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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As soon as they got back Lena took a shower. She didn't care how hot the water was, she turned it as hot as it would go and just stood under the steady stream of steaming water, relishing in the feeling of it. The heat warmed her aching muscles, and ran over her slowly healing wounds that seemed to be healing a whole lot faster than they should have been. But then again, she knew that would happen. The commission had taught her well.
Perhaps it was the only thing they were good for.
Lena scrunched some of her hair dry with a towel after wrapping one around her body, and she couldnt help but find herself looking at her reflection blurred in the steamed up mirror.
She could feel this strange emptiness inside of her as she started thinking about the fate of the world, and then back to the commission. She knew that it was their last option to get in touch with them, but with how things were going, their last option might be put into action sooner than they thought.
She didn't know why, but she reached out and traced her fingers along the fogged up glass until a sad face was drawn. Two dots and a frown.
She blinked at her eyes that she could see in the clear part of the mirror and her head ached dully. She hastily wiped away at the condensation, erasing the sad picture, and change into loose black jeans and a blue and white striped shirt that hung loosely on her frame. She remained in that bathroom longer than she should have, just counting the tiles along the floor and tracing their pattern with her eyes until her headache worsened.
An hour later Lena was sitting on the window ledge, her healing leg dangling over the side and her other leg bent up to her chest, her arm resting on her knee. The window sat open and she concentrated on the cool breeze that fluttered across her skin. She focused on that instead of what Five was currently doing.
There were chalk markings over every inch of his walls, and it took her back to the apocalypse.
"You have good handwriting?"
"I guess..."
"Good. I think faster than i can write."
His eyes flickered across the surfaces as he stood on his bed to circle something on the wall, and Lena did her best to keep her face neutral. He knew she didn't feel good about their options.
It's at that moment that Luther walked in, and his stunned eyes follow the writing on the walls, as Five absently muttered along to himself.
"Okay, I think I've got something. Its tenuous, but promising."
Lena looked at the equations he was looking at.
"Decimal place." She reminded him quietly.
He quickly saw his mistake and added the dot.
"What is all this?" Luther asks, shooting Lena a look. She shook her head and looked away, eyes tracing the circle he just drew around four names.
