Gina - 1st

"Not if we drive it into a ditch, or a lake or-wherever! And abandon it there!" She yelled. Then sighed and released her fists. God this guy is such a scaredy cat. "Look. I'll take care of it. I will. Okay?" She asked him in a calm matter, hoping he would calm down himself. She knew how to jump around from place to place-how to borrow car after car. And if there was anything important or life-saving that she learned-it was how to destroy the evidence.

"And what are we going to do, walk the rest of the way?" he scoffed to himself, knowing full well that the younger woman could simply get rid of the car by herself (but he wouldn't want to admit the fact that he didn't want her to do that very thing...He didn't want to be alone, even if he was just planning on sleeping). He was dead tired, cold to the touch, everywhere ached, throbbing, pulsing in his ears, and their volume didn't help in the slightest. The city alone had been overwhelming, the looks he received piercing, the scent of refuse and cigarettes so strong he could taste it. Absolutely every sense was assaulted as another bout of nausea hit him.

When her voice softened, he took a moment, her voice still ringing in his ears. Crumpling into his own lap, he moaned a lengthy sorry before finally passing out. No matter how silly he thought this girl, he would have to entrust himself to her. It no longer mattered how out of control he felt.

"H-hey..." She called out to him, but he was already unconscious. She sighed and stared at him. He looked so...defenseless. She reached her hand out and cautiously touched his hair, tucking some of it behind his ear. It had gotten all messy with all their running around, his pony tail looked like it was coming loose. His sleeping face looked so peaceful. She reached over and took off his glasses, gently placing them in a space under the dashboard. Suddenly she blushed as she remembered where she was. What on earth am I doing? She needed to get out there quick before the owner of the vehicle showed up.

***

Gina had found the motel all by herself. She just hoped the lady at the register didn't ask too many questions about the blood on Allen's clothes. "Hi there." She smiled, "We need a room. This guy here got a bit too carried away at the bar-can't handle his liquor." She said lightly, referring to Allen who was slumped around her shoulders. Maybe she could pass off the dark red coloring as wine.

Gina received the room key and laid Allen down on one of the beds. She would go take care of the car later-after she took care of this dolt. She felt his forehead with the palm of her head-he was sweltering. His injured arm probably didn't help the case very much either. I hope he doesn't have an infection...She went to the bathroom for a wet washcloth to wipe him down with. She unfastened the top buttons of his shirt and wiped down his chest and neck with the cool cloth in hopes that his fever might start to go down some.

Allen groggily woke up and moaned, refusing to open his eyes. Just why did he have to be awake? Unsure of the time, let alone his location (it smelled funny...grungy, like his childhood family vacations), he let those facts slip. Where ever he was, he was surely safe enough. That, or there was nothing else he could do about it. Maybe they'd infected him. Is that what this felt like? he asked himself. Was he just about to be executed? Somehow that came as a bit of a relief. He'd always been too much of a coward to purposefully commit a cardinal offense, and now he was sick to the point they wouldn't want to deal with him. Perfect. No disgrace, a merciful death.

Gina heard him moaning, "Hm?" She tilted her head questioningly. Then she lightly slapped his cheeks with her hand, "Oi! You awake?" She asked him, wondering if he was just mumbling something in his sleep.

Allen's eyes shot open in shock. That's right, he wasn't in the facility anymore; he was in what was likely some cheap motel. That just meant he had to deal with this as it was. His shoulder, his numb arm, this fever. All with what was likely little to no medication in places that could hardly be considered sanitary. Just fantastic. Slowly but surely, he pushed himself up against the headboard with his good arm, croaking, "Water." His throat was so dry and the fact that he was sweating the rest of his hydration probably didn't help him all too much.

"Alright, alright." Gina responded. She didn't see anything that would serve well as a cup so that she could just get a glass of tap water. Cheapskates she thought as she got a bottle of water from the mini fridge and handed it to him. "I'm gonna go see if I can find something to eat around here, you'll be okay here by yourself right? Don't-you know...blow the place up or anything while I'm gone." She winked as she headed to the door, "You want anything while I'm out?"

Allen accepted the bottle and immediately drained half of it, setting the remainder on the nightstand uncapped. Sliding back down into the bed, he watched the colorful blob that was Gina shrink. She must have been moving away. Don't blow up the place? I thought that was your job. Did he want anything? "Clothes! Drugs!" he chirped, promptly falling back asleep.

Gina rolled her eyes, Yeah, right. If I knew where to get drugs I'd already have taken some by now. He was right about one thing though: they did need new clothes. She strolled out around the motel passing by vending machines which she made sure to take note of for when they needed to cut back on money spending. At least I get to keep the car she smiled, even though without the GPS it would be a bit difficult to find stores. Maybe I'll ask the front desk.

After getting instructions at the front desk she drove to the nearest convenient store and scanned the prices of the items there, hoping to find something cheap and doable. The motel was cheaper. She tried to look for some medical supplies that might help Allen in his state but all she could find were some painkillers. Well, I suppose these are a form of drugs, right? Gina gathered cheap items the motel didn't have to offer when she stopped and stared with a big grin on her face. Beer. One little treat won't hurt, will it?
Plus she had some of her fake i.d.s on here, just in case. She picked one that said, 'Isabella Perswayze.' She exited with a couple plastic bags in her hand...

Hm...clothes huh? She thought as she wandered out the store. Across the street looked like a shop that sold clothes accessories. She pulled out a small compact from one of her pockets, but something else fell onto the floor. "Huh?" She bent down to pick up whatever it was that fell and...glasses. Crap. I forgot I still had these, she picked Allen's glasses back up and stuffed them back into her pocket. She focused her attention back to the compact where it had images of various clothes where the mirror part would have been on a normal make-up compact. All she had to do was select an outfit (not that she had very many) and presto chango-the clothes would appear before her. It was an easy way to carry clothes around which was very useful when it came to jumping around from place to place all the time. She sighed and looked at the store, I guess we can get him some clothes...She thought as she headed in, intending to get Allen a compact carrier for himself. And I suppose a few new outfits couldn't hurt...

Groaning, Allen cursed his consciousness. He still ached, and it seemed like he had a fever now, too. Jogging his memory, he could only vaguely remember so far as getting into a car, the rest nothing but a blur. I must have passed out...And she took me here...Oh no, does that mean she had to carry me in here...I'd better apologize...

Feeling the blanket that was suffocating his body with humidity, he realized that it was the cheap, plastic fiber blend that was most commonly used for such occasions (guaranteeing that the wash would remove a bit more of the human secretions that this bed has surely seen). The room smelled funny, and just by the blurry colors alone, he could tell that the wallpaper was more than terrible.

Pushing himself up, he kicked the blanket to the side and sighed. No matter how he tried, he couldn't remove the sheets. To his relief, the lights were on. Gina had to be up, right? "Gina," he called softly, unsure of how thin the walls were or what time of the day it was. No response came. "Gina?" he tried again, a little louder, more insistent this time. Did she just leave him here? Panicking, Allen smashed his good hand against the nightstand, knocking over the bottle of water. Ignoring it, he continued until he had also displaced the motel's alarm clock (which scraped behind the back of the nightstand) and launched the complementary pen and already water-logged paper set. "Gina, where are my glasses?" No response. "Gina, this isn't funny. I literally can't see a thing without them."

Attempting to get out of bed, Allen tumbled to the ground, tripping in the sheets that just wouldn't forsake their grasp on him. The water bottle crunched underneath him, further dampening his shirt. Legs tangled in the mess, Allen moaned as his shoulder immediately protested, having been the prime recipient of the falling blow. He felt a rip, like something that had dried over was forced open once more. Sucking back air, he clenched his teeth and curled into himself on the floor. "Gina..." he whined, feeling blood seep through his once-white shirt.

Maybe she'd taken his glasses and abandoned him here. That was far too cruel. How could she do such a thing? Kicking off the sheets, Allen pulled himself up using his bed. Venturing to the other bed, he patted along the still-made sheets. She wasn't here...But there was another bed. Surely she'd intended to stay the night, right? She wouldn't just leave him...Unless, well, if she left, and he was to pay the bill, it wouldn't matter what size room she had gotten. Exhausted, he stumbled around the room with uncertain legs. "Cut it out, this isn't a game...Gina..."

Making his way to the bathroom, Allen hurriedly knocked on the door to no avail. Pulling it open, he saw that the room was dark. No one goes to the bathroom when it's that dark. Not by choice. Closing it, he felt along the wall until he found the door, sliding down to the floor just next to it, back pressed up against the wall adjacent to the door with the slim hope that she'd come back. She left him, couldn't find an inkling of the girl anywhere. She'd left him defenseless. Injured, no glasses, easy to be found by the feds.

It was all too much. He was too distraught to feel anything more than numb. Everything was overwhelming, and he just couldn't handle it. Not alone. The last thing he wanted was to be alone. He'd already lost his friends...and he couldn't very well go back to his family. Defeated, Allen slid to the filthy carpet and curled into his good arm. He just didn't want to be alone.

After making a few purchases at the vending machines, Gina entered the motel and put the bags she was carrying along with what snacks would fit in her mouth on the table. "I'm baaack~!" She giggled, "Didja miss me~?" She smiled as she headed over to Allen. Before reaching the bed she saw his slumped body on the floor. "Hey! Get up, dammit." She told him as she gave him a nudge with her foot, "That floor is probably filthy and crawling with bacteria." She persuaded, "Not that the sheets of these beds are much cleaner.." She muttered, wondering when the last time was that the room was even cleaned all that well.

Allen awoke to a foot nudging him and the sound of Gina's voice. She hadn't left him after all. Feeling silly, he decided to blame all of his actions on the fever, yes the fever, the thought of him acting so childishly otherwise appalling. Sitting up, he could still feel the dampness of the new blood but what thankful that it had stopped on its own. Mind a little clearer now, he looked up at what he thought was the rest of her body and reached out for a pant leg to tug. "Where are my glasses?" he asked, trying to hide his desperation. "And where did you go?"

"Oh, right. Those. Got 'em right here!" She said gleefully, as she took them from her coat pocket and handed them to him while giving him a thumbs up.  "And I told you, I went out to get some things. You know, like food."

Taking his glasses, Allen put them on again, glad to be able to see. Well, see better. He hadn't had his prescription checked in well over seven years, and this set of glasses had seen more than its fair share of battles. Nothing like working on an experiment hunched over only for them to slide right off your face. 

After pulling himself back up to stand, he leaned against the wall, watching the young woman. "You did? I must have still been asleep...Get anything else? I don't think I can wander around in these clothes for much longer..." he said, admiring the blood and grime across his poor white shirt. Before he went back to bed, he'd certainly have to shower.

"Uh, yeeeah!" Gina said rolling her eyes as she took out something from one of the bags, "Some nice cold beer!" She said ecstatically as she put it away in their fridge for later. Then she turned back to the rest of the stuff, "So. You gonna eat any of this with me or what?" She asked as she tried to figure out where everything was.

Even though he didn't feel particularly hungry, Allen nodded, recalling that the last meal he had would have been lunch earlier in the day. It'd probably be best he ate something. "Might as well add food to the stains on this shirt," he grinned, making his way to table. After rummaging in one of the bags, he pulled out the generic painkillers, dry swallowing a couple, and one of the two Milky Way bars, smile growing wider. "Haven't had one of these in a long time..." he commented to himself, carefully unwrapping it.

Gina watched him carefully, she was mainly making sure that he didn't bleed some more. She stuffed a few Ho-ho's and some donuts into her mouth. "Got any money with you? You're paying for half this room, you got that?" She said in order to give them something to talk about. She herself still had some cash left over, along with fake i.d.s and stolen credit cards-which didn't seem like a good idea to use in a small town like this. Plus she didn't want him to freak out again like he did when she stole that car...they should go and get rid of that thing soon nonetheless-maybe they could leave town tomorrow and abandon it on their way out...trade it in so to speak if they found one parked on the outskirts of town...

Between bites, he quipped, "You actually pay for rooms? I'm surprised. And no, I don't have much of anything on me...If 'five years locked up in some batshit government institution without consent...or pay' didn't sink in yet, I'll repeat it." Sighing, he amended, "Look, I mean, I probably do have a small amount of money, but it's floating around in a bank account that might not be the best idea to access...And I don't like having debts to anyone...but there's not too much else I can do about it. How do you even get money? Stolen credit cards? A stray nicked wallet or two? You don't seem like the cat burglar type...I mean, it's not like you couldn't...But. Uh, yeah."

"Ya well, this cheapskate motel made me pay up front." She muttered then retaliated, "And hey! I resent that. Just because I borrow a thing or two, doesn't make me a bad person. I do what I need to in order to survive. I don't need some science freak psycho path to go around judging me. I don't have to explain myself to you. And how I get money is none of your concern." She fumed, and took another bite of a chocolate goody. "You should be more grateful." She said under her breath, Great. First he's useless. Now he's penniless. How annoying.

Setting down his half-finished candy bar, he vollied, "I'm not judging you...Well, other than your use of the word borrow. You're not borrowing it; you're stealing it. Call it what it is and own up to it. Which, given our circumstances, can't be helped all that much. It's not like we can go find some nice nine-to-five and make some sort of honest money...I don't care, credit card holders usually even get the money back. I don't care what you do as long as it doesn't get us caught!" Rubbing his temples, he finished, "Look, I'm sorry if I made a fool of myself earlier, but I've come to realize you've been doing this a while...I should have just trusted you, I'm sorry." Looking down, he grabbed his candy bar and mumbled, "Besides, without you, I'd still be stuck there hating myself..."

Gina stared at him for a while, sizing him up. Why's he such a scaredy cat? "Fine. I steal things. And you know what? It feels good to steal things." She stated matter-of-factly. "And besides-I don't know what you're so scared of. They probably think you're dead by now, which means no one should be coming after you." She told him reassuringly then stood up, "And you're right. You should trust me. I'm going to change." She added and headed for the bathroom. Argh! How could I tell him to trust me when I can barely trust myself? Maybe I should just kill him...

Allen frowned. She just couldn't possibly understand. "You try sitting through that and not being scared..." he murmured under his breath as she left for the bathroom. Scowling at his chocolate, he set it back down, wrapping it back up for later. He wasn't hungry anymore. Standing, he walked back over to his bed, threw all the sheets back on top of it, and sat back down with the the pad of paper and pen in hand. He couldn't let himself feel useless anymore. Starting from the beginning, he wrote the names of the victims' files he'd read through as well as their location and date of death. There had to be some sort of correlation, and he had to find it.

In the bathroom Gina took out her compact from her coat pocket, in doing so the second one dropped to the floor. Ugh. Forgot to give him this. She set her own to produce a decent pair of pajamas and changed into them. She walked out and headed towards the second bed, throwing the compact that she got for Allen at him, "Gotcha somethin'." She added after it reached its landing, then crawled into her own bed. "Playing Sudoku or something over there?" She teased.

The compact landed in his lap on top of the hotel papers and Allen looked at it for a moment. Holding it up, he asked, "What? Was it that noticeable that I needed to powder my nose?" Turning the object around in his hand, he studied it carefully. What on Earth was it supposed to do?

Gina sat-up, cross-legged. She stared at him in disbelief, mouth wide open for a minute, then realized he seriously didn't know what it was. "Pfft." She covered her mouth with her hand and tried to hold back the laughter before she burst out laughing and rolled around on the bed, feet kicking the air. After calming down a bit she sat up again and wiped the tears from her eyes, "You serious?" She asked through a few more laughs, then realized, "Oh right. You don't get out often do you?" She teased, "It may look like a compact, but it's only compact in size. It stores outfits for you. Where the mirror is on a normal compact, on that thing it shows what clothes are in your inventory. And if you press the middle button it produces your clothes, understand? Go on, open it. I bought you a few new outfits-you can pay me back after we break into that bank account of yours." She winked at him.