"Love you, quite a bit," Correy smiled in return. Again he kissed Jon tenderly. It mattered not a bit to Correy that they were standing in the middle of the road, in the middle of the night. Every time was the right time and time stood still in their perfect little bubble.

That's what it seemed like to Jon, as well. As if time was standing still, but the little puffs of breath from their mouths and the chill to their hands and cheeks got Jon thinking about heading home to a warm apartment and a cozy bed. "We should get going."

"Can't wait to get me in bed so you can have your way?" He lifted his chin to kiss the tip of Jon's nose. Only then did he reluctantly pull from the embrace, but not completely. His hand was still in Jon's pocket.

Jon smiled, even laughing a little at Correy's show of affection. "Maybe," he answered, teasing a little. He turned then and slid his arm back around Correy's shoulder, in more of a hurry to get home now that Correy had voiced his own desires.

"We can pack a bag and spend the week out at the springs cottage. I'd like that. You and me, no phones, no servants, nobody around that I have to beat off with a stick."

Jon smilled at that suggestion. "So long as you bring stuff to makes s'mores, you're on."

"You've got it," he laughed and kissed Jon's cheek and gave his rear end a squeeze.

Jon fell into step beside Correy heading in the direction of the apartment, smirking when Correy gave a squeeze of his rear. "Think you can wait "til we get home?"

"It'll be so hard to wait, but I think I can manage." Correy then removed his hand from Jon's pocket and took off in a sprint. "But not for long!" He laughed over his shoulder.

Jon laughed and fell into a sprint behind Correy, catching up with him and grabbing an arm to tug him back around to face him.

The streets had become quiet, most of the crowd gone home for the night. It was then the stalker chose to take advantage of the opportunity. A dark figure stepped out from behind a building directly in front of the pair, the barrel of a semi-automatic handgun pointed in their general direction.

Jon didn't notice the gun at first or the darkly clad figure, too intent on his moment with Correy, kissing him again and pulling him close.

Correy whirled around, laughing as he got pulled close to Jon's front. His arms went into their natural position, one upon and around Jon's shoulder, the other around his waist. He was being kissed and he kissed back. The world was spinning around them and he was lost in the moment. The gunman hadn't been noticed.

Jon leaned in to capture Correy's lips again, momentarily distracted as something caught the corner of his eye, the glint of moonlight shining off something metallic. He parted from Correy's lips, turning his head to see what had caught his eye, mouth opening silently in warning, but with only a single instant to react, his eyes locked on the barrel, and his first instinct was to protect Correy. He pushed Correy roughly behind him just as a shot rang out, looking stunned when he felt a bullet rip into his left shoulder. Pain like fire coursed through his shoulder, but there was no time to react as a second shot rang out without warning, and he fell backwards onto the street, a small caliber hole in his forehead.

Correy had no idea that there was somebody so close that had such obsessive hatred in their heart that they'd wish them both physical pain. All he knew was that mere seconds before the shot rang out he was shoved aside. And when the first, then second shot was fired, Correy screamed out in horror. "No!" He ran between Jon and the gunman, and that seemed enough to make the gunman turn tail. The job had been done. If they couldn't have Jon, nobody would. Correy stopped chase and went back to Jon's side. He knelt down beside him and stared at the hole in Jon's forehead. "Help! Somebody, anybody!" he screamed.

Jon stared up at Correy, only seconds of consciousness left before everything would go black. He tried to move his lips, to form words, but nothing came out. He only looked up at Correy with terror in his eyes, blood soaking his shoulder, a hand clawing to find Correy's.

A few bystanders hurried over, having heard the shots, a little mumbling behind Correy as someone recognized Jon. Someone got on their cell phone and dialed the Watch for help.

"Jonny, no! Baby, wake up! Look at me!" Correy shook Jon's shoulders as he knelt on the ground and took Jon's head in his lap. "Please, baby! Wake up!" He was nearly hysterical at this point and the tears rolled down his cheeks. "Please, Jonny."

Jon's eyes drifted closed and his head fell into Correy's lap, blood bubbling from the hole in his forehead, his body going limp and lifeless, face deathly pale, though he was still breathing and his heart was still beating.

Help arrived quickly, every second critical. Bandages were applied, and suddenly Jon was lifted from Correy's lap. Blindly Correy followed. His tears were hot and he trembled with fear. He kept a hand on Jon's foot when he was loaded into the ambulance that would take him to the hospital, and he sat beside him the entire way.

He kept his eyes on Jon's face as the tears rolled and dripped off of his own. "Stay with me, Jonny. Please. Don't go. Not yet, don't go, please."

In a chair as hard as diamonds, Correy sat. He was slumped over the bed, his arms curled and his head laying upon them. One hand held onto Jon's. No way would he let go if he didn't have to. And even as he slept, he kept that tactile connection between himself and Jon.

As nurses and doctors came and went with thier quiet shoes and speaking in what Correy dubbed as "the tone," Correy remained by Jon's side. The toilet was in a tiny room off of the private room that had become Jon's. Correy didn't feel the need to eat or drink much of anything.

He held a quiet vigil and prayed more than he'd ever prayed in his young life. Correy made deals with God, the Devil and just about every angel and demon in between. Somebody had brought him a change of clothes and forced him to shower. But Correy couldn't tell you who that person was.

He was in a severe state of shock. Any time spent away from Jon was guilt and fear ridden. If he wasn't shaking in terror, he was crying because he just knew Jon would wake up any second and his fiancee wouldn't be there.

He was glad to see the flood of visitors, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends and siblings. But at night, when visiting hours were over, Correy crawled into the bed to lay beside Jon. He held and comforted and was comforted by the warmth of Jon's skin and the sound of his strong heartbeat under his ear.

And as he drifted to sleep, the words were mumbled softly. "Please, don't go."