━━ CHAPTER SIX / get up!

The sun wasn't even up when Marc and Ronny met the next day. But the hustle and bustle of the streets had already begun. There were a few men patrolling but no serious security to threaten them. That's what they believed anyway. But it only took a few miscalculations before they were both thrown in an underground cell having been knocked unconscious.

Ronny coughed violently as she rolled over onto her side, groggy from her brief unconsciousness. Her hand pressed against her chest as she blinked a few times. Dust was in her eyes and she squeezed them shut as she rolled onto her stomach, praying it would make the dust disappear. Her whole body ached and she could feel the sweat stinging her eyes.

"Coño," She mumbled softly as she pushed herself onto her knees. She lifted herself up before she wiped her forehead and eyes with the cuffs of her long-sleeved shirt, "Marc?" She opened her eyes to look around, spotting him even in the gloom and through her slightly blurry gaze. He seemed to be waking up just like her and she shuffled over before collapsing onto her ass in front of him. He didn't look injured and he had taken the punches well in their fight that got them here. Though it was hard to see him in the gloom. There was one window on the far wall and the sliver of sunlight shone through the centre of the room, where Ronny was sitting.

Marc rubbed his eyes and sat up before he met her gaze. He shuffled closer as the corner of his lips turned down. He looked almost, concerned. His hand moved to her chin and he lifted her face, it wasn't a trick of the light. Her cheeks were a mix of yellow, pink and dark brown bruises and even seemed to travel under her jaw.

"What happened to your face?" He asked before he sat back down, crossing his legs in front of him. Ronny ran her fingers across her cheek before she shrugged his question off.

"Fighting." He narrowed his eyes. His face was being lit up by the sun now and she could see the bags under his eyes. He was exhausted. She had no idea how much sleep he had gotten but she knew she hadn't gotten much. Between schmoozing and the free bar, she was sure she was still a little tipsy from all the champagne and cocktails.

"Fighting when?" He asked as he pushed himself to stand up. It took him a moment to actually gather the strength before he crossed over to the window. Ronny squinted against the sun as she watched him survey what little area they could see. The busy sounds of the street were pouring in which meant that they were probably still near the hotel.

"Just fighting. They were worse yesterday," She mumbled. Then Ronny pushed herself to her feet, her legs felt weak and shaky but she managed to gather enough strength to join him on the other side of the room, "See anything useful?" She asked. He shook his head and she huffed in annoyance. Her face ached, her legs felt like jelly and her head was spinning. Whether it was from a hangover or being knocked out was anyone's guess.

"It looks like we're fighting our way out." He didn't sound happy about it but Ronny felt the same. They were here for an artefact, she hadn't planned on killing or fighting anyone.

"Are we going to sit here in our suits or should we attract their attention?" Ronny asked, stepping away from him. He turned around to face her, his mouth slightly open to question her but then she punched him. He was briefly disorientated before he twisted his entire body and threw his knee to her stomach, shoving her sideways to the floor.

Her head smacked against the concrete and she groaned, rolling over and standing back up. He landed a punch to her face before she could get her bearings and the copper taste exploded in her mouth. She stumbled before she collapsed to her knees, her body refusing to hold her weight.

"Cabrón." She glared up at him before she spat blood to the floor. He let her get her bearings as she stood back up. Nobody had heard them yet, "We should make some real noise." She wasn't even aware that she had switched fully to Spanish but Marc understood either way. His attacks came quick, a punch to her jaw, a kick to the stomach and he practically threw her against the door. It rattled in its frame as she collapsed to the floor, blinking hard.

Spots darted across her vision and she rolled over onto her back. Marc was waiting for her to move but then the door swung open and he jumped at them. Ronny rolled out of the way and without even using the suit, the guards were dead. A gun in his hand and the two shots still reverberating in her skull.

"Get up!" Marc had switched to Spanish and Ronny stared at him. He was a native speaker, that much was obvious. She hadn't realised Marc actually knew Spanish and it sent her head spinning into a new spiral of confusion. He quickly grew frustrated with her slow pace and left the room without her. She stared at the door for a moment before she rubbed her eyes again and stood.

She took a moment to orient herself before she followed after him and all the guards were dead. Every guard in sight was gone. She heard another shot and winced at the sound. No matter how many times she used a gun, it still made her wince. Another person dead by Marc's hand.

"Marc," She called down the corridor. The footsteps came towards her and he had two guns. He held one out to her and she took it, still confused and frankly disorientated by the change in pace. She wanted Thoth here. She wanted Thoth to take her away from here. Her body felt like it was moving in slow-motion and considering Marc's annoyance, it must have been.

"Are we leaving or not?" He was blunt and still speaking in Spanish. She was only acutely aware of the switch in language, so used to moving fluidly between each, but she knew and it confused her. He had never spoken Spanish to her. Even when she teased him in Spanish, he ignored her. Never even giving a hint that he understood a word she said.

"Yeah, let's go," She responded. At this point, she wasn't sure what language she had responded in but he understood and they began to stalk through the corridors. They had been teeming with guards but now they were all dead. Gunshots to the head, knives plunged into their hearts. Blood splattered the walls in an almost artistic way. It was morbidly fascinating. The blood was on Marc's hands but he seemed entirely unphased.

Then Thoth appeared. He was a shadow down a separate corridor and she stopped. Marc heard her stop and turned. The annoyance etched on his features.

"Don't go with him. It is not who you think," Thoth warned, his voice booming through her skull. Her eyes narrowed as she watched his shadow-y figure grow closer. Ronny looked back to Marc and pulled her eyebrows down.

"Marc?" She asked. He said nothing and then Thoth had a hand on her shoulder.

"It's time to leave." The portal appeared and she stepped through it without even thinking about it. She was back in London, her messy apartment. The door wasn't latched shut which meant that Kaylea must have come to visit at some point while she was gone. She ran her fingers through her hair, turning around. Had Thoth come with her?

"Who was that?" She called into thin air, hoping that the God would appear. But nothing, just silence met her questions. Ronny took a deep breath and stripped her long-sleeved shirt off, wrapping the gun in it and stuffing it into the bottom drawer of her bedside table. The sun was peeking over the horizon and she glanced over at the time. It was nearing 9am and she knew that she had to apologise to Kaylea for ditching her at the club.

Ronny reached into one of the hidden pockets of her pants, hoping and praying that her phone hadn't been damaged by the fight. She was met with a cracked screen but once she powered it back on, it worked just fine. There were so many missed calls and messages from Kaylea and Ronny bit her lip, debating how to make it up to her.

Kaylea would be on shift at the bookstore near the Museum by now so Ronny just had to grab her favourite biscoff doughnuts from the shop and it would - hopefully - be just fine. The days of worry were normal in their friendship and most of Kaylea's calls had been from the night at the club. Ronny could hardly blame her.

But now she knew what to do, get dressed, cover up the intense bruises the best she could, get the biscoff doughnuts and pray her friendship would be saved. Kaylea was all Ronny had other than a God that only she could see. Ronny couldn't lose Kaylea, not now.

-

TRANSLATIONS
Coño = fuck & Cabrón = bastard

NOTE
this part sort of just came to be super quickly after watching the finale literally like an hour ago so here it is!! i'm actually just in love with this fic and i hope you enjoyed!! <3