He felt the familiar sting, the pain that accompanied a bullet piercing his body. Before the next shot could be fired, the man was dead and Pietro was looking back at Summer, “I told you not to follow,” he said as the blood started to fall down his body as he started to get woozy, using a nearby car to hold himself up. ”Are you ok?”
“Pietro Django Maximoff, I am not digging a bullet out of you. If you don’t make up your mind, you’re gonna lose your choice, because I hear sirens.” She pulled him around a little to take more of his weight.
“Those sirens are probably police and I don’t feel like them trying to arrest me right now,” he said, pushing himself up and away. “I’ll just do it myself then if you don’t want to help.”
“Why are you so goddamned stubborn! Earth to you, you are bleeding out, and with me here nobody is going to arrest you.” Summer snarled under her breath, wrapped her arm more tightly around his waist and reached up to put a palm on his forehead. “You’ve got five seconds to choose before I knock you out and do what I want.”
