Harry Potter: Syndicate of Heroes

Shoving the feeling to the side, he quickly crossed the street so that he'd be on the right side of the road for the direction that he wanted to travel in and began walking with his thumb out and his bag over his shoulder.

He'd barely gone half a mile when he heard it: a woman's scream. It was a cry filled with absolute fear and terrible, terrible pain.

Instantly, Bruce was off, racing down the street and around the corner. A nudge from the other guy had him skidding, one hand flung out to grab the brick corner to help him stop before he entered a small alley.

His eyes darted about, assessing any possible danger. Not seeing any, he focussed in on the slumped form against one wall near the far end. Whoever it was wasn't moving and Bruce picked up his pace to get to them.

One look told him how bad it was. Blood was pooling from the woman's stomach, spreading out around her. It was obvious that she'd been shot, most likely multiple times judging by the amount of blood. Only the smallest rise and fall of the woman's chest indicated that she was still alive.

Exactly why someone would want to shoot the woman was anyone's guess. She was dressed in a smart pencil skirt and jacket and what had once been a white shirt. The fact that her purse was on the ground next to her belied the idea that this had been a mugging gone wrong.

Bruce took one look at the woman's face, intending on assessing her condition, before stumbling backwards. He knew her. He hadn't seen her in years but he knew her. Worse still, he was related to her.

His cousin.

Jennifer.

He hadn't seen her in years, nearly a decade to be honest, not since her mother's funeral, but it was unmistakably her. Desperately, Bruce clamped down on the Hulk's need to go find who did this and to smash!

Jennifer's life was in the balance here; he needed to stay focused and not change.

"Jennifer! Jennifer!" he called desperately. "Stay with me, Jennifer."

Ripping her blouse so that the buttons flew off gave Bruce a good look at her stomach. He was right, she'd been shot multiple times. It was hard to tell through the blood and mess that was her stomach, but Bruce wouldn't be surprised to find that someone had emptied an entire clip into his cousin's stomach.

From what he could tell from her pulse when he placed her fingers against her neck, combined with the injuries that she'd sustained, he knew that she didn't have long to live. Not without medical assistance at least. And there was none of that to be had here.

Borrowing a bit of the Hulk's strength, Bruce scooped Jennifer's prone from off of the ground and raced down the alley. The instant that he came out onto the street, he stopped, his eyes feverously searching for help.

There! A pharmacy. Not ideal, but the best that he could do for now. Before he knew it, Bruce was barrelling through the door.

"Someone call an ambulance!" he shouted.

Whether they did or not, Bruce didn't know, his focus was solely on keeping his cousin alive. As gently as he could, he lay her down on the floor and ripped into his bag, pulling out everything that he could think of that he'd need that he had in there.

Checking her pulse again, he found it to be weak and thready. She'd already lost too much blood.

"Where's the ambulance?" he demanded.

"They're on their way," he was told.

Looking up and around, Bruce found that he'd gathered a crowd.

"What happened? Gunshot?" a man in a white smock asked.

"Yeah. I didn't see it," Bruce asked.

Together, the two did what they could to stop the bleeding.

"She's lost too much blood," the pharmacist said, sitting back. "There's nothing more that we can do here."

"No! I refuse to believe that," Bruce growled. "All she needs is a transfusion. Do you have blood here?"

"We're just a pharmacy. We sell medicine and bandages and the like," the man replied.

Ignoring the obvious solution, Bruce looked up at the gathered crowd.

"Does anyone here have O-negative blood?" he demanded.

Many looked bewildered; others simply shook their heads. Without the universal blood type, giving Jennifer the wrong blood could kill her. Not that she had that long to live anyway by the looks of it.

This was his cousin. Jennifer. His father and her mother had been siblings. If there was any chance, any chance at all of saving her life he had to take it. But the consequences? Bruce wasn't sure that he could live with it if something went wrong. Looking down into his cousin's face, her long black hair a mess on the ground framing her, he knew that things were already as bad as they could be.

Decision made, Bruce ripped his sleeve away, exposing his arm. Then, he grabbed up the tools that he'd need from his bag.

"What are you doing? You can't give her your blood. What if you're not compatible?" the pharmacist said, leaning across Jennifer's body to grab onto Bruce's arm.

"We're related. Cousins. We'll match," he said simply, ignoring the possible reality for the hope that he needed, and shrugging the other man's arm off to continue to work on saving her life.

There was only the briefest hesitation before he placed the needle into Jennifer's arm. Pulling the tourniquet loose from around his own arm, he watched as the life-giving and hopefully not life-altering blood began to flow from him to his cousin.

The sirens in the distance gave him hope that he'd done enough to buy his cousin enough time to reach the hospital and the doctors who could save her life.

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