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?”
“That’s not one of the options. You’re going to get patched up somewhere. All you get to do is choose where. And if you keep arguing I will knock you out.”
Pietro sighed. “Well you can do the patching up, right? It’s not that hard to do it,” he said with a heavy sigh. ”I think the bullet wound will beat you to it.”
“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.
