A Mile High [Yuuko/Invite]

[Lazarus Carter]

2:32AM, WASHINGTON TIME
FEBRUARY 2ND, 2012
BRITISH AIRWAYS AIRBUS A380, FLIGHT BA 1346
SOMEWHERE OVER AMERICA

After a month of deliberating whether or not to actually go ahead with it, at the end of a tumultuous few weeks, Lazarus concluded that he was going to return to his tentative home at the beginning of February: that was, London. But between Washington and London was an ocean, a few thousand miles (as the crow flies), and more importantly, a seven-hundred dollar seven hour flight with British Airways, which seemed like an awful lot of hassle when he could just stay in Washington D.C.

However, with the month's new developments, it had become increasingly important that Lazarus return to England; and not just to continue his university course, which he now was using as a cover. No; with the development and formation of the Nephilim, after the raid on the Aviax den a couple of weeks prior to the flight, the group had decided that members five strong were not enough, and Washington alone had not the subtlety nor the familiarity for any of its members to go on what was essentially a recruitment hike. So leaving Jinhong and Pulean in charge of locating Jerome, Lazarus had decided to leave, with the recovering Yuuko, for London.

Looking from the window of the Airbus as he felt his over-exhausted brain vegetate, half an hour into the flight - having been awakened by his alarms - yes, alarms, for the teenager's cliché inability to wake when called the first time - approximately three hours prior in order to leave for the airport, and gotten a grand total of half an hour of sleep, Lazarus felt pretty fucking tired. Flights were flights; but being a Demon Hunter changed your perception of everything. That nervewracking cold you couldn't imagine outside suddenly rang a lot closer to home - as did all the potential threats as they sailed a mile high over the Americas, departing instead for familiar turf.

In a way, Lazarus was happy to be returning to somewhere he knew. London was home, for him; and though he was damned and downtrodden sometimes for being a Yank, it held some unmistakable sort of charm. However, now that his kaleidoscope view of the world through some hyperactive lens had been utterly shattered, in a way, he was dreading his return to what had only been a tentative Avalon in his mind up until now - and that was the real reason he hadn't wanted to come back, for fear of what might change so drastically when he returned not only to his life but to his home with all these newfound revelations and epiphanies in tow.

It wasn't something he could do alone; and making the choice for someone to take had been tough, but Yuuko had been granted time off school anyway for the wound she'd sustained, bullshitting it off as some family excuse, having gotten herself a couple weeks away to give Laz some help in acclimatising before most likely heading back. Jinhong was older and more mature, and Pulean more supportive, but both of them together, with their synchronicity, had a better chance at holding things down, keeping Nephilim activity subtle in their early, low-key days, finding potential allies, and, finally, locating the one they'd left missing.

Flashbacks of Smith and his forgetting Jerome glimmered in front of his eyes. How what the fuck happened had actually happened, he had no idea; one minute, everything seemed more or less salvageable; then they were down from five to four, everyone embittered and just wanting to leave to go home. It had been an eventful month, to say the least. And as Laz rested his head back against the Airbus seats' headrest, white trilby and blacked-out Blues Brothers glasses in tow, he smiled, not entirely sure why he was wearing what was essentially some pathetic gangster disguise when the only things he'd be hiding from were Demons.

At least, from how Pulean had explained it, he was safe from Inferis on the flight. Not that he really cared that much about venturing in any more; but he just didn't truly still understand the dynamics, and that passage into Inferis was typically only voluntary. The way she'd explained it had made an emotional contingency - like his first trip over to the "other side" - sound rare as all hell, but Lazarus didn't fancy taking chances whilst he was vulnerable, and a mile above the Atlantic.

Regardless, between Templars - whether they actually checked or registered any databases or not - and just pure suspicion, Lazarus felt like the last four weeks, whilst definitively not criminal, had opened his eyes to a lot, and he didn't want to be recognised by any undesirables, so, as pitiful a disguise as it was - considering that he carried his passport on him there and then - it was a disguise all the same. And as he laid his head back and smiled, he realised that his grin was one of the truth. Being a Hunter did change your perception of things.

And thanks to that, he was never going to sleep on a fucking airplane again when, body exhausted or not, thanks to his mind running on overdrive without so much as asking for permission.

One of the cabin crew came past with a trolley, and Laz smiled, waving her down abruptly and murmuring to her in a gravelly, morning-esque voice. "I'll take a black coffee." She nodded; and it wasn't long between a plastic cup filled with that holy bitter elixir had been exchanged for the money it was supposedly worse; it felt like a pittance to the redhead for what it would offer him. Grasping tightly the polystyrene cup in his hand, he looked up to the overhead screens above. Seatbelt signs were still on. ETA was another six hours away. If he slept, it'd fuck him up with jetlag. If he didn't, he'd get fucked up with less jetlag, but exhaustion anyway. It was a lose-lose situation. So he was just going to not really give two shits about the whole thing and stay pensive, turning instead to Yuuko as the screen flipped over, who was seated next to him on the aisle, leaving the window empty.

"I suggest you get some sleep if you can," The redhead murmured, before tilting his head. She might have known her shit in Inferis, but she was still only seventeen. "Ever been on a plane before?"

[Yuuko Koizumi]

"Can't sleep... don't want to... and no I haven't..." Yuuko muttered in a voice void of emotion. Yuuko just looked like shit, and she knew it. Dark circles were forming under her eyes, and the whites of her eyes were bloodshot. Yuuko hadn't had a decent night's sleep in about a week. This month had been a difficult one for her, to say the least. Between getting skewered by a demon, to finding out her parents had been murdered by the only person who'd ever given a damn about her after they died, she wasn't having fun. Yuuko also knew that there were Templars crawling all over D.C. now, watching them and waiting for her team to make a misstep that the order wouldn't like.

To make things short, Yuuko wanted out for awhile. So when Lazarus put the opportunity on the table, she agreed before he could finish the question. Plus... she had sort of missed Laz. For some reason she often found herself just staring at his number in her contacts list, wanting to say something to him but not knowing what to say. She knew that she could have told him about meeting with Jerome, and about her accounts with Amadeus. But she didn't want to just talk about business. Yuuko didn't feel like talking about any of that stuff, but Yuuko knew she'd have to tell him at some point. Why did he make her so incredibly frustrated and flustered? It was so.... irritating. Yuuko had always been sure about everything, and what she wanted to do with her life. If she wanted it, she'd do it. And nobody would get in her way. And now.. she didn't know anything. It pissed her off. Everyone was getting away with pushing her around.

Yuuko clenched the crucifix around her neck tightly. Why the hell hadn't she thrown it out yet? It disgusted her, the thing around her neck. It was stained with blood, her parent's blood. It made her feel like a traitor by wearing it. But whenever she considered just throwing it into the trash, something held her back. She felt torn, torn between the love of her parents and the love she felt for Amadeus. Yuuko wanted to kill him, yet she also wanted to embrace him. A fucked up predicament indeed.

As Yuuko stared down at her lap with a grimace, thoughts of Jerome popped into her head again. How would Lazarus react to the news? Would he become angry with her for not informing him until now? For some reason she actually cared what he thought of her. Yuuko actually got scared whenever she thought of mentioning Jerome to him. But it was crucial that she tell him... god she hated Jerome for coming to see her.

"Hey.. later I need to tell you something... and what's up with those stupid glasses? Are you trying to seem cool or something?"

[Lazarus Carter]

"Can't sleep... don't want to... and no I haven't..." And there came the statement from his erstwhile Japanese schoolgirl comrade which he utterly concurred with. For some reason, that stupid grin endured on his face as he nodded in agreement, though both physically and mentally he felt like curling up with a large bottle of bourbon and a revolver and hoping for the worst.

"Oh, wait til we get to the other end," Laz murmured with an exhausted and sarcastic undertone. He knew all too well the perils of long-haul air flight. "The recovery period is beautiful." The redhead hissed through clenched teeth, almost spitting; for the amount of times he'd flown back and forth from wherever in America to his would-be 'home' of London, not once had the jetlag been anything but crippling. The flight and time difference were both just long enough to simultaneously exhaust and disorientate you, which made the first twenty-four hours back harrowing at best.

And, of course, this was Yuuko's first time flying; scanning the girl for a moment, he shook his head and cracked a tired smile once more. "You'll be fine." He murmured reassuringly, and turned back, tilting his hat down, trying to ease into something resembling a state of unconsciousness. He'd take comatose or dead instead of asleep if push came to shove; when it got to that state of exhaustion where not only everything started to seem surreal, but your bones and muscles ached, things could only go downhill. Mind; that wasn't a painful ache, just irritating, and somehow ever-present until you slipped into the peaceful hold of slumber, no matter where exactly you where. Or unless you drank. Then it tended to clear up, too.

Yuuko began to speak once more just as his eyes settled, and instinctively he snarled in response. "Hey.. later I need to tell you something..." Turning back to her and peering over the tinted lenses, white trilby sat at a somehow natural-looking trance on his head, he nodded, and prepared to turn back around. "...and what's up with those stupid glasses? Are you trying to seem cool or something?" Well that was just plain damn rude! It was weird to think that not a month ago she was smacking him around for trying to fall asleep on an abandoned highway in an alternate dimension, and now they were debating the intricacies of his clearly awesome eyewear on a trans-Atlantic flight.

"For your information," Lazarus snapped, lowering the glasses completely and glaring at her, crimson eyes trying to bore a hole in her skull out of sheer irritation. He wasn't offended, just mildly offset; and that coupled with serious sleep deprivation made the Montanan somewhat... sassy. "These glasses aren't stupid, they're a replica model of the Blues Brothers'," The hopeful pop culture enthusiast spoke matter-of-factly, trying to convey his anal-retentive pseudo-irritation. "And if Belushi can pull that shit off, so can I."

With that, he lifted the scalding cup of coffee to his lips, and poured some into his mouth, wincing slightly from the heat and swallowing it before it could do much more damage and start causing the inside of his fucking stomach lining to peel. "Haaaaaaaah!" He hissed out, trying to cool his tongue and gums out. Jesus Christ, what did they boil the fucking water with, coals out of the goddamn Ashland? And, to top it all off, it tasted like shit anyway. "Fucking airline coffee..." Laz grumbled. But at the end of the day, caffeine was caffeine, he supposed-

Wait, there was something else she'd said. Oh yeah. With the re-revelation, he offered an addendum. "Oh, and, you already know I don't have to try to look cool." He cracked a smile, slipping the glasses back on and turning to facet he back of the seat in front once more, resting his head against the cool and somewhat uncomfortable fabric that his own chair was fashioned from. "It's a natural, innate attribute that just comes with being yours truly, Lazarus Carter." Spoke the teenager, smug as he settled back down with a gentle sigh, bathing in an aura of his own false, and ever-so-slightly self-deprecating semi-joking egotism.

[Yuuko Koizumi]

Yuuko sighed and turned away, not feeling up to the banter at the moment. Usually she'd snap something right back at him about his huge ego, but Yuuko just couldn't do it today. Everything was just weighing down on her like a house of bricks. She wanted to break down and cry all the time, which she had already done plenty of times at her own home. Yuuko wanted to get over it, but her mind wouldn't let her.

Every time she shut her eyes, she could see them. Her parents, that is. Watching them die, over and over again. The man with the black mask stealing their lives away right before her. A knife through her father's chest, her mother fighting for her life before being killed in the most gruesome ways possible. And Yuuko had to watch it all, just five years old and having to watch them die. No wonder her brain forced itself to forget the memory. Even now, Yuuko couldn't handle it.

As Yuuko thought about it, she felt a knot form in her throat. She was trying so hard to contain it, but it felt like it was just going to burst. No no, she couldn't just start bawling on the plane in front of everyone! Not now! Yuuko sniffled as she tried to force the tears back inside, but when she felt the wet and salty water fall down her cheeks she knew it was game over. She tried to hide it by looking towards the window and away from Laz. Hopefully it would stop before he noticed and she could regain her composure.

[Lazarus Carter]

Silence came in response and Laz sat facing dead forwards, trying once more to phase back into some state of semi-consciousness as the lids of his eyes, heavier than lead, began to slide down. The redhead felt that fuzzy tingling at the tips of his fingers and the ends of his bones; and then when he heard Yuuko stir next to him, he was ready to turn around and snarl at her. But then came a sound; and then came a sound utterly unfamiliar.

It was odd; hoarse, dry, and a precursor to something he knew all too well. Infact, it was not a sound that in itself the teen was unfamiliar with, but instead of the predisposed incompatibility between it and the Japanese-American schoolgirl who sat barely inches to the right of him. It was a sniffling of sorts; a great, jagged, nasal drawing of air as she desperately tried to stifle and suppress the inevitable flood that came next; the tears.

As he opened his eyes and peered over the frame of his Blues Brothers sunglasses, Lazarus felt a pang of guilt as he saw her head turn away. The sniffing was the only thing he'd heard, but putting that together with her being turned away and the gentle glimmering of light through what looked to be a slick of moisture down the curvature of her cheek, immediately he jumped to the somewhat-egotistic conclusion that it was something he'd done or said, and was initially speechless. But Yuuko was not so petty; and as he too went into overdrive, stuttering in silence, his mouth half-agape, he realised then that there was something else to this, another factor in the equation. There must have been.

In and amongst it all, the Demons, the pain, the Templars, the other dimension; he'd forgotten something. Yuuko was two years younger than him. She was an adolescent girl; and whereas he was just about emerging from the brink of puberty, tattered, bloody, beaten, but all the better for it, she was stuck right in the thick of it, hormone levels waging war. And whilst her classmates were presumably bitching and arguing over who fucked who and how drunk they'd gotten the previous weekend, she had been stuck in the middle, silent in the corner, with a genealogical origin she could tell no-one of and never shake, simply just seek solace in a torn dimension that she couldn't bring anyone else in on.

In this Lazarus realised why she was so fierce, so hostile; he hadn't known of his being a Demon Hunter til very recently, and whilst Jerome had been raised by his family, and the twins had each other to fall back on if the shit hit the fan, Yuuko had no-one to talk about this with. She was on her own, alone, and segregated, with nothing but a sword and a legion of Demons in front of her, so she just kept walking, kept slashing, kept hacking, and never looked back. In this revelation another pang of guilt struck for every time he'd, in his own head, berated or belittled her for being cold or detached.

Silently he rose an arm out - albeit uncomfortably - from beneath the rough material of the airplane seatbelts, and let it fall down upon her shoulder, draping it over her back and keeping the flat of his palm reassuringly on her collarbone. Opening his mouth, he tried to think of something to say, but was worried that whatever he did would only further prompt the flood and tempt it then out of its cage. From what he'd seen of Yuuko, he never really thought she'd be one to so openly discuss her problems, so all he could offer was a silent and almost pitiful statement with an undertone of as much assurance as he could muster.

"This will all get better." Lazarus stated in absolution, calmly and quietly, so that hopefully the other unwitting passengers in their proximity didn't notice. The absolute last thing they needed was for this to become a public scene. "All we need is a few more people on our side to back us up, to expand, and we'll sort this all out." Tilting his head ever-closer, he stopped when his mouth was barely inches away from her ear and whispered the last defining statement of whatever strain of inspirational speech he'd tugged this little gem from. "We're gonna fight back."

[Yuuko Koizumi]

When she heard Lazarus start to shift in his seat, Yuuko quickly wiped her tears away and tried even harder to hold them back. She didn't want to be seen in such a state. Yet, when he touched her, she felt calm almost immediately. Yuuko became less tense, and even leaned into his hold a bit. Yuuko hadn't felt a gentle touch in over a decade, but it was nice. A foreign warmth rose to her cheeks when she could feel his breath on her ear, and sent pleasant shudders down her spine.

"... I'm not even upset about that," She muttered softly, remaining in his one armed embrace. It was warm and comfortable, and Yuuko didn't want to move away. Normally if people just touched her like this without asking, they'd receive a swift punch to the neck. But.. she'd make an exception for this time.

"A lot just happened after I left the hospital.. and everything is just a big pile of bullshit left and right.. I don't know what to do, I don't even have control over my own life anymore.." She confessed quietly, feeling more tears spill over as she exposed her inner-torment to Lazarus. "And there's this.. this.. man who ruined everything.." Yuuko wasn't even sure how to talk about Amadeus with Lazarus. Nobody would really understand her conflicting feelings towards him.

"I hate him, I hate him more than any human being on earth. Yet I love him at the same time.. and I just don't know what to do." Yuuko sighed and began to pull away, beginning to feel foolish for saying these things to Laz. "Nevermind, it's something that I'll solve sooner or later..."

[Lazarus Carter]

"... I'm not even upset about that," She... wasn't? It was kind of disheartening, the lack of faith in the team she apparently held, but she had never really been one for interaction with others in the first place, so it was no surprise the origin of her sadness laid elsewhere. Lazarus faltered for a moment but swiftly pulled into a nod as she continued to speak. "A lot just happened after I left the hospital.. and everything is just a big pile of bullshit left and right.. I don't know what to do, I don't even have control over my own life anymore.."

To be fair; the founding members of Nephilim, as much as Lazarus wanted it to take off, did have their own life. Pulean had her music; and Yuuko school. Hell, he himself was returning to sort out university - but he had no doubts that nothing would remain the same after an experience like that. Maybe; maybe it would have, if he'd have grown up aware of his genealogy, knowing full well his heritage, maybe he would have been able to get all his ducks in a row, all his shit together, and just take care of stuff one lane at a time. But such a late-life experience, as he was well and truly on his way out puberty? It was... tumultuous, to say the least.

But never once in this maelstrom of adrenaline and off-centre spiritualism had he doubted his own control. Even slumped against the side of a highway fearing for his very fucking life, there was always control there, even on a base level. To stay or to run. To cross or to remain. To escape or to engage. Templars, Demons, fuck, the enemy didn't matter - through the lesser hours of his life in Inferis and through the days of his later revelations there had always been some degree of control. "Don't say that." The teen murmured in response, steadfast and assuring. "No matter how much things might go to shit, you've always got control over the crap that matters, and you know that."

The waterworks had thoroughly begun now; the tears were in full flow, and she was sniffing them back, her voice hoarse and jagged. Normally he would have expected a slap for even breaking that bubble of space she so defiantly erected around her, that aura of hostility which none could broach, but in this instance, he let the arm hang further and tried his best just to smile warmly and listen. "And there's this.. this.. man who ruined everything.." ...man? Yuuko was seventeen. She was a kid. And, fuck, he might have lost it a lot earlier, but she was a girl who was stubbornly independent, so if someone was taking advantage of her, in one way or another, it wasn't of her own will.

A tone of concern bit into his voice sharply, a stiffness and rigidity as he continued. "Who is he?" Laz asked plainly; there was no undercurrent of violence, no vindictive underlying wish for retribution for whatever he'd done to put a friend of his - whether a new acquaintance or not, in spite of however cold she could be at times - in this sort of downtrodden state. For at the end of the day he knew one thing and one thing alone; these tears, they were not the Yuuko he knew. Perhaps this was a more private side of her; but here, they were on full display under the glare of the artificial yellow light, the tears reddening her face as she tried her absolute hardest to sniff them back. Here? They were in public. And showing weakness in front of others was something the Japanese-American definitely didn't do.

"I hate him, I hate him more than any human being on earth. Yet I love him at the same time.. and I just don't know what to do." Still no name. Nothing. And the way she described him, though it sounded like the typical affection relationship of a teenage girl, was not typical of Yuuko, and sounded scarily closer to Stockholm Syndrome than anything else. Which, in itself, worried Laz even further. The redhead arched an eyebrow and withdrew his arm, lowering it down to himself; she had been pulling away, who was he to stop her? Hopefully soon the tears would stop. "Nevermind, it's something that I'll solve sooner or later..."

The redhead smiled and shook his head as she tried to turn away. She could retract her body; but never her expression. That moron grin of his came in tow with another statement he tried his absolute hardest to make reassuring. "Yuuko, you don't have to take this on your own, you know that, right?" He knew this type oh-so-well. The cold, the independent, the detached. "You might not want to seem weak, but I'm not going to judge you if you so much as ask me for help, that's why the group's together, it's what we're here for." Tilting his head, he elaborated with the most poignant statement of the spiel yet. "It's what I'm here for."

Continuing, he shook his head and instead rubbed the shoulder nearest to him gently in the hope that would at least distract her for a moment. She didn't want to elaborate. And that worried him, but there was nothing he could do; in time, if she needed to, she would come to him, but it sounded as if this were a situation personal to her, and one she could only ask Lazarus to help with if he was truly wanted. Until then? All he could do was state the truth: "I'll say no more, but I'm on call if you ever need me, whether it's for conversation or something slightly more..." How to word it... "...drastic." Ominous as it did sound, for a Demon Hunter, it was far worse a reality than anything else, their other-worldly abilities taken into account.

"You're tired. If you can, it's worth getting some sleep." Smiling at her, he tilted the hat back down and donned the sunglasses once more, turning once more to the seat-back in front. "Big day when we land." Well, that was half of it. "And you'll have a clearer head to think about all this." There was an age-old adage, personal and specific to the Carter clan - this generation, anyway - which his adoptive parents had always told him, his father particularly: "When all else fails, there are very few problems which can't be solved with or at least better approached after a few hours' sleep." And to that day, of all the family mottos, that had been the one to serve him best.

Ironic considering his current status as a student.

[Yuuko Koizumi]

"I... I can't tell you who he is." Yuuko kept her face away from Laz. What would he say if he knew? Would he hate her for being so foolish? Yuuko just felt completely conflicted, which was why she was keeping it all to herself for now. It was for the best. "Yuuko, you don't have to take this on your own, you know that, right?" Oh, but she did... if Lazarus tried to interfere, he'd be killed for sure. None of her teammates would stand a chance against Amadeus, in the real world and certainly not in Inferis. Either Amadeus' templars or he himself would make quick work of them.

It was nice to know that he was there for her. Really it was. It was more than anybody had ever done for her. It was all she had ever really wanted from someone. Yuuko would have to reject such an offer though. This was her burden, her's alone to bear. She wouldn't- no she couldn't let her allies get dragged down with her all because of her stupid mistakes. No more people needed to die while she was here to keep them safe.

"I can deal with this by myself.. I'm not some helpless little girl. I'm an adult, Lazarus. And I hope that during my stay here, that you treat me like one. I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions. I always have been," Yuuko muttered, returning to her cold demeanor. Once again, her shields were up and she was back to being her usual self.

Endless hours passed before the pair finally landed at the airport. Yuuko was dead tired and hadn't really slept a wink, not to mention that her legs were still asleep from sitting so long.

"Ugh... what do we do now?"

[Lazarus Carter]

"I... I can't tell you who he is." She... couldn't? For a moment, Lazarus Carter's mind explored the endless possibilities of just why she couldn't let a fellow Hunter, a fellow teammate, a friend know about the tragedies in her life. Ritualist? Demon? Perhaps she had been controlled or manipulated? There were some charismatic specimens of the other world in Inferis; some truly devious abominations that once called themselves members of the human race. The adage of the "deal with the Devil" was one far closer to the bone than simple myth or biblical legend.

But then he realised that his thoughts were intrusive; and distrustful. This was Yuuko he was dealing with; the person who'd shown him the ropes, not some wet-around-the-ears novice whose hand he had to hold. She knew her shit; and she was never going to let a Demon manipulate or break her without a damn good reason. And as far as he could tell, there weren't any reasons out there yet so much as acceptable enough for her to even consider faltering her fealty. His faith in her loyalty was just as well-placed as he'd thought it should be. So instead; he hid his curiosity, put on that dumbass smile, and just nodded, gritting his teeth and biting his tongue. "Alright then."

Just as he lowered the trilby and tried to go to sleep, he didn't just hear the change in demeanour as those signature barriers rose about her once more, swiftly drying the tears and wrenching the taps that had let them loose tightly back - he felt it. It was almost like a change in the wind; a cold rush, or some bullshit like that. Without opening his eyes or even listening to her speak, he just knew things were back to normal. "I can deal with this by myself.. I'm not some helpless little girl. I'm an adult, Lazarus. And I hope that during my stay here, that you treat me like one. I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions. I always have been,"

The words rang loud and clear but the smirk hung at the side of his mouth - the side she couldn't see, and even if she could, he'd instantly brush it off as just being that signature pointless smile for nothing. But she'd shown him a side of her he'd once thought the cold, hard teenage Amazon never of having the capacity to possess: vulnerability. And just as she became defensive in that typical return to the staple facade she knew, as did he: sarcasm. "Seventeen's a legal child, Yuuko, so you're still a girl in the eyes of the law and whilst you're not holding up that sword." And with that final snarky comment, he shut his eyes for good and drifted off into a blissful sleep.

*****

1:38PM, GREENWICH MEAN TIME
FEBRUARY 2ND, 2012
HEATHROW AIRPORT, TERMINAL 4
LONDON

...but blissful or not, it had neither restored the aching in his muscles and bones or the grogginess in his psyche as he awoke once more finding himself yearning for caffeine as a ravenous zombie did for grey matter. "Coffee..." He groaned beneath his voice as he stretched and awoke, before repeating it with slightly more of a dynamic, causing the people around him to go oddly silent and turn their eyes upon the American. "COFFEE."

As he rubbed away the condensation from the glass, with his mouth agape and the bags under his eyes wide enough to hold a week's grocery shopping for an obese family of five, Lazarus let out an entirely unattractive yawn and regarded the screeching of landing gear on the tarmac, and a thud as the plane connected - in a rather turbulent manner - with the strip. It was only another few minutes before they all filtered off into the airport proper, and the sluggish pair of Americans ground to a halt in the arrivals lounge. Promptly, Lazarus stared at a nearby mass of people and unleashed a single curse word. "Fuck."

"Ugh... what do we do now?"

First, Lazarus gestured to the large mass of people, who had seemed to have formed into some vague resemblance of a line. Then he rose his finger to the glowing yellow-and-black sign above the queue, pointing an arrow in their direction to, in the distance, beyond many a pillar, many an adult, many a tourist, and many a fucking person, what was displayed to read in a serif font: "Hire Car Service". "That's what I'm doing."

With that, the teenager made an executive decision, diving into his pocket and retrieving the wallet he used only in London - for it contained all his details relative to this specific country, and the concerned currency - and retrieved a trio of purple, British twenty pounds Sterling banknotes, and planted them in Yuuko's hand, along with a set of keys, before directing her to the large set of doors brightly marked EXIT in the same yellow-and-black colour scheme. "Find a cab. Ask for one-three-five Brighton Road, take the elevator to floor three, and apartment thirteen is on your left." The redhead paused and repeated again slower. "135, Brighton Road, third floor, apartment thirteen." With a nod of his head, he gestured to the exits once more. "Now go. I'll be home in..." Another glance at the queue. "...a few hours, hopefully."

With that, he took his position in the line, exhaled sharply, and shook his head, ignoring the Bentley that pulled up outside, and the affluent-looking young blonde woman who exited. London. Queues and arguments aside, he was... back. He was home.

[END THREAD]

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