Nov 7-8, near dawn
Sen looked for all intents and purposes like a bloody rag doll. Emphasis being on the rag doll part of that description. Blake cradled him to his chest carefully, all too aware that Sen was, despite being unconscious, undoubtedly in a lot of pain. That was just a given. Few people managed to get out of being strapped to a table and tortured without feeling a great deal of pain. That was the point of torture after all.
Blake moved through the streets easily, ignoring the strange glances that he got at times. No one was going to question him. Not if they liked their brains in their heads anyway. There were always those who didn't like their lives. At the moment, he wasn't interested in helping those unique lunatics out though. All he wanted was to get his favored possession back to a place where he could recover.
Elisa looked at the two as they entered and immediately started to move toward them. One look made her take her seat again though. Blake moved through Sen's apartment and into his bedroom with the easy familiarity of someone who had been there hundreds of times. That was probably a low estimate for the number of times that he had been there, but it was a good enough one. He had been there when Sen wasn't there. When the man was sleeping. When the man was awake but in another room and thus unaware of him. To his bed, Blake laid him out carefully, moving his arms out from under him. Then in a move that was uncharacteristic of him, he took Sen's shoes off. There was going to be blood in the bed, so what difference did it make if there was some dirt too? Apparently it mattered enough that he went through the trouble of doing that. Maybe it was out of deference for the man he was leaving behind?
There was no way of telling and asking was liable to get any answer other than the truth.