Gnosis

CHAPTER 3: YOU LOOK TIRED AS HELL

Word Count: 3 370

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November 16, 1963

                           - Elliot's Home Office

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As the familiar and somewhat disorienting pull of the jump faded, (Y/n) felt the world solidify beneath her feet again, but the sudden shift in location threw her balance. She stumbled, catching herself just in time with a soft exhale, though her legs wobbled from the residual dizziness. Before she could sway any further, Five's steadying hand clamped onto her arm, his fingers firm and secure as he pulled her upright. His eyes flicked over her with amusement, a smirk playing at his lips.

"A little warning would have been nice," she mumbled as she smoothed her clothes and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

Five released her arm, crossing his own. "You'd think after all this time, you'd be used to it," he replied with a small sigh that conveyed more amusement than frustration.

(Y/n) arched an eyebrow. "You teleporting us around like that? I don't think anyone could ever really get used to it," she countered, shaking her head.

Five's eyes sparkled with a glint of dry humor as he began walking ahead. "Well, you did," he tossed back. (Y/n) fell in step behind him, her footsteps quiet as she followed him.

Turning the corner, they were greeted by a rather unexpected sight. There, sprawled across the worn fabric of the couch, were Lila and Diego. Lila was leaning over Diego, who was half-naked with his shirt tossed aside. His jaw clenched in discomfort as he watched her work.

In Lila's hand was a soldering iron, its tip glowing a faint orange in the dim room, sending small wisps of smoke curling into the air. She was pressing it against Diego's skin, her other hand steadying his shoulder as she concentrated, eyes narrowed. The unmistakable, sharp tang of burnt flesh tinged the air, a painful reminder of the improvised medical care she was administering to cauterize a stab wound on his side.

The scene, though innocent in intention, was borderline scandalous in execution. With Lila straddling Diego, her hands on his bare skin, and his face inches from hers, any onlooker could easily misinterpret it—especially given the slight smirk tugging at Lila's lips.

Five cleared his throat, his expression morphing from bemusement to mild disdain as he assessed the scene. He let out a heavy, almost resigned sigh as he took in the scene. "Oh, he isn't dead," he muttered with a certain dry humor that only made the situation feel more absurd.

Lila's head shot up, a mischievous glint in her eye as she met Five's gaze with a smirk. "Disappointed?" she quipped.

Five stepped further into the room and crossed to the nearby table. The fresh cut from Pogo marred his neck, the crimson streak standing out starkly against his skin. He reached for a gauze pad and pressed it against the wound, wincing slightly at the sting as he stemmed the bleeding.

With a brief glance at Lila, who was watching him with undisguised amusement, Five raised an eyebrow. "Oh, to see you? Always." he replied. His tone laced with sarcasm as he leaned back against the doorframe beside (Y/n).

Lila's grin widened, her eyes sparking with a hint of mockery. "So much hostility in such a tiny package," she shot back, tilting her head as she let her gaze sweep over him. "Did you cut yourself shaving? I could teach you to shave like a big boy if you're having trouble," she said, leaning forward and tilting her soldering iron as if she might brandish it as a razor.

Five merely sighed, wiping the blood from his neck and inspecting the gauze, his jaw set in a slight, frustrated clench as he held her gaze with quiet disdain. "No, I just ran into an old family friend," he replied.