A pyromantic wife and a spacial jumping husband face the dawn of a dead tomorrow; but what did it matter so long as they were hand in bloody hand?
As Lena Flores attempted to save the world, it all began to collapse in on them and they began to won...
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Lena was sat with her back against the side of Five's bed, her good leg crossed underneath her and the other outstretched on the floor.
Her bandages had been changed and she had quickly changed out of the blood stained clothes into something fresher. A pair of cargos that didn't irritate her bandages, a black top and a red jacket was what she had chosen. She found a shitty pack of tiny hair ties in the bag that Five must have snuck in the night before and pulled two parts of her hair into pigtails, puffing out the strands in little sections and separating it with the bands all the way down, the rest of her hair falling loose underneath.
Although she had been stabbed and shot literally last night, she was feeling more awake with some seriously strong painkillers in her system. (Thanks to Grace.)
Five was still on edge about the whole ordeal even if he attempted to hide it from her. She could tell by how he busied himself with little jobs, jotting things down in a notebook or pacing the floor to avoid the silence.
Lena had accepted his apology for locking the door but in Five's mind, he had fucked up and he was ashamed. It was something he didn't like facing. Evening he acted fine she could see it in his eyes.
And even though her temperature would skyrocket every so often to the point she had to splash her face with cold water or perch by the open window, she did her best to push the incident from her mind.
Finally, Five turned to grab the black duffel bag from beside her, and she heard something clink as he lifted it.
Her eyes shot to the bag but she chose not to question it.
"You ready?" He asked.
She nodded and accepted his hand as he helped pull her up. She tested putting weight on her right leg and cringed at the pang of pain that shot upwards, but continued nonetheless. The painkillers had dulled it a bit and she was used to pain. Her entire profession was built on it. She had done jobs with worse.
She inhaled slowly as he approached his window of all things, crossing her arms.
He climbed out with the bag on his back and she slowly approached.
"You know doors exist?" She looked down at him, clinging to the fire escape below. He gave her a shrug and continued climbing down, so she sighed and carefully followed him, very much aware of her injuries.
Climbing down a ladder with one working leg was odd, to say the least, but she had done stranger things.
But what was more odd, as they both slowly made their way down closer to the alleyway floor, was the rustling in the dumpster nearby. Her ears tuned into the end of a sentence as she lowered herself more.
"-so that Pogo will get off my ass!"
Lena furrowed her eyebrows and glanced down to see Klaus standing inside the dumpster amidst the rubbish, looking frantically for something. She didnt even want to know. She assumed he was talking to someone they didn't have the ability to see, as the alley was completely empty save for them, whom he had yet to notice.
