Rainy Days

Chapter Nineteen: Whoopsie-Doopsie?

[sun creek walmart–sunday afternoon]

FIVE PULLED on the jeans, his seemingly permanent frown increasing. He turned in the mirror, glaring at his reflection.

He almost wanted to keep the uniform, but it was dirty and God knows he needed new clothes. He'd never really had any of his own, and he didn't know what to look for.

He should've asked someone.

Letting out a huff, he took the jeans off and folded them neatly, pulling on a different pair. He only had one shirt that he liked and fit well—a plain black tee.

These jeans where a washed-out gray, a rip in the left knee and another on the right thigh. The air was chilly on the bare skin. Sadly, as much as he wanted to avoid them, they where comfortable as fuck. And he needed pants.

He let out a small puff of breath and slipped his shirt off, grabbing a long-sleeved shirt that advertised some band. Damn. This was nice too.

He stared at himself in the mirror, frown softening as he did. He almost looked like a teenager, in this shirt for Green Day and gray ripped jeans.

He opted for seeing how comfortable these clothes truly where, pulling out a pair of Chuck Taylors, almost an identical pair to what Jordan wore. Only these ones weren't held together with tape.

As soon as he tied the laces, lights turned off. His head whirled up, eyes darting around.

Overhead, the speaker crackled.

"Hello, friends," a voice, vaguely familiar started giggling. "So sorry if you aren't...Jordan Reel."

It clicked off. Outside, people started screaming. Gunshots echoed.

Five leapt forwards, not even bothering with the door, appearing in the vegetable section.

"Holy shit!" He shrieked, dropping behind the strawberries.

People with guns. A shit ton of people with guns.

Shoppers where crying as bullets fired off, most of them dropping to the ground. Blood sprayed, and the men guns where shouting to each other.

"Jordan?" Five yelled, wondering what he should do; find the boy, or stop these attackers? Find the boy, stop attackers?

"Jordan, where are you!"

When a toddler—the same one who had been throwing a tantrum—fell to the ground, blood flying from her forehead, father falling on top of her, Five decided to fuck it. He grabbed the first thing close to him.

"Hey dickface!" The armed man turned, and fell in surprise when the cucumber hit him in the face.

The speaker crackled again and that voice echoed over the bullets: "Ha! Lovely aim, dude! Background music, anyone?"

A song that Five was vaguely sure was by Justin Bieber started playing.

"What the fuck!" Five screamed, dodging a bullet.

There was another giggle, and then Five was shot at, bullet whizzing just overhead. Something burst across his face, tearing skin and sending a searing pain through his cheek. He ducked behind the cookies, pressing fingers to the wound, swearing when his hand came away wet with blood.

"We've gotta find him!" One man shouted.

"Find him, my ass," Five said, rolling into a somersault and appearing in the deli.

A few scared employees gaped at him. "I'll take that," he plucked a knife off a counter and waved, jumping back through space and landing next to one gunman.

"What the hell—"

"Sorry!" Five said gleefully before stabbing him in the neck. One of them punched him suddenly in the arm, but Five leaned over and stabbed him back.

Attracted by the screaming, three turned and started to shoot at him, but he merely jumped over to the cash register, wincing when he stepped on a dead cashiers hand.

"Over here!"

Five looked up and saw the gun, eyes widening as the finger pulled the trigger, the bang of the gun, preparing for the bullet to hit, and—

The man shrieked as a torrent of water flew into him, knocking him into the ground where he spluttered and crawled towards his gun, which was being carried away by the liquid.

"The fuck?" Five said, eyes still wide. He shook off the surprise and ran from his cover, immediately being tackled. He raised the knife before a hand grabbed it tightly.

"Jordan?" Five gaped, staring at the boy who lay on top of him, a bruise forming under his eye and several cuts dripping blood. When Jordan smiled, he revealed a mouthful of blood.

"Can we go?" Jordan yelled as the gunman noticed them. "I'm not into death."

Five didn't say anything, just ripped his hand from Jordan's grasp, threw the knife at the closet enemy, and grabbed Jordan, pulling him through space at back to collapse in the living room.

~

Luther and Klaus stood up, eyes wide.

"What the fuck happened at Walmart?" Klaus asked.

A/N:

Ugh I'm sorry I suck so bad at writing action I'm trying I swear
Anywhoozle, thank you guys so damn fucking much for 4K reads and over 300 votes!!!!! It hasn't even been three months and this story has been received so much more than I ever imagined; at most, I figured I'd get like 500 reads and 20 votes. You guys have literally helped me so much, just with your votes and comments and even just your reads. So thank you guys a whole fuckin lot
Besides that, thanks for reading this (terrible) chapter! I hope you enjoyed it, and don't forget to leave a vote/comment if you did!

Have a lovely day!