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Forty-three || Can We Blow Up Your Apartment, Thanks

Hey, guys, what's up?

I updated on time! Whoop whoop!

That was lame, I'm sorry.

Aaaaanyway, how's life?

Good I hope. So for once, I don't have any rants. That's weird. I speak three languages: English (barely), complete and utter BS (I'm great in that), and then I also fluently speak the oh so delicate language of complaining. Seriously, I'm so pessimistic it's awful. But whatever.

So, (((((LONG))))) chapter goes to kkra4100, because they're pretty snazzy, they comment (which is rad) and they're just generally really awesome and nice, so be cool to them. (not that you wouldn't, but okay)

OOOOH so that just gave me something to tel you guys. It's pretty embarrassing so if you want to laugh at me read this. Anyway, have you guys seen that danisnotonfire vid about ironically liking things and whatnot? Yeah, well I just realized I do that. I used to say rad and totally and do peace signs as the equivalent of hello and I constantly give people that weird click and finger guns thing? You know that? I used to do those as a joke but now I've come to horrible realization that I ACTUALLY DO THOSE THINGS NOW and they're like a big part of my personality and it's kind of disgusting and awful and I'm such an awkward human being ohmygod. I'm so weird. Like, people will say hi to me and it takes me a full three seconds to respond, and it's either with a peace sign or a snap and point and ugh I'm sorry if I ever gave you the illusion that I was cool.

Anyway, that's it. Hope you guys have a generally good existence, nice night/day, awesome Monday (ugh, I know, I'm sorry). I hope my updating on Sunday helps with that awful dread feeling and doesn't make it worse, sorry.

Okay, okay, I'm done. Enjoy!

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Echoes of sirens chase each other across the walls of the alley. The cop - Jen - takes a step towards us, her eyes doing a quick three sixty of the area.

Coal shifts his feet, moving between her and me. His hands - although by his side - are restless as ever, fingers drumming on his thigh, fists clenching and unclenching.

"Thank you," I repeat, tapping Coal on the back. He takes a long breath, face still set, features carved in a stony expression. I gently shoulder past him, wincing as my leg burns with pain.

"You got shot," Jen says uncertainly, even though it's quite obvious that blood is streaming down my leg. Her expression is similar to Coal's, eyes reluctant and unsure.

"I'll manage," I say. "Do you know the fastest way out of the city?"

She glances up at me, curls bouncing with the movement. "You can't run like that." she says.

I shrug with one shoulder. I can actually. It'll hurt like hell, but I've done it before.

"I'll manage," I repeat. "I don't want to cause you any more trouble, ma'am -"

"Jen," she corrects, looking down as a hand goes to the back of her neck.

"Jen," I say. "Look, the less you know about us, the better."

A look of pain crosses Jen's face as she debates with herself. Coal keeps shifting his weight between his feet, muscles coiled and ready for anything.

"No," Jen says, muttering half to herself. "I can't just let you leave, you're shot and bleeding and you're kids." She looks up. "My husband is a doctor, he can check your leg once he gets back from the hospital. Our apartment is only a block or two away."