he attempted to pull his arms to aid his burning chest, but wasn't given the relief to do so. The man kneed him in the gut, forcing his body to lurch forwards and his feet slip out from beneath him. The other man continued to hold him up as blow after blow was given to Raphael's abdomen.

He tried hard to suppress his yells of pain but was unsuccessful. His head hung, his body retching when it wasn't being assaulted. Everything began to burn and throb with sharp spikes of pain spreading through his chest, making it harder for him to breathe. He felt his head heat up, his cheeks felt as if they were sweltering.

"Where's your zealous from last night, Phantom?" He laughed as he recounted his threat from the evening. "'No God or saviour will be able to save you if you hurt Anita. I will gladly be damned to hell for what I would do you.'" He kneeled down to Raphael lifting his chin gently with the end of the blade, "'Consider this a warning and a prayer that you're lying like I think you are, because next time there may not be a lady in the room.' That was good, I'm going to have to use that."

Raphael's chin was jerked up, forcing his body upright as the man clapped Raphael's ears. The force prompted a deafening ring that somehow blurred his vision. For what felt like many panicking minutes, he couldn't hear anything aside from the high pitch drone or see anything other than a clean yet blinding white.

Raphael couldn't feel his own body in this time either. He felt his entire existence wither away, a sickening moment of complete vulnerability.

Am I dying…?

This thought echoed in the pallor, he focused on it desperately to maintain thought, to hear something.

Raphael was lying on the ground, the bricks freezing against his cheek and through his clothes. Everything below his neck was numb with a dull pain, the cold of the pavement a welcoming sensation. When he managed shaky breaths, the pain forced his stomach to retch. He coughed, managing to lift his arms to hold himself up as he continued to wheeze.

Past the ringing, Sam called out to him, their words indistinct. Raphael managed to think; Sam sounds worried.

He lifted his head and managed a slight chuckle, "I'm fine… Sam… A little bruised up," he confessed.

Raphael managed to kneel, his upper body still leaning over and his arms wrapping around his chest to suppress the pain. He was trying not to cry, but he was forced to weep as the numbness passed and he had to endure the throbbing discomfort in his chest and stomach. He forcefully wiped his eyes in an ill-attempt to hide it.

"Ce qui se passe ici?" a woman's voice called.

Everyone looked to an older woman, round in figure with mousy hair and an apron sewed into her dress, stood outside of the candle shop which she worked in. She appeared concerned.

The stranger didn't bat an eyelid, stating immediately, "Not to worry Ma'am," he assured brushing aside his coat to reveal his belt; attached to it was the golden symbol of the Parisian Police Department. "This is a police matter. We don't wish for anyone to get involved."

The woman, however, did not speak much English but looked on concerned despite seeing the badge of the gentleman. She stared at the scene a moment longer, two men standing before a young man and a member of the police force resting a hand on a younger boy's shoulder. She spoke to Sam, "Jeune garçon, est-ce que cet homme dit vrai?"

"What is she saying?" the stranger asked through the side of his mouth.

Sam, rattled, managed to say, "She's asking if what you said is true."

Through a forced smile, the stranger with a badge said through his teeth, "You tell her all of it is true, or else her body is gonna be on you."

The threat didn't catch Sam off guard, ever since they had found them hours ago at the park they had received nothing but threats, but the calmness in the stranger's voice, the serenity such unsettling words were given, paralysed Sam's ability to speak. It wasn't until a harsh shove to the back prompted, "Ce que cet homme dit est vrai, Mademoiselle. Tout va bien." The French had been a rushed sentence, for a second Sam thought they had said the wrong thing or didn't sound convincing enough.

The woman remained standing, staring at the scene, clearly unconvinced by Sam's response.

Sam watched as the stranger scoffed, "Thought your Dad would've raised you smarter than that, kid."

He reached further under his coat, Sam seeing the gleam of a gun before blurting out. "I assure you all is well, uhh… Tout va bien, je te le promets," Sam took a step away from the stranger, stringing line after line of French to explain the man kneeling over had attempted to steal their wallet, and the police were apprehending him. Raphael, through the wince, smirked. "Il n'y a rien d'autre, Mademoiselle. Vous ne devez pas vous inquiéter. Aller avant que vous manquez festivités." Sam made a forced, but playful, gesture for her to hurry along, praying they had done enough to spare her from being shot.

Sam could see the stranger's hand resting on the hilt of the gun, his grip tightening the longer the woman lingered.

She eventually caved in, farewelling the group to cross the streets and disappear between some buildings. "Merde…" Sam muttered, a wave of sickness overwhelming them.

"Good job, Sammy," the stranger slapped Sam on the back, unable to withstand they stumbled forwards, only to be pulled back. He looked to his men, "Get the ring."

Raphael felt weak. When a weight pressed against his back he was unable to endure it and collapsed back to the ground with a grunt. He tried to plant his hands on the ground to get up, but one arm was swept behind his back and the other was pinned as he felt a man kneel on his back.

He gritted his teeth, trying and failing to lift his sore body, as someone gripped his ringed hand behind his back, further pushing him into the ground. Raphael hissed, pressing his forehead into the brick to keep from yelling out, once even slamming his nose to distract him from the searing burn radiating from his shoulder.

"Augh!" Raphael started cursing in multiple languages, his legs violently kicking as he tried to pull his arm free. The man holding his arm was attempting to twist the ring off the finger, but it wouldn't budge, further hurting Raphael.

"What's the hold-up?" the man asked repeatedly catching Sam who wriggled from his grip and attempted to run to Raphael, continually failing.

"The ring won't come off, sir."

Raphael called out in pain as he continued to try and turn the ring.

"That's obviously not working!" he snapped as he struggled again, "Oww!"

"Stop," the man demanded calmly.

Both the grunts released Raphael, who laid on the ground panting through his teeth. The man kneeled, forcing Sam to kneel with him as he held the back of their head.

"Let me put it simply for you, thief," he informed, "If I had my way, you would hand over the ring willingly and without fuss, or we'd chop off your finger." He pushed Sam, forcing them to stumble to the ground. The other two men quickly restrained them. Sam struggled but was soon immobilised. "But I didn't bring my correct knife. My employer wouldn't appreciate blood on his artefact."

Raphael managed to kneel, massaging his hand as he hung his head, still panting.

"So, I'm going to resort to threats, as that's what I do best," he informed, he showed off his gun and presented it to Raphael, fondly tracing some of its features as he spoke. "Here's what I propose; you give me the ring since we can't seem to get it off you, or I shoot little Sam here."

Raphael still didn't lift his head, drops of sweat dripped onto the pavement.

"I'll give you a second to mull it over," he informed standing and folding his arms.

Raphael could see Sam out of the corner of his eye. If he had to describe it, he'd say Sam looked more annoyed then frightened now, angrily exasperated even.

It hurt, but Raphael laughed.

The pain quickly subsided and laughing became easier. It became wholehearted and masked the sudden pain that ached in his midsection as he straightened, his head tilting to the sky as he finished his laugh. "Detective Leroy, I presume?"

Silence met his question, but Raphael continued. "Anita told me how over the top you were with your threats. At first, I thought it was just her childish over-exaggeration," Raphael confessed still smiling, "But no. She sold you short, my good man. You're almost laughable!"

Past the burn and trench coat black, Detective Leroy boomed. "What?"

"How's the face though? A little warm? Does it still sting when you got overpowered by an eighteen-year-old?" Raphael mocked.

"You little feral!" the detective grabbed Raphael by the shirt and lifted him off the ground. The detective was taller than Raphael expected.

"Yes. I'm the feral, coming from the American who can't speak a word of French and attacked children in Notre Dame herself," Raphael spat, "You're a disgrace to the badge you hide behind." His words were followed by being violently thrown back, his legs unable to catch himself. He fell on his backside.

"Phantom…" Sam warned, "Don't overdo it."

Raphael offered a weak wave of dismissal as he sat up.

"Your awfully cocky for a boy with nothing to barter," Detective Leroy hissed taking out his gun. It clicked before he was able to use it, aiming it at Sam, who offered a grunt as the gun pressed against their temple. "Give us that ring, or I'll paint the pavement red."

Raphael scoffed through his nose, "You're so full of it."

Detective Leroy chuckled, firing the gun inches from Sam's head, even the men winced at the sound. Sam released a high pitch yelp. "I'm not playing, thief. Give us the ring, now!"

All quips left Raphael as he looked to the ring then back to Sam, who ground their teeth as they looked to the ground, too frightened to look at the gun or Raphael. It wasn't a question of whether Raphael was going to give them the ring, more if he could.

He rubbed his hands together, attempting to twist the ring off his finger more tenderly. But like the men who tried to pry it from him, the ring wasn't giving, it felt like it had fused with his digit.

"Don't test me!" the detective roared, the end of his gun pressed against Sam's temple. They didn't react, but their cheeks continued to flush in irritation, eyes glared at the ground.

Raphael winced in pain as he continued to loosen the ring.

"I'm trying!" he snapped, "But it won't move!" His finger was turning white from being stretched, at one point he believed he would break his finger. He stopped and pressed it against his thigh.

The detective pulled away from Sam and attempted to pull it off Raphael; the ring wouldn't budge.

"What have you done to it?" he susurrated as he let Raphael go.

Raphael didn't reply as he examined his finger. Just on sight, the ring looked loose on his hand, but whenever he made a move to remove it, he could feel it tighten.

"Okay, I've had enough of this." Detective Leroy's knife re-emerged.

Raphael's eyes widened as he started kicking away from the detective.

"Oof!" One of the men holding Sam stumbled to the floor holding his head.

In the blink of an eye, Sam elbowed the other man in the nose, the sudden strike forcing him to release their arm. In the same motion, Sam grabbed his head and threw it to the ground. They rose and started kicking at the man's stomach out of pure fury, repeating several foul words in French.

Maria's eyes widened as she stared at the man she had struck. "Oh, my goodness…"

Detective Leroy turned to see his grunts on the floor, Sam and Maria standing over them. "You're gonna regret that girl-" He stumbled backwards as Anita struck him with her poker, too short and small to knock him over. She gripped the poker as she maintained her stance, clearly frightened.

The detective cursed loudly, bending over to aid the burn she had hit. He straightened, teeth gritted as he recognised her.

"You little brat!" He aimed the pistol at her, but before he could fire she whacked his wrists, sending the firearm onto the road. In the same movement, she slashed at his stomach, striking his knees to send him to her height and backhanded him with the poker.

He didn't lose consciousness from the assault, Raphael even impressed she had managed to cause any harm at all. The detective groaned as he leaned on the pavement. Still holding her weapon, she scooped up his fedora and coat to rush over to him.

"Raphael…" her voice was fragile at seeing him in such a state. He smirked, lifting his hand to rest it on her shoulder.

"I'm okay," he assured, but he hadn't even convinced himself. It hurt to breathe but he needed to wheeze, his hand was throbbing, and his vision was speckled. He grunted as he pressed a hand to his eyes, rubbing them. He could hear Sam's angry grunts as they continued attacking the men who had tailed them. He smirked, recalling the times Sam had threatened him with some of their 'self-defence' tactics. This was the first time he had witnessed it.

"You're hurt," Anita reminded holding out the hat to him.

He nodded, grimacing as he took the hat and managed to fit his arms through his coat. He winced as he attempted to stand, leaning heavily on Anita to stand. "Yes, I am. But I'll be fine, but we need to get out of here."

"Back home?"

He shook his head, "I don't think so, Ann."

"Oh…" She frowned.

"Where do you want to go then?" Maria asked leaving Sam to continue kicking the two men.

Raphael looked past her to Sam, "Sam, I think you killed them," he called sarcastically.

Sam grunted, "I'm too small to kill them."

He smirked, dropping his head to chuckle. Anita complained about her sudden weight gain. They chuckled as Raphael apologised and took back some of his weight.

The ringing in his ears started to lessen, it allowed him to hear a strange hollow click as if something was being picked up. He looked to Detective Leroy, who crawled over to his gun and snatched it up. He rolled onto his back and pointed it at Maria.

Raphael's eyes widened, pushing off Anita to knock her over and launch himself at Maria. Unable to take his sudden weight, Maria stumbled back on the pavement.

One and all held their breath, a panic filling everyone but the detective, who smiled at his success as Raphael shielded Maria and they both collapsed to the ground. Neither moved. Anita found her breath but felt it hitch, believing they had both been shot. But Raphael groaned, lifting himself off a stunned Maria and rolling onto his back. Through gritted teeth, he sat up, pressing a hand to his aching torso. His wheezing caused his body to shake as he tried not to cry in shock.

The detective got to his feet, gun still in hand, as he approached Raphael. He met his glare with his own as the detective aimed the gun at Raphael's head.

"Last warning," he announced looking to all the kids, "Give me the ring," he looked down to Maria, noticing the pendent and the same symbol, "And the pendant now."

He moved his aim from Raphael to Maria to Anita. "Nothing that happens here can be pinned on me. So, comply."

Raphael, despite his weakened state, bashed the detective's shin with the poker, now in his hands, and forced himself to stand quickly to crash tackle the man. Raphael knew he couldn't overpower the detective, his main concern was focused on the gun, which fired twice whilst aimed to the sky.

Sam clutched Raphael's poker and approached the scuffling pair with caution, readying to swing. They struck the detective's knee, forcing him to stumble against Raphael, who managed to disarm him, allowing himself to retreat. Sam followed up their strike with other well-placed hits, forcing the man to his knees, it allowed them to kick him over and stand on his stomach, swiping away his attempts to push them off.

"Stay down! Unlike you, I don't tell you what I want to do to you," Sam hissed, pressing the pointed end of the poker against his throat. "Do not tempt me."

Raphael held the gun in his hand, his other holding his aching side, as he examined it. The pistol felt foreign in his hand, yet strangely natural resting there, artificially designed to feel comfortable. He gently placed it on the ground, wincing from having to lean over to do it. Anita rushed over to him, throwing herself against his front and sobbing. "I thought you got shot!" she wept.

Raphael endured the pain Anita caused, suddenly feeling very weak as he rested his hand on her back. "Can you get my hat please?" he requested.

Anita sniffed and nodded, pulling away from him and picking up the fedora, it fell off his head during the scuffle. Maria had gotten up, appearing rattled. She approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her voice seemed restricted, she wanted to thank him, to hug him, to kiss him, to express her gratitude as she realised she could've been shot. Blatantly, unmistakeably shot.

Still panting, he offered a smile and a nod, unable to speak himself. He swallowed hard as Anita passed him his hat. His smile became brighter as he went to place it on his head, but a torturous jolt of pain was sent up his side, unlike the previous assault it was unbearable and momentarily paralysed him. His fingers seized, and he dropped the hat, soon his body falling with it. He couldn't suppress his yells of pain, both hands clasping the side of his ribs.

"Raphael!" Anita knelt before him. Raphael tried to hide what was wrong with him, but he watched her frightened eyes travel down to his hands. Looking down himself, his white shirt was stained with a growling circle of red. He couldn't hide this from her. His face was twisted into a fit of pain as he struggled to breathe until his vision became blurry and he felt the world tip on its side before going dark.

*

Anita watched Raphael crumple to the ground, unable to catch him. "Raphael? Raphael!" She pushed aside his coat and lifted his skirt, a deep gash against his side. It was relentless.

Sam pushed Anita aside and pressed their hands against the wound. "He needs a doctor! A hospital!" Anita watched the blood tinge Sam's hands as they kept the pressure. Raphael became incoherent, barely managing to mumble something as he weakly tried to push Sam away.

Maria stayed on her feet, pressing her hands to her head and externally freaking out. Her face grew pale as her eyes seemed unable to blink. Anita tried to hold back her tears as she leaned over Raphael, attempting to keep his attention, but he seemed so far away.

"Try and get him to stand," Maria instructed, suddenly lucid to take charge. "We'll take him to the church, they'll be able to help him there."

Sam lifted Raphael's arm over their shoulder and managed to lift him off the ground, Maria took his other arm and managed to withstand the rest of his weight. He balanced on his feet, his head lolling forwards as the two managed to walk down the street.

Anita gripped the rim of Raphael's hat, hugging it tightly as she got to her feet to follow. She froze mid-step, remembering Detective Leroy as he groaned on the ground. She scrambled to the gun left on the ground and pointed it at him, the barrel trembling erratically as she said, "Don't… don't follow us." She ground her teeth, wiping her tears from her cheek, "I won't hesitate to shoot you."

The detective growled as Anita backed away from him, making it a few meters before turning and running after Raphael.

She held the gun by her side as she followed. The streets became darker as the evening started to blanket the city. She noticed they weren't heading back to the apartment. They weaved their way through smaller streets of Paris, somehow avoiding the crowds of people Anita could hear celebrating the last night of Fete de Paris.

Every few meters, Raphael would suddenly grow aware, a spike of panic followed by a grunt of pain before going limp again, seemingly complacent with wherever they were leading him.

Anita continued stumbling behind them, occasionally seeing droplets of blood trailing behind Raphael. Her chest felt tight as familiar anxiety gripped her, her heart drummed in her chest as she recalled the poor guard who was murdered in front of her. She started sobbing at the thought Raphael may die.

Sam attempted failed veins of comfort, promising he was going to be okay and to make sure his hat was safe.

Anita didn't believe a word of it.

Her mind went to the worse possible outcomes, traumatising herself as they approached the gates of the church. Sister Wendy's church.

At the gates, Anita froze her toes inches from entering the grounds. Her heated panic replaced by frozen terror, her hammering heart replaced by a sickening pain as if it had stopped.

Even Sam halted, jerking Raphael's body with Maria attempting to go forwards. "Are you sure this place can help him?" Sam sounded uncertain.

Maria nodded, "They'll help him."

Sam looked over their shoulder to Anita. She looked on frightened, clearly torn between following and staying outside the gates of the church.

Never go on the grounds of this church, he had told her, I can't protect you if you go in there. Once you go in, they won't let you come out.

Anita couldn't feel her extremities; her fingers and toes became tingly. Not the pins and needles tingles, where one flexes them and eventually it fades, but an itch that spread from her fingertips up her arms and into her torso, slowly restricting her ability to move and breathe.

Sam didn't seem convinced but had little choice as they approached the front door of the church.

Looking out the window however must've been one of the nuns, as before anyone could touch the door, a small swarm of them rushed out of the church, expressing their worry, at first, to Maria, only to see the severity of Raphael's wounds.

"My goodness!" many exclaimed.

"Can you help him?" Maria pleaded, pushing away any hands that attempted to aid her.

"We'll certainly try, dearie," an older nun with worried wrinkles replied as some younger nuns took Raphael's weight.

A familiar face, Sister Wendy, saw Anita standing in the centre of the gate. Seeing Sister Wendy caused her to hyperventilate, her attempts to move met with trembles.

"Oh, Anita!" Sister Wendy and Sister Ellen rushed over to her, kneeled to her size and checked her over, concerned. "You're pale as a ghost!"

"You poor darling, come here." Sister Wendy took Anita's arm.

She was unable to fight against it, the nun took the fedora from her hand and jumped when Sister Ellen noticed the gun in her other hand. "Anita!"

She yelped as she jumped away from them, the gun automatically raised at them. The nuns were shocked, jumping away from her in terror as they stared at the shaking gun.

"Anita, what are you doing?"

Anita forgot how to speak, her lips managed to move but she couldn't create sound. She made broken syllables, attempting to explain the gun, all while it remained aimed at the Sisters.

Sam's voice broke her out of her inability to speak. "Anita, Raphael needs you," they said falling on one knee and attempting to appear as unintimidating at possible. "She's in shock, Sisters. Raphael was shot." Sam's words seemed distant, but the mention of Raphael prompted tears. Sam focused on her, shuffling closer until they took the gun from her. Anita didn't fight the effort to hold onto it, Sam soon possessing the weapon, only to place it on the ground gently.

Looking at Sam, Anita realised they too seemed frightened. Their calm eyes seemed to relax Anita enough to breathe properly.

"Raphael is going to be fine," Sam's voice was fragile, "But don't freak out. We can't freak out."

Anita hiccupped her breathing while nodding, she wiped her eyes to keep from sobbing. She felt Sam embrace her. She released a loud sob and tightened her arms around their shoulders, "I don't want him to die!" she wailed.

She felt Sam tense up around her, yet responded with, "He won't die."