Yeah that's weird as hell. Also unsettling. He retreats from the edge, pulling Jamie with him. 

"Any ideas?" He asks his brother. 

"Run?" He suggests, motioning to the other side of the car. The creepy mob hasn't circled it yet, so they could just jump down the other side and make a break for it. 

He steps towards it, nodding, "Yeah, probably a good idea-" 

There's a loud bang-crack behind him. 

He whirls around, searching for the source of the noise. 

And finds Jamie, expression confused, clutching at his chest.

A stream of blood slowly trails down from beneath his hand.

He stumbles, knees going weak.

Alex lunges forward to catch him, going to his knees on the car roof.

"Jamie? Jamie!" 

He pushes his brother's hand away to put pressure on the wound, trying to remember what you're supposed to do for gunshot wounds.

There's blood spreading underneath him, too. 

His breath comes raggedly, wet - the bullet went through a lung. 

He brings his bloody hand up to pat at Alex' face, "Le-" he breaks off to cough, splattering Alex with blood.  

Shit- 

He doesn't know what to do. He keeps pressing on the exit wound, automatically, even though it's not fixing anything. 

"Jay- I got you, stay with me-" 

Oh god, oh fuck, he's going to die, right here, in Alex's arms-

-Something stirs in him, his anger and panic, and his fear for his brother's life prodding it awake-

-he's going to die, and there's nothing he can do-

- and then that something breaks, filling him with a feeling like hot fire, fanning the flame of his rage so far it transcends past fury to serenity.

What's wrong with Alex? He wonders blearily, looking up through a growing fog at his other half's face. He hurts, more than he ever has before, but it's ignorable in the face of Alex's expression. Why is he scared?

The edges of his vision darken, and it dawns on him.

Oh. He's dying. 

...Well, that won't do. He's not going to leave Alex alone, even if he has to defy death itself-

- and inside him, something shatters, sending a feeling like cool mist through his insides, soothing his wounds. His mind - and vision - clears.

The train car shakes, a reminder that the mob is still there. Anyone paying any attention to their surroundings might hear the sound of someone climbing up the ladder at the end of the car.

Alex' head shoots up, eyes catching on the top of the climber's head.

Everything feels clear, somehow. His brother's blood still stains his hands, but something tells him everything's going to be ok, now.

He just needs to deal with the enemy.

He stands, hands flickering with blood-orange fire, and lunges at the climber.

He hits the man as he reaches the top of the ladder, sending him falling off the car. There's another climber beneath him, and the rest of the mob is circled around, ready to climb as well. The climber lands on some of them. 

And Alex lands on the climber, kicking off of him in what should be an impossible maneuver (nothing is impossible) and grabbing the other climber by the leg, dragging him down from the ladder. 

He backs up against the car, clears himself a space with a blast of the blood-orange flame, and then launches at the nearest enemy with fire-covered fists. 

Back on top of the car, Jamie sits up slowly, hand going to check his chest wound. 

There's nothing there, as expected. Just a ragged outline of pale flesh, filled in with skin the same tan colour as the rest of his body. 

He stands, making his way to the edge of the car. Alex is fighting the enemy, his hands, eyes, and forehead glowing with blood-orange light. Jamie looks down at his own hands, unsurprised to find the space between his fingers filling with wisps of violet-orange. 

He looks back up, noting that his brother is having no trouble with the mob at all. Still, he might as well lend a hand. 

He jumps down from the car, landing unnaturally lightly, and lunges at the nearest enemy, flame spiralling up his arm to enhance his first blow.  

The enemy are many, but none of them have the twins' fire, despite the mist flickering around their heads. Between the two, they go down easily. 

Once they're all down, the serenity begins to recede, and the fear and panic resurface. He whips around and darts across the impromptu battlefield to Jamie's side. 

"Jamie-"

Jamie catches him, coming down from the battle mindset more gently. 

"I'm ok, it's fine, see-" he presses Alex' hand to the regenerated flesh where the exit wound was. 

He slowly calms, eyes locked on the healed wound, tracing the line of pale skin where the edges of it were. 

He shudders, "Jamie-" he half-sobs, lifting his head and pulling him down into a bruising kiss. 

It's just as bruising on his side as well, for once. Fuck, he'd almost died.

A long moment later, he pulls away, breath coming hard, "-What was that," he asks, eyes wild, "I mean thank fuck, but what-" 

"I dunno," Jamie answers, pressing his forehead against Alex's, "We're alive, though, that's what matters. We'll figure it out." 

"Yeah," he agrees, finally starting to calm. 

He pulls away a bit to look around at the carnage around them. 

He doesn't think any of them are dead, thankfully, even if whoever had shot Jamie would have deserved it. Though - they were acting really weird. 

What was that mist? Around their heads?

Whatever it was, it's gone now.

...Like they should be. They don't want to be discovered at this scene.

He grabs Jamie's hand, "Come on, let's get out of here," he says, pulling him over to the car to grab their things, and then away, back to town.