This was going to be it. With this money he could get his daughter the treatment she needed and then he could stop stealing from people.

Flint Marko mentally went through this over in his mind again and again as he looked around, trying to find a car that he could steal and drive off in when his partner showed up.

The gun in his pocket felt heavier than usual; as if it were trying to weigh him down and stop him from going towards the car that was running and had an elderly man sitting in it.

Flint hesitated when he saw the old man and he bit his lower lip for a moment as he looked around; praying that there was another car that he could steal instead.

There wasn't any.

Flint narrowed his eyes and sighed softly as he reached into his pocket and took out his gun, still uncomfortable with handling it in the first place.

It had been his partner's idea for him to use a real gun this time. Flint Marko never killed anyone and he never wanted to, and when he usually robbed someone he would simply use a finger in his coat to look as if he had a gun and if that did not work; he had the muscles to intimidate them if he had to.

Please don't make me point the gun at you, old man. he thought as he tapped his gun against the window to get the man's attention.

Ben Parker looked up in confusion and when he saw the gun he wasn't afraid or angry; he was concerned if anything as he opened the door.

"Is something wrong, son?"

"I need your car." Flint said. "Out."

Ben sighed softly but did as he was told, leaving his car in park.

"What do you need my car for?" Ben asked simply.

"I need to get out of here, all right? Now just back up so you don't get hurt!" Flint snapped, pointing the gun at him.

Ben looked down at the gun calmly and he noted that the way he held it was not very aggressive or even willing really.

"Look son, just put the gun down and go home." He offered to him gently, resting a hand over Flint's gun hand. "You don't want to do this."

Flint looked at him in confusion and for a moment he shook his head.

"I need this as a getaway car. I need this money for my daughter." He said. "Now just…"

"How much does she need?"

Flint looked at him blankly.

"Well?"

"What do you care, old man?"

"Just throw a number at me." Ben offered with a smile.

Flint shook his head for a moment, looking at the old man as if he were crazy.

"Six grand."

"Done."

"What?"

Ben Parker smiled at him and shrugged for a moment as if the answer were obvious.

"You're a desperate man who's doing something for someone they care about the most." He explained. "I wonder if I were in your shoes; would I do the same thing? I'll loan you the money, but you need to put the gun down and walk away from here. When my nephew comes back, we'll talk about how you can pay me back."

Flint could not understand why this old man was offering that kind of money to someone who was trying to steal his car. He looked at him in utter confusion and for a moment he was going to ask if he was truly going to do this for him.

"Are you..?"

"Let's get out of here, Flint!"

His partner suddenly came out of nowhere and slapped Flint on the shoulder.

That was when he suddenly pulled the trigger and the bullet ripped into Ben's stomach.

Flint stared at him in horror and his partner grew frustrated and leapt into the car and sped off as Flint caught Ben into his arms and gently eased him down to the ground.

"Don't die." Flint pleaded, pressing his hands down on the wound for a moment, looking around to see if anyone had seen him actually shoot the old man.

"Someone call an ambulance!" he shouted. He looked back down at Ben then, and he bit his lower lip as he saw the blood spreading further and onto his hands.

"Don't you dare die on me, old man!" he pleaded with him. "I've never killed anyone before and I don't intend to start now! Come on!"

Soon enough the ambulance came along with cops and it was then that Flint knew that he had to either run or stay here.

He soon made his choice and with one final look back at Ben he turned and ran for it.

He ran until his legs were sore and when he was too tired to keep running he went into an alley and he proceeded to throw up violently everything that he had eaten that whole day.

He panted softly and slowly stood up straight, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked back to where the lights and sirens were coming from.

"I'm sorry." He whispered softly and with that he headed back home to get one last chance to tuck in his daughter before the police came after him.