The doors shut fully, blocking Leon’s view of the body double. It took a few seconds for him to get his bearings, staring blankly at the elevator wall while his chest heaved. There was a body on the floor. The other person out to get Baines that the imposter had mentioned, perhaps? He paid it no more attention, he had seen corpses before and no longer felt anything significant towards them after the first dozen times. He had been told that it gets easier, and maybe it does when it’s all you have memory of.

No, that’s not true.

He did have some memory of a time before, of a mother who was not just a glorified workplace manager. Something within him hurt when he thought of it now, but it was not the place or time to linger on painful relics of the past. He had to check himself over for injuries.

He didn’t think he was bleeding. There was a lot of blood, he was hoping he had managed to slice the body double’s femoral artery. There would be very little chance of him continuing his pursuit any further if that was the case. His wrist was certainly broken, he didn’t have any doubts about that. The swelling had gotten pretty bad by now, he didn’t dare attempt to move it. He could attempt to make a makeshift splint out of the security uniform once he could find a room to block off, he was solidly okay at first aid at least. He could get the job done. He assumed he must’ve tore a muscle in his shoulder or something considering the dull ache he could feel coming from it, and for his spine…he wasn’t sure. He was hoping it was nothing serious, he could still stand after all, so that was a good sign. If he had injured or – God forbid – broken it, then he would’ve lost lower body and perhaps arm movement by now. He definitely had his fair share of bruises, too. He was going to be in a lot of pain for the next few weeks. He exhaled a heavy sigh, slipping the dripping Swiss Army knife into the pocket of his dress pants as he did so. He ran his functioning – albeit incredibly bloody – left hand through his now dishevelled hair.

Just as he thought that he had collected himself and was prepared to figure out some sort of escape route, the man on the floor turned. Leon stood there in complete silence as he spoke, dumbfounded beyond belief.

He was alive? Leon properly looked at him now with eyes wide from shock. He had dirty blonde hair, soaking up fresh looking blood from a wound on his head that looked like it was from some sort of blunt force damage. That was a type of injury he could recognize damn near instantly. Someone in his division once died from a brain hemorrhage after being caught trying to take down a ringleader of a local crime syndicate some idiot had paid Locust good money to go after. He could still recall it all like it was yesterday despite it happening a little over ten years ago, another thing better not to linger on. Either way, this stranger could just have a simple concussion, it was too early to tell.

Leon was briefly thoughtful, was it worth it to attempt to bring him along as he searches for a way out? If the man can’t walk, then Leon would have no choice but to carry him along with him, which would be exceptionally difficult with these kinds of injuries. Maybe he could drag him? But then he would only end up getting more injured in the process. Plus, this guy was totally from another organization, he could always be trying to lower his guard so he could take him out later.

If he was armed as Leon figured though, he might attack if he attempted to leave him behind. It might be nice to have someone watch his back while he attempted to see if there was anything he could use to get down from a window anyways. He could also have useful intel that Locust hadn’t picked up yet. He supposed…he could try to bring the man along.

It was then he realized he had been staring at the man for the past few seconds with a completely deadpan expression. He cleared his throat before responding.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I was. The name’s Leon, by the way.”

Leon wasn’t entirely sure why someone admitting to attempted homicide was also telling him his name, but he could chalk it up to delirium from a mix of his head injury and blood loss. There was no excuse for him doing the exact same thing though, that wasn’t the best call he had ever made. Oh well, what’s the worst that could happen?

“I managed to stab…whoever that was. Not anywhere immediately lethal or anything, but it might be just enough to at least throw him off for now,” He thought about showing this Kieran guy his bloody Swiss Army knife as proof, before dispelling the idea just as quickly. He didn’t want to risk being seen as a threat.

“You look like you’ve seen better days…then again, so have I. Can you stand?” He paused, realizing what an obvious question that was. If he couldn’t sit up, walking was probably out of the realm of possibility for him at the moment.

“Nevermind that. I could probably find a way to carry you…or drag you…or something. Support you while you walk at the very least. I can treat your wound once we’re out of this elevator,” His words came out a little clumsily, he was starting to really feel the pain from his shoulder and wrist.

Leon could cut the sleeve off of his security uniform and use that as a makeshift bandage. Hopefully there would be enough left over for his splint, though. He supposed the stranger probably needed the medical attention more, so it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he couldn't make it. Not that he'd be particularly happy about it though.

The man - Leon - was evidently a little startled that the bloodied corpse on the floor had struck up a conversation with him. Seeing that he was absolutely soaked in blood that obviously did not belong to him, Kieran decided that the best course of action to avoid getting stuck with a knife was probably to try not to freak him out any more.

He wasn't surprised when Leon told him that he'd managed to injure the body double. The other man was only bleeding from a few minor cuts and bruises; his clothing was splattered in enough blood to indicate a cut to an artery. From the look of the swelling, his wrist was at least badly sprained, though, and the way he stood hunched against the wall of the elevator told Kieran that he probably had some other injuries as well.

"Maybe he'll just bleed out in the street or something," he said flatly to Leon. "That would be nice, wouldn't it?"

He was not entirely sure why he was pleasantly conversing with someone who was obviously from a rival syndicate and who would probably kill him as soon as he turned his back. Maybe he did have a brain injury. He was tempted to ask what organization the man was from, but that seemed like a very quick way to escalate the situation.

Leon's voice snapped him out of his thoughts again. The idea of this likely very dangerous stranger dragging him through the building was not particularly enjoyable, Kieran decided. "No, no, I can stand," he assured Leon with a confidence he absolutely did not feel. His head was already starting to spin again just from the effort of speaking, but he was not about to embarrass himself by falling on his ass.

Kieran reached up and gripped the cold metal railing of the elevator firmly. Inhaling quickly, he yanked himself to his feet in what he hoped looked like a fluid motion. His stomach turned and his head throbbed, but he managed to keep himself upright, though he had to lean heavily against the wall. He shot Leon a tight-lipped smile. "All good."

When he glanced down at the puddle of blood on the floor, Kieran automatically assumed that some of the body double's blood must have dripped from Leon's clothing onto the tile below. There were no scarlet droplets at the other man's feet, however, and Kieran realized suddenly that all that blood must have come from him. He knew that he should leave his wound alone until he could receive proper medical attention, but he brushed his fingers gingerly against his temple anyway. Most of the blood caked around it seemed to have clotted, but a small trickle still streamed from the center of the wound. He would need to get that patched up soon; he assumed that at least some of his disorientation and weakness was due to blood loss, not just the blow to his head.

The elevator jolted to a halt, and Kieran winced as the ding echoed around the cramped area. The screen above the doors displayed a large red '2'. Kieran felt a little uneasy at only being one floor above ground level, but his nerves were somewhat alleviated when the doors ground open to reveal an empty hallway.

"Okay," he said, mostly to himself, and stepped out of the open doors. Almost immediately, he lurched aggressively to the side of the hallway, just barely catching himself against an office door. His injury was obviously worse than he'd anticipated; he probably had a bad concussion at the very best. He straightened up as he heard Leon exit the elevator behind him. Being so frail and weak was going to get him killed unless he'd stumbled across the most benevolent assassin in the world.

Kieran cleared his throat and turned to Leon. "There should be a couple storage closets and cleaning rooms on each floor. We can stop in one of them and see if there's anything we can use to make you a sling." He nodded at Leon's wrist, taking care not to mention that he desperately needed to find something to patch up his head with.

Kieran continued down the hallway, slowly this time to avoid careening into the walls. He jiggled a few doorknobs before he found an unlocked one leading into a storage closet. The room looked like it hadn't been touched it years. Moldering cardboard boxes lined each of the walls, and a thick layer of dusty lay over every surface. Kieran sneezed as he flipped the light switch next to the doorway; the ancient lightbulb overhead flickered on for a moment, then went dark abruptly. He sighed softly and ventured farther into the dim room. "If we don't find anything in here, we can look for a cleaning closet," he called over his shoulder, hoping that Leon had trailed after him from the elevator.

Kieran started at a shelf just level with his chest. The idea of reaching up or bending down made his head pound, so he settled for whatever was easily within reach. Most of the cardboard boxes were full of blank sheafs of paper or replacement parts for printers and other devices. He could hear Leon rummaging around as well, and felt a bit better. Both of their chances were drastically improved by having the other with them. If Leon decided that he was more useful alive, he just might make it out of this hellhole.

Kieran finally stumbled across a large box filled to the brim with rolls of paper towels. He held one up triumphantly for Leon to see. "Are you bleeding anywhere? For your arm, we can rip off one of our sleeves and use these to pad it so it doesn't get all jostled around." He almost added 'when we get out of here' at the end, but he decided that he wasn't quite that optimistic yet.

Kieran sat heavily on one of the bigger boxes near the center of the room with a fresh roll of paper towels. He was a little nervous about fussing too much with his wound; if he had a concussion, it would probably just sting, but he could do a lot more damage if he had a skull fracture or something along those lines. Very slowly, he tugged his sleeves over his knuckles and swiped at the caked blood lining the edges of the wound.

It stung like he had poured alcohol into it. Kieran swore loudly and jerked his hand away. "Sorry," he called to Leon, still hesitant to startle the other man in case he had a knife stuck up his sleeve. He could feel a fresh stream of blood trickling down his temple where he had irritated the wound. He groaned and dabbed gently at the flow of blood. "If you need help with your sling..." He trailed off, feeling awkward about offering his help. "Just give a shout," he finished flatly, and went back to cleaning his wound.

Leon nodded in response to Kieran’s wistful thinking.

“If only. Doubt that’ll happen with my luck today…” He gave Kieran’s head wound a mildly rueful glance before continuing. “...Or yours, for that matter.”

Leon wondered briefly if the body double would continue to hunt him down after this – if there was an after this – before deciding not to linger on such a frankly unpleasant idea. He’d cross that bridge when he gets to it.

Leon watched as Kieran stumbled into the dark and empty hallway, nearly tripping before catching himself just in time. Okay, he was really starting to question the wisdom of his decision to bring this guy along. This was the new plan though, and there was no chance he was going to derail things yet again. He wasn’t even in any state to follow proper procedure if he did kill him, it would all be far too sloppy and rushed. He could put up with this for now, surely. He didn’t say anything about his less-then-graceful exit, but grimaced when he turned to look back at him as they both walked down the hall.

Kieran spoke again, now about the possibility of finding materials for a sling in one of the storage rooms. Leon, in his haze of pain and fight or flight, completely failed to consider that as a possibility. Not that he would let Kieran know of that fact though.

“Of course. Push comes to shove I can always try to make a sling out of this uniform. Not perfect, but it’d work. Besides, this outer-shirt is too bloody for me to be wearing outside right now anyway,” His words were steady, which he was thankful for considering the abysmal amount of pain coming from his right arm at the moment.

He decided to steer Kieran away from that specific door if he started getting close.

Luckily, it didn’t come to that. Kieran had managed to find a storage closet, all either of them could do now was hope to find something to treat their wounds. He sighed at Kieran’s next words, if they were desperate maybe they could try to use a sponge to soak up some of the blood. Leon would laugh if he wasn’t so tired by this point.

He searched through some of the boxes, while Kieran also did the same. Most of this stuff was useless to their current situation, he was hoping for curtains or sheets of some sort, though finding something like that here was likely nothing but pipe dreams. Theoretically if they couldn’t get out through the lobby then they could use the sheets to climb down from a second-story window. That would be dangerous though in their current conditions, but a gamble Leon was willing to take if it ended up coming down to it. Not like he had any luck at all finding sheets in the first place, though.

Leon turned to look at Kieran as he victoriously held up a sheet of paper towel.

“Ahah! You did it!” Leon was very briefly happy before he realized just how sad it was to celebrate over medical supplies that wasn’t even actual medical supplies.

Leon continued on to answer Kieran's question. “I don’t think so…not badly, at least. Maybe some minor cuts not even worth giving time to.”

His thoughts were broken by Kieran’s exclamation, making him flinch briefly in surprise. He cleared his throat again at his apology, attempting to play it off like he was not at all caught off guard.

“Ah, it’s fine, I get it. Shit hurts,” He did a small nod, trying not to imagine how much he was about to be in pain too in just a minute.

He was somewhat taken aback by the other man’s offer, but there was no way in hell he could accept. He’d rather keep the man at a distance for now. No favours owed, no opportunities for him to lower his guard.

“I’ll manage,” Leon replied with an equally flat tone, averting his eyes awkwardly. “Thanks though, I guess.”

Oh. I have work tomorrow.

He stared blankly at the opposite wall for a moment before laughing grimly. He quickly stopped himself once he realized what he was doing, very conscious of how that didn’t help at all with his attempts to remain non-threatening.

“Sorry, sorry,” He mumbled, looking back over to Kieran. Now it was his turn to apologize. “I just…remembered something unfortunate is all.”

It wasn’t that big of a deal, he could always call in sick or something. Not like his boss would be happy about it though, and he really did need the money, especially after this whole ordeal went so terribly. He sighed heavily, he’d find a way to make do for now.

“Anyways, we need to find some sort of escape route. I wouldn’t expect us to have much luck with the lobby,” As the words left his mouth, he realized something.

It seemed so obvious to him now. Of course there would be more than one exit, most buildings have an alternative route in case of emergency. It would only be a matter of tracking it down and finding a way to crack the lock. There was one major problem though; he wasn’t completely sure that the body double had given up on hunting him and Kieran down yet. Also there was the matter of his pistol, what if that man had decided to take it? He had been trying his best not to entertain the possibility and put it out of his mind, but he couldn’t deny it completely. If he was smart he would’ve just left, better to try again another day then to risk dying now. He supposed he’d just have to see what Kieran thought, maybe he had his own ideas.

“...Actually, I think there’s a possibility of a second door we could picklock open on the first floor,” He spoke carefully, fully aware of how insane it all sounded. “The body double would have to escape somehow, after all. But we could also see if we could climb down from a window up here. I don’t think our chances are good though. I haven't found any good materials so far, and we’re both in rough shape.”

Kieran nearly fell off of his makeshift cardboard chair as the other man's laugh echoed around the small space. He supposed it was natural to be jumpy after a near-death experience, but his heart still hammered uncomfortably against his ribs as Leon apologized.

He shook off his nerves firmly, reminding himself that although they were stuck in the same situation together, he had no reason to trust this man. They were likely from opposing organizations and had been after the same target; he could just be biding his time, waiting for Kieran to let his guard down so he could take him out with minimal effort. He returned his attention to the paper towels in his hands, but he kept Leon's figure visible in his peripheral vision. Just in case, he told himself.

The bleeding from his head wound had finally started to slow. He had at first tried to delicately blot away the quickly-drying blood caked over the injury, but he quickly realized that the blood around the wound was clotting rapidly and diminishing the stream. Once he was sure that he wasn't going to bleed out from that particular injury, Kieran turned his focus to the rest of his body. He ached from head to toe, but he could only find a handful of blossoming bruises and shallow scrapes. If he had any internal injuries... well, he wouldn't be able to do anything about them right now.

When he glanced up at Leon again, the other man had finished wrapping his wrist with the security uniform he'd been wearing earlier. That reminded Kieran that he was still aboslutely soaked with his own blood. He stood unsteadily and made his way over to the shelves lined with cardboard boxes. "Did you happen to see any extra clothing while you were digging around?" he called over his shoulder to Leon, grimacing at the thought of pawing through endless containers of ink cartridges and printer paper for the second time. He supposed he could scour the offices on this floor for a jacket left behind overnight by its owner. The thought of trekking up and down the hallways again sent a fresh wave of exhaustion surging through his body; he had the sudden urge to rest his forehead against the box before him and fall asleep where he stood. He had no idea how they were supposed to get out of the building; it had surely been surrounded by Baines's associates the moment the word got out that his body double had been attacked by not one, but two assassins. Even if they managed to slip past the miniature army likely waiting for them outside, two figures stumbling through the city covered in blood would certainly attract unwanted attention. He wasn't sure about the organization that Leon belonged to, but Nathaira, as a rule, did not send reinforcements to rescue their compromised agents. They cut their losses even with their best assassins, so Kieran could be sure that no one was coming for him.

He lifted his head reluctantly at the sound of Leon's voice. He couldn't understand what the other hitman was talking about at first. They couldn't go out through the front doors; they were either locked or guarded by Baines's personal arsenal. But slowly, his words began to take shape in Kieran's mind.

Another door on the first floor, one that likely led to the back of the building. Something clicked in his head: when he had mentioned coming in from the back of the building to the receptionist, he hadn't been corrected. "You're right," he said, disbelievingly, to Leon. "That's how the workers on 12 get in." He wasn't sure if any of what he was saying made sense to Leon, but he didn't care. Their odds had just gotten a hell of a lot better now that they had more than one way out. Even if they were locked in, Kieran could pick locks, and he was confident that Leon could, too.

He straightened up quickly, the pain lancing through his head an afterthought, and shook his head at Leon's next words. "I don't think either of us could get down through a window right now. And someone would spot us right away as we went down the wall."

Kieran crossed to the door and peered out of the tiny square window into the hall. "We should look for their security room. I don't think there's anybody else still down there, but better to be safe than sorry."

He slipped through the doorway soundlessly, leaving the door open for Leon. The hallway was still eerily silent, the only sound the dull buzzing of the emergency lights over head. Kieran's head still spun with every step he took, but focusing on the possibility of getting out of here alive helped ground him.

As he crept down the hall, he tried a few doorknobs, only to find most of the offices on this end of the hall locked. Interesting. The majority of doors closer to the elevator had been unlocked. Kieran finally stumbled across a door that yielded, leading into a shadowy but spacious office. He scoured it quickly, checking the back of the door and the tiny closet space in the corner for something to throw on over his bloodied clothes. He eventually found a black hoodie in the lowest and largest desk drawer and tugged it on over his head. It was slightly too big for him and smelled faintly of mildew, but it would have to do.

Kieran emerged back into the hallway where Leon waited. As he'd already expected, most of the rooms on this floor contained regular offices or meeting rooms. It took him several minutes to find a metal plaque affixed to the wall, 'SECURITY' engraved on it in all caps. The door next to it seemed thicker and more imposing than the others, but Kieran suspected that was his imagination. He could make out the glow of screens through the door's small window. He couldn't make out the shape of anyone inside, but they could be just out of his field of vision.

Kieran opened the door as silently as he could and stopped in his tracks. The security camera screens, while still on, displayed only static, the words "CAMERA DISABLED" filling the scren in fuzzy white letters. A man wearing the same security vest he'd seen on Leon was slumped unconscious under the desk, his limbs splayed awkwardly and a thin line of blood running across his forehead.

Kieran wondered briefly if Baines's body double had made a detour to do this, but that would only raise suspicions. Besides, if he was posing as Baines, why would he need to turn off the security cameras? He was supposed to be there, after all.

Kieran turned to Leon and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um. Did you do this?" He paused for a moment. "And can you undo it? I want to make sure we aren't going to run into someone down there." He didn't judge; he had come here to kill a man, just like Leon had.