Neal rolls over, hand on his own injury, in time to see Malcolm stab Keller.
He makes a soft sound. Shock. Protest. Keller stares at them both, the gun loose in his grip now. He looks at Neal, then at Malcolm, then laughs in a wheezy blood-soaked way that sends flecks of red cresting over his lips. "Well well well. The sheep found himself a wolf after all."
Neal forces himself up onto one knee, staring at Keller, then looking at Malcolm, feeling stupid and frustrated and wanting to scream at himself to do something.
The gun hits the ground, only now it's a standard-issue NYPD sidearm, and the man with the knife in his chest is Gil Arroyo. He still has handcuffs dangling from the fingers of his other hand. His focus is on Malcolm.
"You won't get away with it," he gurgles, the words pained in a way that's not physical.
cw STABBY VIOLENCE
He makes a soft sound. Shock. Protest. Keller stares at them both, the gun loose in his grip now. He looks at Neal, then at Malcolm, then laughs in a wheezy blood-soaked way that sends flecks of red cresting over his lips. "Well well well. The sheep found himself a wolf after all."
Neal forces himself up onto one knee, staring at Keller, then looking at Malcolm, feeling stupid and frustrated and wanting to scream at himself to do something.
The gun hits the ground, only now it's a standard-issue NYPD sidearm, and the man with the knife in his chest is Gil Arroyo. He still has handcuffs dangling from the fingers of his other hand. His focus is on Malcolm.
"You won't get away with it," he gurgles, the words pained in a way that's not physical.