[ by now, the threat of being infected by the airborne virus himself has long since passed, though you wouldn't think so, given how murky the air still looks, how thick it feels from the smoke and terror and tension. still, he has his own pseudo-mask wrapped around the lower half of his face — a scarf from one of the vendors whom he'd helped earlier, who'd shoved it into his hands as she ran from the scene, thanking him over her shoulder. it's a wonder allen heard him at all, from how muffled his voice had been, but he won't stop to think logistics now, only to spare a moment to meet the other boy's eyes gratefully, before throwing his shoulder into the effort.
with their combined strength (more allen's than lance's, to be honest; raw strength had never really been his forte), they managed to lift and shift the overturned stall, allowing the trapped vendor to scurry out from under it. the man stammers over his thanks, gripping both boys' hands in his gratitude, before he turns and rushes away, calling names at the top of his lungs, likely meaning to check in on his own friends and family.
breathing heavily, lance turns to allen, briefly grasping the boy's upper arm. ]
no subject
with their combined strength (more allen's than lance's, to be honest; raw strength had never really been his forte), they managed to lift and shift the overturned stall, allowing the trapped vendor to scurry out from under it. the man stammers over his thanks, gripping both boys' hands in his gratitude, before he turns and rushes away, calling names at the top of his lungs, likely meaning to check in on his own friends and family.
breathing heavily, lance turns to allen, briefly grasping the boy's upper arm. ]
—thanks.