26 March 2019

When Five woke the next morning, it was to the feeling of a few aches & pains that he usually associated with being struck by a wayward bullet. Standing in front of his bedroom mirror, he spared a few moments to roll back his sleeve and stitch up the wound he had somehow acquired the night before in his tussle with Hazel & Cha-Cha. Five was just glad that the wound was more or less clean cut, despite still being rather tender (although, mercifully, there appeared to be no signs of infection) even as he slapped a butterfly-themed bandaid over the messy butterfly stitches.

Shrugging his (stolen/borrowed) clothes back on, Five grabbed the duffle bag which Dolores had been stuffed into the night before, and ever so carefully placed her back inside. Mindless of his bedhead, the time travelling assassin then shoved himself out of the window, just as he had done when they were kids, and began to scale the fire escape in his attempt to avoid the rest of the household & their questions. It was just his luck that he came across Klaus digging through the dumpster like some stoned street rat.

"…so that Pogo will get off my ass!" Klaus growled as he tossed some sort of half-eaten container over his shoulder. Eyeing the pile already forming on the ground next to the receptacle, Five quirked an unimpressed brow and scrunched his nose up at the stench as he jumped from the last rung of the ladder.

("I told you not to take it" Ben replied smugly).

"Y'know, I could really do without your sass!" Klaus retorted as he childishly chucked a broken fork in the direction of the ghost. As per usual, it simply sailed straight through him and clattered against the fire escape on the other side.

"I'd ask what you're up to, Klaus" Five hummed snidely, unable to resist commenting on his brother's habits as he dodged the bent fork thrown in his direction. "But then it just occurred to me; I don't care"

"Hey~!" Klaus laughed as he popped up, jerking to attention as he stood knee-deep in the stinking rubbish, "Y'know there are easier ways out of the house, buddy?"

"This one involved the least amount of talking" Five hummed as he shoved his hands into his pockets, "Or so I thought"

"Hey, hey, hey, so…d'you need any more company today?" Klaus rushed out as he leant up against the lip of the dumpster, taking a swig from a flask that he had procured from the depths of his pocket. "I could, uh…clear my schedule"

"Looks like you've already got your hands pretty full" Five sneered.

"Oh this? No, no, no! I can do this whenever. I'm just looking—" His brother slipped & fell on his ass, falling further into the dumpster with an almighty crash. Although that didn't stop his voice from still echoing out, "—I just misplaced something. That's all…oh! I found it! Thank God!"

("Klaus!" Ben warned, eyeing up his brother and the mouldy bagel. "Don't you dare!")

Scrambling back to his feet, Klaus reappeared with an old sock curled up in his hair (not that he appeared to care) and a half-eaten bagel in his hand. A brief grimace flashed across his features before he shrugged and took a large bite out of the offending (and slightly fuzzy) bagel, in an effort to keep up his charade. Klaus never had been one to do things by halves. "…Delicious" He winced, holding the morsel of food in his cheek as even he refused to swallow it.

("You're disgusting" Ben deadpanned).

"…I'm done funding your drug habit" Five stated, turning to leave with a look of disgust colouring his features.

"C'me on! You don't-!" Klaus cried in protest, "Maybe I just wanna hang out with my brother!"

("What am I? Chopped liver?" Ben glared at Klaus, "I'm right here!").

"I wasn't talking to you" Klaus chucked over his shoulder to the ghost boy perched on the edge of the overhanging fire escape, legs threaded through the railing as he watched his brother root around.

("Thanks Klaus, really feeling the love")

"Mi Hermano! I love you! Even if you can't love yourself…!"

But Five just ignored him, instead he disappeared off down the alley with a roll of his eyes and whisper-quiet feet. Spitting out the chunks of bagel that lingered in his mouth, Klaus could only sit and stare, watching as Five snuck over to the wayward plumber's van at the end of the alley; one which had stupidly been left unattended whilst the driver chatted with some old lady (clearly a customer) who stood nearby. And just like that, Five left once more, this time serenaded by the angered shout of the driver as Five drove off; the stolen van ricocheting around the corner & jumping up onto the curb.

The second day of the work studies project turned out to be far less interesting than the day before had been, although the journey to the medical building had been spotted with bits and pieces that peeked Theodore's interest. Whilst Lillian Andrews remained glued to her phone, earphones barely clinging to her ears and Sheryl Topp & Christopher Hemmings who had been giggling over whichever meme was currently plastered across their phones, as the group traversed the path from school to the medical building. At least until they reached the corner of the street where some sort of crowd had formed outside of the Gimble Brothers Thrift Store.

Police cars ignited the thrift store in red & blue flashing lights and the bustle of daytime cops that flowed to & fro from the store, had gathered a small crowd of gawking pedestrians. All around the perimeter, both LANE Keepers and cops circled the area, searching for any trace of the perpetrators or witnesses that had been left behind. From what Theodore could ascertain through the gaps of people in the crowd and the cardboard cutouts cellotaped to the windows in an attempt to shield the crime scene, armed officials swarmed the crime scene like ants to a cake. Bullet holes lay riddled throughout the store, decapitated mannequins had toppled off of their stands and blood splattered the ground like a Jackson Pollock painting.

It couldn't be…could it? Theodore swallowed hard, his thoughts reverberated throughout his skull as he recalled the supposed LANE sighting at Griddy's Doughnuts and Don Fën's subsequent house call.

"…Think about it!" Christopher gushed, brown eyes scanning over the police-taped carnage. "Why else would a LANE light up a thrift store, if no one was in it?"

"Because they're complete and utter assholes?" Lilian offered, only half listening to whatever it was their classmate was saying. Meanwhile, Theodore tried hard to swallow the growl that bubbled up inside.

"But you saw the blood in there too, Lily!" Christopher rounded on the girl, "There was definitely someone in there!"

"It could've been a burglar or an employee…" Sheryl retorted weakly.

"What? No way! It was a LANE! I'm telling you!"

"C'me on, man, LANEs are complete and utter psychos that are motivated by greed & power, but they're not senseless. That's kinda the whole point of the rehab centres!"

"What? D'ya think there's more of them in town?" Lilian worried, suddenly paying full attention to the conversation.

"Then why would they pick a thrift store to hide in?"

Because you would pick any place to hide if that meant the LANE Keepers would leave you alone. Theodore bit his lip in anxiety. His thoughts sounded like they were coming from experience, rather speculation.

"…Oi! Hargreeves! Hemmings! Andrews! Topp!" Mr Bergman called from the curb where he stood beneath the blinking pedestrian light. "Hurry up!"

"Coming sir!" They chorused as the purple-encrusted students hurried to catch up with their impatient teacher. Theodore was just glad that he hadn't stumbled over his words, or outwardly shown just how shaken he was by the scene; that would invite questions for sure. It wasn't that he had a stutter, mind you, it was just that he was terrible at talking to people—or in general. Typically, as a general rule, he would ignore someone or reply with only one-word answers or in nods, grimaces and forced smiles until he deemed them safe enough (like he'd done with Helga). And as Milton oft times said, he was a paranoid bastard, but there was also a small bit of anxiety and shyness that bled into it as well. Of course, he liked to think that his actions were justified, given the climate/world he'd grown up in.

There was a plumbing van parked out in the carpark across the street when the St Greg's students had arrived at Meritech Industries that morning; which wouldn't have been unusual except for the fact that Don Fën sat in the driver's seat alongside a smartly dressed mannequin woman, likely one from Gimble Brothers, if he had to guess. The plum-coloured van was certainly used or at least secondhand, with its dust and dirt covering most of its surface; save for the Rocco & Family Plumbing: Drain & Toilet Specialists. (Residential & Commercial) engraved on to the side.

From what he could see, Don had lined the dashboard with layers of old papers and receipts (although if the van was stolen, as he suspected it was, they were probably left there by the original owner). In fact, the only thing that Don Fën seemed to have added was a well-read copy of Vera's book plus several bottles of half-drunken booze that lined the dashboard and whatever else he had hidden away. "I thought I told them I don't need a babysitter" Theodore grumbled to himself, looking out of the window & down at the van in question as he sorted through Dr Big's personal filing cabinet (it was in dire need of an organisation) to the soothing sounds of the radio playing over the loudspeakers. "Though, he did seem pretty adamant about that eye thing, the other day…I wonder if he ever found the owner?"

A few moments later, Theodore was pulled from his thoughts as he watched in amusement as the van down below turned into a clown car. Don Klaus & Don Luther had appeared from a side street and strode towards the van like men on a mission—or Don Luther was, Don Klaus just seemed to be trying to keep up with his long strides—Either way, the scene of the two reminded Theodore of that meme he'd seen about the chihuahua trying to keep up with the doberman. Theodore's smile only grew as he watched Don Luther try to stuff his very large self in through the tiny passenger side door, whilst Don Klaus easily slipped in through the rear.

The plum tin can rattled as Don Luther heaved & hawed, until finally he was able to haul himself inside the vehicle and Theodore's brief entertainment was cut off as Dr Big passed by the room, peering disdainfully over at the student hunched over his filing cabinet. No sooner had the doctor sailed past, did Theodore's pager go off.

BEEP~BEEP!

Dr. L.B.

FETCH MORNING TEA.

NO CASHEWS

"Seriously?!" Theodore growled under his breath, "This guy couldn't go do that himself?"

Apparently being a big deal meant that you could do as you pleased, that or the doctor was just a major asshole who like to abuse the power granted to him. Theodore was leaning towards the latter one. A little sour at the notion of being used as an errand boy (most likely out of pettiness, if that vindictive smirk earlier had been anything to go by. Ever since Theodore had brought both of his dons to see the doctor, he had been plying the twelve year old with the most menial jobs he could think of, short of scrubbing the toilet), Theodore journeyed over to the corner store across the street from the medical building.