I lay panting on the ground, covered in blood and dirt. Everything hurt, but it was done. I heard him move closer.

“Not still trying to kill me, are you?” I asked, only half joking

“Lacey-”

“If your gonna say something chivalrous, I'm will throw my knife at you.”

“You seem to have done plenty of that already,” he replied, inspecting his body, it was caked with blood and bruises. I turned on my side to face his crouched figure,

“Do you remember anything?”

“Everything. But most times it was like watching from behind the scenes, I couldn't control anything.”

“How many of the us moments-” I said motioning between us “-were real?” he winced

“Not as many as I would've liked.”

I fell onto my back staring at the ceiling.

“Thank you for freeing me.”

“What part of knife throwing do you not understand?” he chuckled

“There are others...”

“I already have my next target,” I told him. He picked himself up

“Then let me help, I owe you.”

“And a lot more, pretty boy.” he leaned over me, and offered a hand, this was it, I could lay here or take that hand and finally admit that maybe I was meant for something more than wasting myself away in a pub everyday. I looked at his face, I had a feeling he was going to help the others with or without me, I could at least make sure he didn't get himself killed. I clenched his hand as he heaved me up.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”