Crimson stained the cobblestones, the thick, sticky trails of blood stretching from your wounded body to where Harvey had stumbled moments before. The sharp metallic scent hung in the air, twisting with the wet stench of the alley. He was disoriented, limbs heavy, but his mind remained locked on his goal. The rain lashed against his skin, drenching his clothes and clinging to his wounds. Uncomfortable. Disgusting.

You, across from him, were in no better shape. He could see that. His fingers dug into the rough stone beneath him, every movement a testament to the pain he was pushing through. His eyes, fierce and unforgiving, locked on yours through the rain and fog that coated the narrow alleyway. But soon enough, his gaze dropped - to the gun lying between you. One gun. One bullet.

With a grunt, he lurched forward on his feet, reaching for it. And so did you.

In that moment, time seemed to freeze. Your hand collided with his, your blood mixing with his, a shared stain on the cold metal. Both of you gripping the weapon that held the fate of the next moment.