The shot rings out once and for a second, nobody moves.

Then the entire courthouse plaza erupts.

People start screaming. Officers shove civilians down behind barricades. Fisk’s security detail rushes him toward the entrance while reporters scatter across the steps trying not to get trampled. Matt’s hand closes around your arm instantly, pulling you down beside him before you even understand what happened.

Then you see Buck.

He’s halfway up the courthouse steps beside Fisk when the bullet hits him.

It folds him hard, one hand flying to his abdomen as blood immediately stains through his shirt. The impact looks almost strange in how sudden it is. One second composed, watchful Buck Cashman, the next struggling just to stay upright while Fisk’s people try to move him inside.

And Buck still tries to keep moving.

That’s the part that destroys you.

Even wounded, even pale from the shock of it, he’s still focused on Fisk. Still trying to wave security forward. Still trying to do his job while blood slips through his fingers onto the courthouse stairs.

Matt says your name beside you.

You barely hear him.

Because Buck finally looks up through the chaos—dazed, breathing hard, hand pressed desperately against the wound—and his eyes land on yours immediately.

Like they were always going to.

And suddenly every awful thing between you feels unbearably small compared to the thought of him dying there in front of you.

Matt realizes it before you move.

His grip loosens slightly around your wrist. Karen looks between the two of you and understands too, expression falling in that quiet, disappointed way that hurts worse than anger.

Another officer shouts for everyone to get inside.

Fisk disappears through the courthouse doors surrounded by security while Buck nearly collapses trying to follow.

And you make your choice.

You pull free from Matt and run toward Buck instead.