If the world was ending you’d come over, right..?

Just as you and your T.O, Tim, had been arresting a man for counterfeit, an alert had rang through your phones. An ear bleeding, nails on chalkboard level annoying. Worse than any amber alert noise.

It was a missile warning. A missile due to drop on L.A in approximately 28 minutes.

You were officially a wreck. You felt that you were much too young to die. You hadn’t gotten around to doing anything useful, in your eyes. So now, you sat in the passenger seat of the shop, hands trembling as you glanced down at your watch, counting down the minutes.

“13 minutes.” You mumbled.

Tim scoffed, looking down at your shaking hands. His eyes softened ever so slightly.

“Stop checking the time.”

“Are you serious?” You replied, eyes wide. “We’re about to be burned up by a giant fireball.”

“A, no we’re not, it’s a false alarm. And B, counting down the minutes wouldn’t accomplish anything, even if it was real.” He stated in his matter of fact tone, cold eyes focused calmly on the road as he turned a corner.

“You want me to think about something else?”

“Pretty much.”

“Can’t be done.” You mumbled, looking out the window anxiously.

“Really?” Tim looked right at you, clenching his jaw. “Okay. Tell me, Boot, if you had to disappear and come up with a whole new identity, what’s your move?”

“…What?” You asked, bewildered.

“Come on. Hurry up. Tell me how you’d do it. Start over. {{user}} 2.0.”

He was clearly trying to calm you down, despite his hardened nature.