[outside griddy's donut shop–thursday, midday]
"FIVE!" JORDAN shouted, running forwards. He himself fell, unsteady on his feet. His knees lost skin, and blood welled up. Jordan didn't even notice; he was more concerned about the ghastly shade Five's skin was. "Five?"
"Oh my God!" someone shrieked. Jordan's head whirled around to see a middle-aged woman in a waitress uniform, her eyes wide and hand over her heart. A garbage bag had fallen from her grip and lay on the concrete.
"Sorry, we didn't mean to intrude on your alley," Jordan blurted.
"What? No! Are you two alright?" The woman rushed ahead, bending down and pressing her hand against Five's forehead. Jordan was tense, his hand curling around the other boy's wrist.
"Yeah, we're fine."
"No, you're not! Come inside, please. We close early Sunday's anyways." The woman stood up, brushing her skirt off. "Wait just a moment."
Jordan waited until the door swung shut. Then, he wrapped Five's arm around his neck and struggled to his feet, a few drops of blood trickling down his leg. He winced at the pain that seemed to come from everywhere—he still hadn't completely recovered from using his powers to much two days ago—but then the lady came back.
"Please, come inside. I'll take a look at your friend and we can call someone."
"No," Jordan said.
"What?"
"We can't call anyone. We can't." Jordan was tapping his foot anxiously, looking for somewhere to run. There really wasn't anyplace to go; he was trapped. Five was unconscious.
Fuck.
"That's fine. Just...please, come inside." she pleaded.
Under normal circumstances, Jordan wouldn't go inside the shop. If a middle-aged anyone is asking you to hop inside their closed restaurant, it's normally a flashing red stop sign.
Except, Five looks like he might be dying. Jordan feels like it himself.
"Okay," he gives in, and the woman's face relaxes with relief. She holds the door open for Jordan, and it closes behind them with a pleasant twinkle of a bell.
~{}~
Jordan watches her carefully as she walks over, one hand resting protectively on Five's head; the boy was laying on a booth, his head resting in Jordan's lap. He hadn't woken up yet.
"Here," she says, placing a ornate plate with a fluffy donut in front of him. "I know it's not healthy, but..." she waves around helplessly. It's true; the donut shop is filled with the treats. It's not a huge surprise.
"It's fine," Jordan mumbles, and he starts to nibble the treat. The amount of calories in donuts seemed to scream at him. It was too much.
His stomach grumbled.
"I'm Agnes," the woman said. She stared at him expectantly.
"Uh, I'm...Jake. This is...Fred." Jordan sighs at himself; of course the only names he can think of are fucking Jake and Fred. Who the hell names their kid Fred nowadays?
"Are you sure?" Agnes arches an eyebrow. Jordan nods and takes a small bite out of the donut.
"So, Jake, can you tell me about what happened to you and Fred here?"
Jordan stayed quiet while he thought of an answer that didn't involve talking monkeys, moms, evil dads, and being held captive in your own house. Oh, and the whole Commission-Tried-To-Kill-Us, because then that leads into the apocalypse, and then that reveals a bunch of stuff Jordan isn't in the mood to explain to Agnes.
"We got in a fight," Jordan said. Agnes uttered little oh. "Yeah," he went on. "It–It was going well, and then, uh, they started winning? They knocked Fi–Fred out, and now we're here."
"That's rather simple," Agnes replied. "Why don't we call your parents, and then see if they'd like you and little Fred here taken to the hospital."
"No!" Jordan jumped a little, and Agnes gave him a Look. "I mean, I don't know their numbers."
"Oh," Agnes adjusted her skirt. "Then, please let me just take you to the hospital."
"We can't do that either, ma'am."
"Why not?"
Jordan didn't answer. Agnes huffed.
"Fine, then. You can stay here for a couple of hours, and if you haven't decided to go to the hospital, then I can't make you. But I'd highly recommend it. I have to go clean up." Agnes left, disappearing into the back.
Jordan sighed in relief, looking down at Five. He thought of Sleeping Beauty; with a scoff at the absurd thought, he leaned down and brushed his lips against the other's.
Nothing happened, of course. Jordan sighed again and muttered a sorry to the other boy before running his fingers through his hair.
He really just needed a nap; the sleep he'd gotten at the Hargreeves, although one of the best he'd ever had, was restless and wary. Grace's vagueness at the murder of the nannies freaked him out.
Eventually, he fell asleep, his head resting on the back of the booth. His mouth opened slightly, one hand resting in Five's.
Agnes sighed from behind the counter and started wiping down the tables.
A/N:
it's agnes!! yay!!
anywho, sorry this chapter was pretty short. i hope you liked it anyways, though. i mean, agnes showed up! woohoo!!
have a lovely day!!