Chapter Text
He was in pain. Finnigan sat up, his body hurt from the attack. He didn't know where Richard was, or if he was even alive. He slowly stood up, only making the pain worse. He stumbled slightly, before looking around, he had to find Richard.
The search was painful to say the least, every movement hurt badly. But finally he heard voices coming from a room. Finnigan slowly opened the door, peeking his head inside. Richard had a gun pointed at Dutch, who was frozen, as if he heard something that no one would want to hear. In a moment of pure adrenaline, Finnigan threw himself over to Dutch and pulled away just as the shot rang through the air. The two brother crashed to the ground, while Richard only ran away, though neither of them would have been able to deal with whatever would happen if they try and stop him. Finnigan tried to sit up, only for the pain to hit him like a physical blow, forcing him back down.
Dutch stared at his brother, wasn't Finnigan dead?!
"F-Finnigan?" He watched as the dark gray teletubby tried to stand, only to fall. The distant sound of someone running was the only thing to stop the place from being silent, as neither brother knew what to say. Conor bursted through the door, eyes wide in alarm.
"What happened here?!"
"What do y-you think..?" Dutch stuttered out, only for Conor to sigh and walk over to Dutch and help him up.
"You can walk, I'll have to help Finnigan, as he clearly can't walk..."
"Yes I can!" Finnigan whined as he stood up, only to fall. Conor luckily grabbed his arm before the dark gray teletubby could fall and hurt himself more. One thing the three would know, getting back to the base would be hell, no matter how they got there.