𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ━ five hargreeves

11│. . .MAKES ONE WEAK

"Have fun being dead then."

"Thanks, I won't."

Lola sighed, "you're impossible, you know that right? I can't in very good conscience leave you to die."

"No one's asking you to help," Five shot back, "I'm not gonna undo months of work just to add another person to my travel."

"Work? What work? You literally just said nothing's worked."

"Just because it hasn't worked yet doesn't mean it won't. Besides, I can repurpose the equations."

"You need me," she insisted, "even I can admit that this last week was nearly impossible alone. How're you gonna solve your equations if you go insane?"

"I don't need you," the boy scoffed, "and it's not helping your case that you sound like my father. I already hear him— I don't need your nagging as well."

She paused. "What d'you mean you already hear him?" Was he going crazy already?

"It doesn't matter," he tried to brush it off, "clearly our partnership isn't going to work so you don't need to stay."

Lola frowned, not willing to give up on him that easily. Even if he was the most irritating person she'd ever met, he was all she had left of humanity and he was injured. "How'd you hurt your leg?" she decided on asking again.

He huffed, "you don't give up easily, do you? Fine, I was surprised by a piece of metal—"

"Metal?" she asked, and her voice pitched higher, "that means you're probably bleeding—"

"—and there's nothing we can do about it. I don't see a doctor's office anywhere and the rudimentary doctor skills I have aren't going to help, either."

Was there anything he couldn't do? she smirked slightly, oh yeah, time travel back. Lola shook off the thought. "Well, you're in luck 'cause I have a bit more experience than you do."

Five's voice held visible surprise when he said, "you do?"

"Not in practice, but I've read quite a few survival books—"

He rolled his eyes. "I knew it. You can't trust them, you know—"

"Not fictional ones, you idiot. Actual guides, out of interest," she turned and pointed to a relatively large piece of rubble. "Sit."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope. Even if you don't accept my deal I'd rather one of us gets back alive."

With another exaggerated breath, Five made his way to the indicated place. He sat down and crossed his arms while he avoided her gaze. Lola knelt next to his leg and carefully pulled the cloth of the torn sock away to reveal a slightly bloody, not-too-comfortable looking gash. She sucked in a breath.

"What's the verdict, doc? Am I going to live?"

Out of all the times he tries to be funny.

"You'll live, I think. Hold on." Remembering what she'd read, Lola wiped her hands as best she could on her clothes— not that it did much good as they were as filthy as the rest of her— in an effort to clean her hands since she didn't want to waste precious water.

"Have you applied pressure?"

"What do you think, that I'm an idiot?"

"Well, you are the injured one."

"Of course I applied pressure."

The brunette rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the injury, gently poking at it with her fingers. To his credit, the boy didn't so much as wince, although it surely couldn't have been painless.