Escape.

On the chief's belt was a small set of keys. "I'll bet everything I have the key I need is right there," I thought, my determination to free her driving me forward. It did make sense that the key I needed was on him.

"Stupid, ignorant, useless, piece of shit," I muttered in my head, he had no control of his people. He deserved to be hurt, to be scared, and to be beaten. Even just a bit.

As if a danger sensor went off in his head, alerting him of my scorn-filled look, he jumped up. Startled, I stumbled backward, luckily the cruddy lighting kept him from seeing my face. "WHO'S THERE?!" he shouted in full alertness. "Justice," I responded, making my voice as deep as possible. Being the same height as a regular adult, it made the voice as convincing as possible. 

"I'm warning you whoever you are, I am armed," he said trembling, but reaching for his pistol. "You're not the only one," I responded, holding up a stapler and acting as if it were a weapon. The bad lighting was currently my biggest asset, one I could not afford to lose. At that point, I was pulling random things out of every crevice in my brain.

"I would prefer to resolve this without bloodshed, so hand me the keys and put your gun down. After that, act like nothing happened," I demanded, he seemed to be quaking in his boots at my words. "A-Alright," he responded terrified. I couldn't blame him, I would be in the same situation. Hell, I was scared and I wasn't the one with a "gun" to their skull.

After he slid the keys to me and put his gun on the couch, I put the cold steel part of the stapler to his skull. "Now go back to bed, and act as if this was all a bad dream," I commanded, but he didn't move.

"Adrien?" he asked in shock, I had forgotten to mask my voice this time, and I accidentally stepped into the light, he could now see my reflection in the window. Everything was messed up, just because I got cocky.

"RAHH!" he screamed in anger, flinging my body backward like a ragdoll. My back slammed into the sharp part of his coat hanger. Which cut deep into my side. "AH!" I yelped in pain, blood slowly dripping down my side, onto the wooden floor.

*Pant, pant.* I was winded, partly because I was terrified. Partly because I was losing blood, and it hurt like hell. Mainly because he was aiming his colt straight at my skull. It was do-or-die time, and luck was no longer with me. I messed up, and I knew it well. 

"Why?" the chief suddenly asked me, beads of sweat were dripping down both our foreheads, and I had to answer. But I was one hundred times more scared than he would ever be. "I can't tell you that," I responded, shaking a bit.

"WHY CAN'T YOU TELL ME DAMMIT!?" he shouted in anger and confusion. "I just wanted out, I wanted to get her and myself out of this shitty town," I answered, a lone tear sliding down my cheek. His face changed from anger to pity. "Please, don't look at me like that," I thought.

"Freeing a murderer is not the way out kid!" the chief shouted at me. What made it all worse was that he was right and I was too blind to see it at the time. "It hurts," I thought, clutching my side as tightly as possible.

"Do you see your own mistake now?" he finally asked me after a moment of silence, lowering his gun. "I have made dumb decisions in the past, I've made mistakes, but this is one I'm willing to make!" I responded, but he looked like he understood what I meant. He slowly lowered his guard more.

"But even taking everything into account, if she stays here to suffer for freeing others from torment, then the police are no better than criminals!" I shouted. He seemed to understand my point.

"Then go ahead, I won't stop you. Take those keys and free her, then you can decide if it was all worth it. But after you free her, what next? You'll be on the run," the chief told me, I knew what he meant, but I didn't care.

"I don't know what comes next, life is unpredictable that way. But even if you hunt us down, even if you kill us, I'll make sure I at least made an impact," I responded, dying was part of the journey of life.

"I just know that at least I won't sleep while people need my help," I muttered in anger, he heard me, and gave me a confused look. 

As if on cue, we could hear the guard shouting for help. "Don't, he's getting exactly what he deserves for what he tried to do," I said, stopping the chief from leaving. His face was tensed up, but his eyes showed he trusted me, just a little bit.

"What did he do?" the chief asked me. "Just check the cameras, you'll get your answer," I told him, as I left the room, regardless of what went on, I was freeing Crovera no matter what.

"H-Help me, please!" the guard begged me, as he saw me walk past. I didn't care for him though, I was going through the keys to open Crovera's cell door. Eventually, I found the right one and opened it for her to walk through. She seemed to know what I had done though, and was waiting for me.

"Let's go," I said to her, she nodded before kicking the guard a few more times in the face. *CRACK!* I didn't need to be a doctor to know she broke his jaw. *SMACK!* She kicked him one final time, right in the balls.

"How'd you get me out?" she asked me as we bolted out of the station. "The not very legal way," I replied, hoping to avoid the exact details of what went down. Which worked for the most part. "So daring my darling," she whispered in my ear, making me blush. "FOCUS, MORON!" my brain shouted at me, we weren't far enough away just yet. 

"That wasn't fair beautiful," I teased back as we arrived at an abandoned train yard. 

"The perfect hideout," Crovera commented. "Indeed it is," I responded, partially out of breath, my bleeding side was still dragging me down, but it wasn't bad enough to make me bleed severely.

Regardless, the train yard was the perfect hideout, namely because of its size. We were easily able to hide anywhere because of that. "Where to?" she asked me as we overlooked the train cars, looking for one in decent condition. "No clue," I responded quickly, trying to focus. 

"We have to find one in good condition, then we have to clean it, then I need to bandage my wound," I explained, she nodded along until I got to the part of my injury. "Wait you're injured!?" she shouted in surprise, her eyes showing concern.

"It's just a scratch," I answered, brushing it off. It was easily able to be patched up, probably because my body was used to repairing many life-threatening injuries.