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And then the shadow descended.

The huge shape barreled into Erik, and Troy gasped desperately as the grip around his throat was ripped away. Troy dropped to the ground, not realizing until his ass hit the pavement that Erik had been holding him up. His hand roseto his throat as he gasped for breath, looking toward the two men fighting nearby. Troy’s eyes widened, and he recognized the shape of one of the men as he rolled and tried to punch the other.

“O-Oscar?” Troy rasped, rubbing his throat.

Oscar was giving the fight his all, and despite the lack of two hands, he was managing quite well. Troy watched as Oscar shoved Erik onto his back, rearing back to punch him across the jaw, once, twice, three times. Troy’s eyes widened as he realized Oscar wasn’t going to stop, and he launched himself forward.

Troy wrapped his hands around Oscar’s forearm and yanked back. “Oscar! Stop!”

Oscar turned to snarl at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Stopping you from ruining your fucking life, now stop! You’ve won. He’s down, stop!”

Sure enough, the most to come out of Erik was a low gurgle as he looked around with dazed eyes. Troy stared down at him, amazed that not only had Erik been ready to kill him but that the fight had happened so fast.

“Shit, did I pass out?” Troy wondered.

It was the only thing that could explain how his memory could go from gasping in a breath and checking himself mentally to the fight being over and done with.

Troy looked at Oscar, his eyes widening. “Oh shit...Oscar.”

He had definitely missed a lot. There was a nasty mark beside Oscar’s right eye, and a cut on his left eyebrow was bleeding steadily. There were scrapes on his bare arm from their scuffle in the street, and Troy had no doubt there were probably more injuries he couldn’t see.

Troy gave him another tug. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

“I don’t have a car,” Oscar grumbled.

“Well, I do. I’ll call someone to pick Erik up, but I’m getting you back to the base to look these wounds over.”

“I’m fine.”

Troy gave another tug, and once Oscar was on his feet, he pointed to the corner. “Go, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Like you ever fucking did,” Oscar grumbled.

Troy shook his head, biting back the acerbic response on the tip of his tongue. He crouched beside Erik, who was still struggling for consciousness. Troy reached into the man’s shirt and pulled out his phone, amazed to see it was still in one piece.

“Good quality phone cover,” Troy remarked.

As he waited for the phone to dial 911, he turned to watch Oscar as he limped down the street and smiled. Despite complaining, Oscar was walking in the direction Troy had pointed.

“Fuck,”Oscar hissed, pulling back.

Troy kept his hand in place, raising a brow. “Really? Don’t be a big baby.”

“It hurts.”

“This from the man with enough gunshot wounds he could apply to be a range target.”

Oscar continued to glower, wincing when Troy dabbed the cut on his brow. Oscar didn’t have any first aid supplies at his apartment, and in a fit of irony, neither did Troy. So instead, he’d opted to take Oscar back to the clinic where he knew he’d have supplies at hand and would only have to endure a curious look from Dean before shoving Oscar into one of the exam rooms.

“This needs stitches,” Troy said, eyeing the wound.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. It needs stitches.”

“And I said it’s fine,” Oscar growled.