heist [arlo, day 5, vault]

Arlo puked up bile over his shoes. He shook, his arm practically detached where Marik had managed to get at him. He frantically had run and run and run some more to get away from everyone else. Maybe to lock himself inside a vault and never come out. Maybe he could just rot away in here, body decomposing and maggots feasting on his flesh and bones until he was reduced to nothing.

All back to nothing. Where Tavi was waiting. Still. And Arlo was too much of a coward to follow, despite the ribbons pinned to his shirt that said otherwise.

He slips in his puke as he continues ahead, eyes full to the brim with tears as he tried to get his arm to work; it didn't, his fingers refused to move. He'd just killed someone. He takes a shuddering breath.

"It's not fucking calculus."