you were everything

I 10 I

☂ the kid wants coffee. Black ☂ 

The shop door creaks as several men enter.

I catch their appearance in the service bell. Tall, wearing black, and armed. Great.

Five seems unbothered by this, taking a sip of his coffee. Well, if he isn't worried then neither am I. I drain the last remnants of my drink, placing the cup back down.

'I wondered how long it would take you to find me,' Five says calmly. 'Thought I had longer.'

The men shuffle around behind us, and the sound of guns makes me want to turn around.

'Who the hell are you?' I demand.

'We don't want to hurt two kids,' One of the guys says. 'Going home with that on our conscience..' He shakes his head. 'There's no need for a struggle. We just want to talk.'

'I wouldn't worry about that,' Five says. 'You won't be going home.'

In a flash, he spacial jumps behind the guy, stabbing him with a butter knife. The other men start firing bullets in all different directions, not even close to hitting Five or me. I toss three of the men out the side window with the flick of my wrist, breaking the glass. It rains down onto the tables, crackling and breaking under my feet. I walk over to the exit, carelessly stopping the bullets with my fingers.

Five seems to be defending himself fine, killing everyone in his path. Within two minutes, they're all dead. The last one attempts to crawl away on the floor but Five stops him by snapping his neck.

Lovely.

'I had it under control,' Five says. 'You didn't have to get involved.'

'Where's my thank you?' I scoff as he sits back down.

Five ignores this, grabbing a knife from the counter. He points it at his wrist like he means to stab himself.

'What are you doing?'

'The tracker,' Five mutters, cutting a slit. 

'Wait, let me do that,' I shake my head, standing beside him.

'I said, I don't need your help,' Five huffs. 'You don't need to get involved.'

'Don't be insane,' I say, wrinkling my nose. 

He gives up, leaning back. With a grimace, I maneuver the tiny tracker out of his wrist, crumbling it to dust in the air. I neatly close the wound, wrapping it with a small piece of gauze from the random first aid kit under the counter.

'Thanks,' Five says reluctantly.

'Uh huh,' I wipe the blood off my hands with a cloth. 'Poor Agnes.' Craning my neck, I try to peer in the back. 'You think she's okay?'

'That's the least of our concerns right now,' Five says. 'There's no time to worry about her.' 

'Let me at least clean this place up.' I wave my arms, and throw the dead assassins out the broken window so they land in a pile. 'The cops will find them there.'

The overturned tables flip back to normal, but there's nothing I can do about the blood.

'Right, can we go now?' Five asks, perturbed.

'Oh, so now we're a 'we'?' I cross my arms. 'Okay then.'

A slightly sad expression crosses his face for just a moment before it's disguised by his usual 'I don't care' look.

'Whatever.'

With a sigh, Five turns and walks into the street.

'Where are you going now?'

'To see the only person I can trust.'