Elena Romero was born on the 1st of October, 1989. Elena's superpower, she had discovered, was not keeping her dysfunctional family together. It was, in fact, keeping herself together. She could miraculously heal all of her injuries. All except one...
"Did you order milk?" "No! Of course I didn't order milk at a party. I'm not a child!" "Then what's with the milkman?"
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Elena ducked under the rope cordoning off the stairs to keep guests from snooping and tiptoed up the stairs after Five. She was careful to keep just enough distance form him that he didn't see her but not too much distance that she couldn't keep up with him. It didn't stop him from teleporting inside a locked room and leaving Elena stranded on the other side of the locked door.
"Great," she groaned, "Guess I'm camping outside then," she complained to herself and slumped down against the wall and down onto the floor.
When Five teleported back into the hallway, Elena scrambled to her feet, having been waiting in the corridor for so long she had actually forgotten she wasn't supposed to let Five see her. Oops.
"You took your sweet time," she said casually, keeping her cool to attempt to have the upper hand. She stood up slowly and brushed down her definitely not stolen dress and looked him dead in the eye.
He stared back at her, his hood eyes even more furrowed in confusion. He blinked a couple of times and Elena could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he pieced together the mystery of how she was standing before him and not lying dead in a grave. Or should she say burned up in a theatre...?
"Elena?" he said at last. Elena smiled.
"Surprise!"
"You're not dead," he stated simply, the look of confusion fading away into his usual compose, if slightly manic, normal expression.
"No," she agreed, thinking that was obvious but clarifying non the less, "Don't tell your brother," she added quickly as an afterthought, flashing a sheepish smile.
"Which one?" Five asked cockily, raising an eyebrow.
"Diego," Elena added as if it were obvious, "But don't tell Klaus either. I want it to come from me."
"How did you find me?" Five asked, tugging at the bottom of his blazer that he was quickly growing out of and walking away from her down the corridor, peering into each door he passed.
"Don't flatter yourself," Elena said, shaking her head, "You're easy to find. You just track everything that's going wrong and you're at the centre."
"How did you not die?" he asked, stopped sharply in his tracks and whirling around to face her, taking a step forward to staring her dead in the eye.
Elena opened her mouth but failed to answer his question. She looked away from, over his shoulder back down the corridor, looking to the staircase.
"Did you order milk?"
"What?" Five frowned, "No! Of course I didn't order milk at a party. I'm not a child."
"Then what's with the milkman?" Elena asked, pointing over Five's shoulder to where a very blonde man was standing in an all white, apparently milkman's uniform. The man stared at both of them, just staying standing at the top of the stairs. But the cold, lifeless expression he held in his eyes failed to fill Elena with much confidence that he was harmless.
