Dynasty Decapitated

Put A Bullet Where I Shoulda Put A Helmet!

((Title from I wanna get better by bleachers

The next chapter or two will get confusing. I hope everything is explained in like an okay way xx))

Luke sips his coffee through the green straw that was provided to him, and earns the angriest fucking glare imaginable in response. He holds his hands up and shakes the iced coffee in defense. "What?"

"Do you- I'm putting this as gently as I can- do you ever shut the fuck up?" Calum asks.

"No," Luke takes another loud sip of his coffee and then makes an elongated "Ahh," noise.

Calum huffs and turns back to his window in the passenger seat. There's nothing incredibly interesting going on outside, so Luke's not sure what he could possibly be looking at. He eyes the scenery for a moment before shrugging and turning back to his window where the real fun is.

They're parked in the parking lot this time, instead of on the street, in a less conspicuous car with tinted windows. Luke has figured out he is very good at hot wiring cars. Their borrowed car is black, and has no visible license plates, because Michael had ripped them off and tossed them into the woods for an unknown reason, before stockpiling weapons into the trunk.

Luke has a backpack full of his own armory in his lap, but it's mainly cans of hairspray he can hold his hands in front of, and a gun he's not entirely sure how to use. Before they'd left the armory Michael had "borrowed" the guns from, michael had pointed to several little parts of it and said a bunch of words, but Luke really only remembers watching Calum fire a rocket launcher. He'd been thrown back a few yards before the rocket exploded and burned down the entire building, but no one was inside so Luke wasn't too worried.

Michael had muttered something along the lines of "Jesus fucking Christ, am I stuck with two absolute fucking idiots?" before he'd gingerly taken away the rocket launcher and tossed it into the trunk.

Luke is extremely excited to pull it ot later and blow something up. Ideally, the warehouse.

He glances at it out of the passenger window and feels a shiver run up his spine. Maybe that's what Calum's staring at so intently. Luke sighs and takes a sip of his empty coffee again. It's just melting ice, at this point. Calum jerks around and rips the cup out of his hands, then shoves it into the cup holder in his door.

"Fight, fight, fight," Michael chants quietly from the backseat.

Luke huffs and crosses his arm. "Can I eat the ice?"

"Can you-" Calum cuts off and reroutes the entire sentence. "No! No, you're the loudest fucking chewer on the planet, absolutely not!"

"Dick," Luke mutters.

"We're on a stakeout!" Calum reminds him in the same, angry whisper-yell. "We're supposed to be quiet, but you don't know what tha word means, do you?"

"Hmm," Luke turns his nose up and looks out his window again. The two of them are dead silent, seething quietly, while Michael squirms around in the backseat. He seems to be trying to find a more comfortable sitting position in the backseat, one that doesn't require both of his feet on the ground, as he squirms around wildly and occasionally stills, sighs, and continues thrashing.

It takes 25 minutes of dead silence before there's a soft thud from the passenger seat. Luke glances over to see Calum's pressing his pointer finger to the glass of the window, staring at the warehouse in shock. Luke follows his eyes and sees two guards dragging Ashton into the fucking night. He's not wearing a bag or a mask or anything. Luke's heart drops as he watches them lead Ashton across the parking lot entrance and into the tall building that they are parked behind. Luke feels nothing in the pit of his stomach.