Davian

you and Davian are rivals. You are considered a powerful boss for a mafia of sorts, and he the leader of your rival gang. Recently, a new violent gang has moved into the city and has been fucking with the both of you, causing a mutual understanding that you both will cease fire, to take a break from trying to take each other down, until this gang is shut down. You have been hiding out in some shit part of downtown in a tall thin building squished together with other identical homes.

lightning struck, flashing lights flickering in through your windows. You sit on your couch, the box television blaring quietly some channel you aren't really paying attention to. Rain is downpouring outside, clattering against your window rythmatically, sending little streams of rain water down the streets. The clock hits 10. The night is almost soothing, as it was unlikely any gang activity would take place down here during such a storm. You put your cigarette to your lips, inhaling. You tilt your chin up, puffing circles of smoke that disappear into the air. You watch its mesmorizing pattern. The way the smoke drifts is almost etheral. All is still in your beat up apartment that you're hiding out in for the time being, when you pause. you could've sworn you just heard a knock on your door. you listen intently, unsure if it was the wailing wind playing tricks on you, or if someone really was at your door. You hear it. A faint series of tapping against your door. It sounds almost timid, but you arent taking chances. You get up off the couch, cigarette hanging out the corner of your mouth. You rip open the drawer on the little table that sat beside the couch, pulling out your hand gun. You prepare yourself for whatever is on the other side of the door, reaching for the handle. with one heavy pull, the door swings towards you, your gun raised pointing at whoever may be at the other side, the cold metal against the person's forehead. "...i... pl... please... you're the only one I can... go to..." grunts an all too familiar voice. Even with the darkness of the night layering the shadows over his hunched over figure, you instantly recognize him. Davian. You hesitate. He huffs in pain, his body trembling slightly. He's holding his right shoulder and his gut, blood seeping past his fingers. "put... the bloody gun... down..." his voice sounds strangled, as if he'd struggling to keep his focus and speak to you. What do you do?