sorry i'm a shit daughter♡︎

𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓♡︎

Coming to a quick stop at the van door, she swung it open. She put her hands on her knees, breathing heavily. She looked up, seeing no one in the van. "What? Where the hell is he?" she asked out of breath.

"Right here."

"Jesus!" she almost screamed, jumping forwards. Her body turned around and she rested her back on the edge of the front seat. "Christ, Hargreeves! You can't just sneak up on a girl like that! Especially when it's dark!"

"You're late," he deadpanned, crossing his arms.

She looked up, closing her eyes while she tried to catch her breath. "Yeah, by like one minute," she breathed out.

"Fifteen minutes actually. I thought that you ran off."

She shrugged, exhaling as she opened her eyes and looking at Five. "Oops." He glared at her. "I'm sorry, okay? I got caught up in something at your house. It just- ugh."

He took a step towards her, "Yeah, well, next time you're late, I will kill you."

-

"And there he is," Five said, grabbing Y/n's wrist before blinking them into Lance's car.

Much to both of their dismays, when they appeared in Lance's car, Y/n fell on top of Five.

He was sitting straight with his head turned to Lance as he got in the car. Y/n had her back to the passenger side door, facing Lance. She held back a sigh at her uncomfortableness. Grabbing a switchblade from her jacket pocket, she put it around her back, handing it to Five despite wanting to move. He grabbed it, trying not to move in fear of both of them being more uncomfortable. Or- something else.

The dog in the back seat barked at them as Lance shut his car door.

"Jesus!" Lance almost screamed as he turned and saw the two.

Y/n sighed, doing her best to get into the back seat. She dropped down onto the seat right next to the dog as Five refrained himself from fixing his shorts.

He clicked the switchblade open, grabbing Lance by the shoulder. Putting his face close to Lance's, he put the switchblade to his throat. Lance's eyes went wide as he tried leaning back. "One chance," Five said through gritted teeth. "That's all you've got. One chance to tell me exactly what's going on in that lab," he spat.

Lance glanced in the back seat at Y/n. She had grabbed one of her daggers out of the holster and started messing with it. She twirled it around, her one finger on the end of the handle and the other on the point of the blade. It started drawing a little blood, which she didn't even notice.

Lance looked back at Five, very scared at both of their actions. "I- I manufacture prosthetic devices for fake patients," he stammered. Five pushed the blade closer to his neck. "I bill the insurance companies and- and sell them for cash on the black market," he said quicker.

"Including eyeballs?"

"Yeah. T-Th-They're my biggest seller," Lance stuttered. Five inhaled. "I mean, they sell like hotcakes," Lance continued. "I-I've got a list, a waiting list, probably twenty buyers."

"So the serial number I told you," Five started, his voice trailing off as an indication that Lance should continue.

"Uh," he glanced back at Y/n, then to Five. "Could've already been bought. Yes off- off the books."

Five sighed, "I need that list, Lance. Names and numbers, and I need it now!"

"I don't have it," he breathed out. "I mean, not on me."