[It's hard to stay calm when you've been shot at. But Monica's presence is something he can narrow his focus on. It can't dispel the fear squeezing his chest like a vice, but it gives him something to think about something other than the blood staining his pants. Get up, shift his weight, let her prop him up. Start limping/walking, even if it hurts. He can't afford to be something that slows her down.]
Fuck! [He bites on his lower lip. He hates how he can't keep his cool when it counts.] My keys... they're in my right pocket.
[Does Monica even know how to drive his bike? He doesn't know. If she can't, he can take over. They just have to get away from here.]
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Fuck! [He bites on his lower lip. He hates how he can't keep his cool when it counts.] My keys... they're in my right pocket.
[Does Monica even know how to drive his bike? He doesn't know. If she can't, he can take over. They just have to get away from here.]