Daniel watched, and sighed. He turned his head away as the boy began to emit a gurgling sound. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to go through with that part of the hit himself. He looked over at Alana; his eyes emitting his emotions and thoughts: the woman was a bitch. He slicked a hand through his hair and shook his head a few times. Almost disappointed. He adjusted his grip on his own blade yet again - to hear the door swing open.

The main target. Only he had a gun. Daniel instinctively dove behind the bed - apparently, Alana didn't have quite the same impulse, as she caught a bullet and made some pained grunting sounds. Daniel tossed the knife upwards; catching it with the tips of his fingers, and whipping around the side of the bed. He hurled it at the man - and caught him in the neck, sending him tumbling back out of the room in a bloody mess.

Then he took the switchblade out again, and looked down at Alana. Standard protocol on these jobs: your partner gets hit, you take them out. He crouched, and pushed the blade to her throat. But he stopped. Couldn't do it. Couldn't slit her throat the way he had just watched her slit the throat of an innocent little boy. He sighed loudly, and pocketed the knife. What would he do, then? Leave her there? He rubbed his temples and sighed.

Alana couldn't even see Daniel take the man out, her vision dizzyly and her nose filled with the scent of her own blood. The acute pain in her chest was worse then before, she gasped for a bit of air and only ended up grunting in pain clenching her teeth and closing her eyes. Where was Daniel...?

She managed to let out a shocked squeak feeling the knife pinch the skin of her throat as her chest began to show blood through her shirt and her hand that had held there stained with blood. She grunted and groaned, " Ughn... kill me now.." she whimpered as she began slumping towards the ground slowly.

Daniel shook his head. He shoved the knife back into his pocket, and crouched - grabbing Alana. Even he wasn't sure what he was doing, but he spoke up: "I'm not letting you die today, too." he vowed grimly, and wrapped one arm around her legs, the other near her shoulders. He lifted her as best he could - he was fairly tall, and strong, for his age; so he managed to do so quite efficiently.

His legs struggled a bit under the weight, but he managed to drag her away from the bloodbath of a room and out towards the living room. Here, he dropped her on the rug and sighed. "Fuck," he hissed. "Fuck. Fuck." he began to look around - for smaller knives, for something to help him.

Alana was starting to have that fade look in her eyes, she was dazing somewhere else as she weakly gripped on to Daniel's jacket, her breathing slowling every couple times that she inhaled painfully. " Ughn... don't bother..." she winced. " I deserve this.." she whispered, mainly talking to herself.

The bullet was lodged in her chest nestled in her tissues and surrounded by blood, the more she moved the harder it was to find. Also the harder it was to breathe and hence do anything else. Alana began to grow weak, yet it wasn't as pained anymore as she began to breathe even slower.

Daniel shook his head, and walked off towards the kitchen. He grabbed a few knives; each time his hands were full he dropped them next to Alana. Then he had to sprint through the house - it was fairly large - to try and find a bathroom. When he managed to get to one; it was large and modern. Mirrors all over. He popped open the medical cabinet, and, rather than read anything, dumped all of the contents into his arms, before dropping them next to Alana.

His last object was a bit more difficult to find: something for her to bite down on. He settled on a rather thick cutting board from the kitchen, and brought it to her lips as soon as he crouched beside her. "Bite this." he demanded. "And, uh... try to pass out." With that, he grabbed one of the knives, and looked at the blood creating dark stains on her black sweater. He fiddled with the knife a few times; filling the shoes of the 'impromptu amateur surgeon' that he was, and finally set it down to the fabric.

Alana let her hands drop to her side closing her eyes, her chest slowly rising with each breath, until he came by again, she could barely open her eyes. She kept tensing up each time; she felt sharp amounts of pain, yet she only bled more because of the tissues pressing together. When Daniel came, she parted her lips just enough and bit down weakly.

When he cut her fabric there was already smudged puddles forming along her chest of deep scarlet blood. The bullet hole was above her cleavage towards her right side, right underneath her collarbone and above her cleavage right at that spot.

"Okay, uh..." he rubbed his eyelid a single time, staring down. "... fuck." he repeated yet again. He got up and dashed off to the kitchen, this time grabbing paper towels and a dishrag. He ran back to Alana, and used the combination of them to wipe away as much of the blood as he could - though he was sure she would still bleed quickly, and look at the wound. With no real definition of the word 'sterile', he took one of the blades and gingerly pressed it to the opening of the cut.

He tried to pry with his fingers to get as good a few as he could, until finally resigning and wedging the blade in a bit more deftly - he had excellent control over knives, after years upon years of work as an assassin; but he had almost no experience with removing bullets with them. He wagged and twisted the blade a bit, eyes trained on the wound; trying to find the bullet.

Alana made a pained grunt when his hands ran near her wound, she balled her hand up in a fist, hands still bloody, the smell was overwhelming her. As he prodded her wound she let the tension go her breathing slow the bullet stayed in one place and eventually she had to let her head rest back, the pain too much, she grew unconcious, her jaw loose the cutting board falling to the side.

The room was dead quiet as he worked, the knives clinging together were the only sound, Alana's breathing was soundless now, being knocked out cold.

Daniel's eyes widened when the blood finally resurfaced in the garbled mess of blood and flesh. He pried it out, and then grabbed it; dropping it to ground. He leaned back, and exhaled loudly. He'd got the bullet out. He wasn't sure what else he could do - until he saw the bandages from the medicine cabinet. He grabbed them in one hand, and took Alana's arm in the other - dragging her to the kitchen; and leaving a thin line of blood trailing across the tiles.

He put some incredibly hot water on, and, went about cleaning - and then bandaging - the wound. He ended up using an excessive amount of bandages; but, he figured it was better than using too few.

When she was finally cleaned, he went at a slightly more sane pace to the man's bedroom, and grabbed a massive; oversized jacket. Carried it down to Alana, and took away the tattered and bloodstained sweater. He chuckled a bit: he was sure she looked a lot nicer topless when she wasn't healing off a recent gunshot wound. Very recent. Either way, he awkwardly managed to wrap the jacket around her, and zip it up. He hoisted her in his arms, and moved for the door: suddenly becoming aware that someone might have called the cops when they heard the gunshot. He hailed down a cab, which was hard to do with an unconscious woman in his arms.

He merely explained that she "had a little too much to drink", and, receiving a distrustful stare from the cabbie, made it all the way to the hotel. Here, he had to explain to everyone that she had drank too much, as well, and brought her into his room. He dumped her onto the bed; and walked into the bathroom: to shower, to clean up, to change, and to hope that she would actually wake up - not go the other way.

A couple of hours later, Alana's bright eyes opened the slightest bit to feel the room spin causing her head to tilt one way and the other. When everything stopped moving she could see where she was, lifting her head and seeing the hotel room, shocked her. She should be dead... she slipped up and should have been killed along with the little boy.

Confusion filled her head, as she attempted to stand up, going half way before she gasped at the sharp pain in her chest and brought her arm to press lightly against it and grimaced, " Damn..." she muttered, as it all slowly came back to her. Her eyes widened, Daniel. Where was he...?!

Supporting her body up with one arm, she looked down seeing the large jacket around her and frowned, who had gotten her this? Unzipping her jacket slowly feeling a ruh of colder air tickle her bare skin she looked at the bandage and around the hotel again, her chest a bit messy with dry blood from way before.

" Daniel...?" her voice whispered, as she leaned against the hotel's pillows to help support her up, taking her hair down from the pony tail to relax her hair and head, letting her hair fall over her shoulders, as she realized what really happend. She fucked up.

Daniel had finished showering and changing into a hoodie and some jeans, and was sitting on an armchair by the time Alana started to stir. He smiled a bit to himself: maybe his wannabe little operation had actually gone over successfully. He was watching TV - some old Western - and drinking some ice water when she mumbled his name. He glanced over to see she'd unzipped the jacket. She probably figured out what had happened by then.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, hey." he said, direction some attention in his general area, and wincing as he realized that he would never be able to work with the Organization again. He couldn't even really explain why he'd helped the woman.

Alana let her hand gently glide over her chest, wound area, she hadn't even noticed him until he spoke, which clearly shocked her. Snapping her head in his direction, her expression was releived that he was there. She shook her head, she relaized what he had done. " You're an idiot..." she scolded him, not the best thing to say to her savior but--

" You could have taken the entire loot for yourself...why didn't you just kill me off!? The organization is going to come after you...you wasted your future for ... some slut? " she said wincing as she proceeded to call herself a slut. Wincing as the sharp breath she took caused sudden pain she winced and grunted closing her eyes and looking away embarassed, " You should have left... since I fucked up..." she said in a softer tone.

Daniel's eyebrows arched when she called him an idiot. He rolled his eyes, and spoke up: "Yeah, you're welcome." he snapped back. He stood and turned the television off, leaning against one of the walls and staring down at her as she lay wounded on the bed. His eyes became alight with some hatred as she continued to scold him for helping her. He finally choked down some anger and spoke when she was done.

"You're right. They might come after me." he paused. "As a matter of fact, they will come after me." another pause. "But that doesn't mean I can't still knife that very same fucking slut through her throat." he looked her in the eyes; obviously very serious. "It wouldn't kill you to think before you talk." And, finally, with his last bit of hesitation: "But it might just kill you if you don't." he rolled his shoulders back and walked over towards the door.

"If you don't want any more help, I can just leave you here. It shouldn't be too hard for them to find a shot-up, wounded bitch moping around a hotel room, right? Maybe they'll be distracted with how they torture you long enough for me to get out of the country."

Alana's eyes narrowed at him angryly, jaw clenched as he went off on her. Great. More of what she needed. She wouldn't beleive it. She watched his every move, until a pained expression came over her face when he looked her in the eyes threatning to kill her and 'course she wasn't doubting it. " What makes me different...?" she asked, " if it was any other partner that fucked up, you'd have no problem slicing their throats..." she added but then stopped as he headed towards the door.

She didn't want him to leave, but she obviously wasn't going to tell him that. To make her look soft? No. She looked away, her lips parted, but her words seemed caught in her throat, she rested her hand against her bandages, " I never said I didn't want anymore help..." she told him, " if you're not going to thats fine... I need somewhere else to rest...this location obviously isn't safe anymore..." she kept most of her comments to herself. She was sure full of them... the things they would do to her were way worse then a slit to the throat.

He paused. He didn't answer her question; he didn't really have to. He turned where he stood in the doorway, and glared at her. He had no idea what to say as to 'what made her different'. He just didn't want to kill her. Didn't... want to. He blinked a few mores times, and ran his forearm across his forehead. She kept talking.

She didn't want to ask him for his help, but it was obvious she wanted it. He took a few more steps forward, so he was at the base of the bed, and he spoke up; voicing his demands.

"If you want my help, I'll help you. But lose the bitch attitude."

Alana looked back up at him, a small frown creased her lips, when he spoke, she breathed and remained quiet. She didn't nod only looked deep into his eyes, respecting him, she'd give him that much. But sometimes things came with the bitch package... he'd hopefully deal with it. " Fine..." she sighed.

Unzipping the jacket the rest of the way, Alana slipped it off her slender shoulders, not ashamed of being topless at all, " I'll try and get a change of clothes for starters..." she said handing him the jacket, which was of the man that he had killed. Therefore... she didn't want it. She wanted no memory of the man... or the boy.

Looking down at her bandaged wound she breathed in slowly her chest area rising shakily and she winced, " How long has it been..?"

Daniel glanced her curiously. She was comfortable with her body; that much was apparent as she handed him the jacket from where she lay topless on the bed. He nodded when she said she would get some more clothes. The jacket hadn't fit her all-too well, anyways. The guy had been pretty big; and she was very slender. He dropped the jacket near the floor, and returned to where he had stood before.

When she asked how long it'd been, he shot a glance towards the digital clock. "A few hours." he said. "You weren't out for too long." he shrugged widely. "You need me to go get you some clothes? Or do you have some here?" He rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked down at her as he tried to formulate some kind of plan to escape the Organization in his head. He doubted they were even aware of what had happened this soon, though.

Alana looked at him, " Are you comfortable with getting me clothes...?" she said raising an eyebrow, her current clothes were all stained and reeked of blood, but that meant he'd have to get her 'feminine underclothes' as well.

He would have to get her clothes anyways, she didn't bring anything with her-- and she wasn't strong enough to move so quickly yet.

She dragged her self to let her feet hang over the bed, and she looked down at herself in disgust, " Couple of hours... hm?" she repeated. Breathing in painfully, " If you could... get me painkillers... please" she winced, she'd have to change all of her clothes, especially since the cameras had caught her wearing her old current ones.

Daniel smirked a bit. He'd actually pocketed some painkillers from the medicine cabinet, earlier. He was planning to use them before the surgery, but, in his haste; he'd let her go without them. It must've hurt real bad. He fumbled through his back pocket, and placed the bottle of pills down on the bed. "There," he said. He decided not to explain that he'd forgotten to give them to her earlier. He also hoped they would work for what she needed - for all he knew, they were just to help with some old man's back problems.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Why wouldn't I be comfortable getting you clothes?" he blinked a few times - and then he understood. "Oh." he coughed. "Uh, well, what else are we going to do? Have you go out and buy them naked?" he smirked weakly. "Just, uh, help me make a list or something, maybe."

Alana was confused by his smirk, tilting her head, she looked so greatful when he showed her the painkillers she reached for them as quick as she could and scanned the label for what it was for. She turned the lid and popped 2 in her mouth swallowing before she turned back to him, grinning at his next comment, " I am not naked... " she protested, she could be, and not really mind. But she still had something on. She her bra just to proove it and winced as her chest gently pushed against her wound.

She sighed, " Why don't you just carry me around..?" she said smiling, before she looked around for a paper and pen so she could start the list. " Oh and if you do go... don't be shy to ask them any questions for sizes" she teased.