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John is in trouble.

Not that he would admit he's in trouble. It's true he's been stabbed and there's a great deal of blood trickling down his leg to pool in his shoe and soak through his sock, but nothing important in his thigh has been cut. If it were, he wouldn't be walking right now, he'd be face down and he'd be dead.

The only problem is that he's being followed and he's leaving a relatively easy to follow path behind him, consisting of that blood that keeps dripping down his leg.

It was supposed to be recon and nothing more. That had been his intention. Get into the warehouse, check out what was going on, see what he could when it came to the illegal weapons that were coming in and going out, then get out. Then call in an anonymous report and get the police out to the warehouse with something they can actually go on.

That had been the intention.

But then one of them had snuck up on him. He's not the sort of man who is easily snuck up on, but here he is, bleeding from a relatively deep wound just above his knee. And now they're following him.

All he needs to do is get closer to a more populated area of the city. He has his gun on him and he'll use it if it becomes necessary, but then he gets tied to all this as Detective John Riley and he'll have a fair bit of explaining to do.

Just a few more blocks, though. He can make it.

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The question makes John laugh, a soft sound to be sure, but still a laugh all the same. He shifts a little, pushing his suit jacket aside to show the boy the badge clipped to his belt. "I was working," he says, which isn't exactly the truth, but it's close enough. He had intended on making it all legitimate police work as soon as he had something to back up his claims.

"So I guess I got a little too close to some criminals, if that's what you're asking," he says. They tend not to like being watched as closely as he was watching them, after all. Especially when they're engaged in highly illegal activity.

"Oh, you're a policeman like Hopper," Nicaise said with a faint smile, feeling a little better about things now that he knew he wasn't being accosted by some rogue criminal. Not that soliders and officials could always be trusted, but Nicaise had also been learning that most people here, in general, were not trying to pretend to be something they weren't.

"You should have asked for his help. Or do policeman in Darrow usually work alone?" he asked, still walking apace with the man.

"He's not an officer I know," John says instead of answering the question outright. There's more than one precinct in Darrow, so it's entirely possible this Hopper works elsewhere, but even if they were close friends at work, John wouldn't have asked him to do something like this.

This is the sort of thing he needs to do alone. He can't risk others.

"I should have called for backup, though," he agrees. "I was taken by surprise." That's not entirely a lie either. It's not quite the truth, but he wouldn't usually be caught unawares like he was tonight.

"I guess I'm your backup," Nicaise said, though he hadn't the faintest clue what to do if anyone caught up with them. He kept glancing around, waiting for men to jump out at them or shoot at them, but so far he didn't see anyone. Self-defense lessons were one thing, but this was beyond school bullies.

"Are we going to hide somewhere?" he asked next, glancing down at the man's leg where he was bleeding, the fabric stained with it.

"Yes," John answers, but before he can elaborate on that, there's the sound of a footstep nearby and then, from the shadows, comes the shape of a man. He's carrying a pipe and John ducks, then throws his arm out and pushes the boy back against the building.

Nothing else matters except making sure these men don't hurt the kid.

He has his gun out in a flash and he hadn't wanted to do this, but there's no choice now. Another shadow is moving toward them, this one with a knife, the man who'd cut him earlier, and the gun goes off twice in quick succession. Both men go down, both shot in the knee and John gestures quickly. "Come on."

Nicaise let out a soft oof as his back hit the wall. But it was the shock of the sudden violence that made him freeze up, eyes wide and limbs rigid. He jumped at the loud bangs from the gun, and then he remembered who was with him. Toulouse was cowering behind his legs, the handle of his leash held in a death grip, almost forgotten. Nicaise scrambled to pick his small dog up in his arms, jumping into action as soon as the man beckoned him to follow.

"I've never seen a gun used in person before," he said breathlessly as he followed the man. He'd seen them in movies and on the television, but he hadn't been prepared for how loud it would be.

"I'm sorry," John says as they move down the street. He feels bad for the kid and for his dog, but it had been the best decision in a split second moment. With two men coming after them, it had been more important to keep him safe than anything else.

"I needed to put them down quickly," he says. "And it was the easiest thing to do. I'm not in a state to fight them."

And he doesn't think he can move for much longer. His leg is aching and he's growing dizzy from loss of blood.

"It's fine, I've seen crueler things," Nicaise said. There had been a fair amount of violence in the Palace, sometimes people needed to be punished. And he'd seen a fair amount in Darrow, as well. It was more the weapon that was new to him, and how loud it was.

"Are we almost there?" he asked, though where there was he didn't know. He hoped the man had somewhere in mind, because he was looking paler and Nicaise was certain he wouldn't have the strength to drag the man's body...anywhere.

John isn't really sure where to stop, but then he realizes where they are and he nods, turning down a quiet side street. They're near the warehouse Finch had taken over, the one he'd brought outright, although John has no idea where the money had come from.

He'd never really cared to ask either.

Reaching into his pocket, he withdraws a set of keys, then unlocks the side door they've just approached.

"If you don't want to come inside, that's fine," he says, because he understands this situation isn't usual. It might not be seen as safe by most people and he doesn't blame them. "There's a phone inside, I can call someone I know for help."

"I'm not staying out here," Nicaise said, following the man inside just as soon as he had the door open. It wasn't that Nicaise trusted the man simply because he was police, or because he was offering help, but he had pushed him out of the way of the criminals and he had the gun. If he wanted, he could have already used it on Nicaise.

"I'm not concerned," he continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "If you try anything my guardian will kill you."

John isn't the sort to challenge anyone's perception of him and if the boy thinks his guardian would be able to kill John, that's fine with him. He's meant to just be a regular police officer these days, after all, and he has no reason to act as if he's something more. Maybe John Riley can be killed by this boy's caretaker.

He only nods, then pushes open the side door, waits for the boy and his dog to step inside, then closes the door again. To his left, a bright panel lights up and John reaches for it, pressing the tip of his index finger into the fingerprint scanner. A moment later the panel goes dark again, but the lights inside the warehouse turn on.

The computer equipment is dark, covered in plastic, but it's clear this place has been in use.

"First aid equipment is through here," he says, limping toward one of the side rooms Finch had set aside just for this very reason.

Whatever place the man had just taken him into had the type of security Nicaise had never seen before outside of movies and television. He glanced around, taking in the state of the room, as he followed the man into another room.

"If it's very serious I might not be able to fix it," he said, worry creeping into his voice. He knew basic first aid, thanks to Damen, but the more time he'd been around the man the more blood he'd noticed, and the heavier his limp.

"What's your name?"

"John," he answers as the lights go on inside Finch's makeshift hospital room. "And I think we'll manage. I have some experience."

He's patched himself up plenty of times. Even if all he has in the boy is an extra pair of hands, he knows that's going to be a good deal of help. Trying to suture a wound without help is always a little difficult and he knows he can do it if necessary, but if it's not, he'll prefer that option.

Lowering himself to the small cot, he reaches for one of the cupboards and pulls out a pair of scissors and begins to cut his pant leg. "What's your name?"

Nicaise put Toulouse down, putting a chair leg through the handle of his leash so he wouldn't wander off. He came over to where the man- John- had sat himself on a cot, and watched as he cut into his pant leg in such a detached way that Nicaise believed him when he said he had experience.

"Nicaise," he answered, watching raptly.

"I'm going to need to suture this," he says, looking at the wound for a moment before he reaches to collect a small cloth. It's clean, but it's been sitting for some time and John can only hope it's not going to cause an infection.

"Have you ever done anything like that before?" he asks, looking up at Nicaise. He really doesn't mind if the boy wants to leave.

"You can call your guardian and have him pick you up here," he says. He won't be able to use the building again after that, but he'll take the loss if it has to happen. He doesn't like putting children in any sort of danger.

"Don't worry, I'm not scared," Nicaise said. He certainly wouldn't be calling Laurent and telling him about this. After the incident with Lincoln he'd been shadowed for a month, he had to take self-defense lessons and learn the first aid he mentioned earlier. Things like this Nicaise would keep to himself as much as possible.

"Do you mean stitches?" he asked, tilting his head for a closer look at the wound. "I wasn't taught that."

"That's fine," John answers. "An extra pair of hands will be plenty of help. Can you go into the med kit and take out that black thread. It'll feel a little less flexible than real thread, more like wire."

He begins to clean the wound as best he can, wiping away blood, using a fresh cloth to hold against it for a moment to help stop the flow of blood. It has to be as clean as possible in order for him to properly stitch it closed.

"Yes," Nicaise answered, and went to do that. The wound made him a little uneasy, if he was being honest, but he'd already offered to help and he wasn't about to look weak in front of a stranger who didn't even seem to flinch at bleeding out.

He brought the entire med kit over and took out the thread as expected.

"Now what?"

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