CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
the gift of time

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IT WAS RATHER IRONIC, Nadine thought, that both people that had died recently had done so in a living room. It was the kind of ironic thought she couldn't control, one that burst free without her consent. Dark humor. She'd been an expert at it, back during those first few weeks after the Incident, snuggled under the paper-thin sheets of her hospital bed. Puns about death and arms and scars had become a constant to any doctors or nurses coming to check her vitals, and they occasionally popped up for the visitors, too. Even though there was no real comedy in her words—it was merely a coping mechanism, meant to help her plaster on a brave face while she fell to pieces on the inside—most were taken aback by her words. Though, given the fact that she was an eighteen-year-old girl relearning to use her arm, this wasn't so surprising.

Now, though, Nadine couldn't exactly make quips. Not only because one of the people who'd died had been Elliott—Elliott, who'd deserved better, who had died alone and in agony—but because she was practically on autopilot right now. The only reason she'd managed to get through this past week was on sheer resolve, along with a dash of hope that the route to 2019 was at the end of it. But even that was rotting. It was like the Week of Hell. Last year, when it had become nothing but a memory, she'd wondered how she'd managed to get through it. How she'd gone through each day fighting assassins, discovering the truth of the Incident, conning the police, and trying to save Vanya all without collapsing. But now that she was in yet another Week of Hell (she might as well call it 'Week of Hell 2: The Sequel Nobody Wanted'), she recalled that she had collapsed. Just not externally.

This morning, for the first time in days, she'd taken a proper look at herself in the mirror. The face that was staring back was undoubtedly hers, but it was as if she'd stepped back in time. She might as well have been thirteen, fourteen, fifteen again with her still swollen nose and two shiny black eyes. It seemed like it had been years since that fight at the Consulate, and she'd spent a solid minute wondering why she hadn't healed yet.

It wasn't just her wounds, though, that reminded her of her younger years. It was the look in her eyes—hollowed out, like someone had scooped out the life there as easily as a child might dig away the innards of a pumpkin on Halloween. It was her sunken-in cheeks, gaunt from malnutrition. It was the way that, despite her bulky muscles, her bones still somehow appeared brittle, one moment away from snapping.

She couldn't look at that reflection for long. Otherwise, she'd worry that the regression would take her back to the woman she'd been right after the Incident—nothing but skin and bones, more of a corpse or a robot than a real person. She kept thinking she'd crawled out of that stage of her life, but here was proof that, if she did nothing, she'd fall into those old patterns yet again.

At least this time, she had Molly with her. She'd helped her before, had been one of the reasons she'd gotten healthy again. Hopefully, if this ended, they could do that again.

When Nadine got dressed, she suddenly became aware of the fact that her migraine—her supernova—had finally left. That was relieving—it would have been cause for concern if it kept bothering her. Her body may have been punishing her for going over her limits, but if the sickness prevailed for more than twenty-four hours, it would mean that she was even weaker than she'd first thought. Which, considering the practicalities of her abilities, would have been detrimental.

She stretched, popping out the knots in her back. To her surprise—and relief—she'd actually managed to get a decent amount of sleep last night. When she'd woken up, she hadn't been drained, a walking zombie; she'd actually been fairly clearheaded. Though that didn't mean she wasn't feeling shitty. She was. Not only physically, but mentally, sick with the worry of what the coming days would bring.

The police must have identified her now. Yes, there were plenty of blonde-haired, blue-eyed white women in Dallas, but very few of them had the height and the stature that Nadine had. Very few of them had French accents curling their syllables and scars marring their knuckles.

Hopefully, no one had seen her arrive at Allison and Raymond's house. If the police knew where she was, then she was putting the couple in very real danger, especially after the recent protest that had occurred. Plus, according to Allison, Raymond had been assaulted by the DPD only a few days ago. He would've died if not for Allison, who'd Rumored the officer to walk away.

Either the same stunt worked again, or the police might just finish the job.

After washing up in Allison's bathroom, Nadine came downstairs to the smell of bacon and eggs. The source? One Molly Hamasaki, wearing one of Allison's aprons. Of course, it was her. When Molly was stressed, she cooked or baked. Nadine had come home to enough cakes or stews to have that ingrained into her. And it also happened to be one of her love languages. A way of saying thank-you, when just words couldn't quite do it justice.

Klaus was awake, too, and having another conversation with a ghost while he sat on the floor. Nadine was used to this by now, even though most people would be alarmed at the sight of someone talking to empty space. She gave him a wave, then passed by him and the body of the Swede to head into the kitchen. Allison and Raymond were both there, too, sipping coffee at the table. Raymond kept casting nervous looks to the living room while Allison rubbed his shoulder consolingly.

She did look up when Nadine came in, though. "Hey," she said gently, watching Nadine sit down. "How are you?"

"I'm all right," Nadine responded. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't quite the full truth, either. "My headache's gone, and I managed to get some sleep last night. I guess that's all I can ask for, during times like these."

Raymond nodded dully. He didn't seem much for conversation, but Nadine didn't exactly blame him. He'd evidently been through a shock.

Molly, at the stove, turned to give her girlfriend a grin. "You even slept longer than I did, Nads," she said. "I think you needed your rest."

Nadine gave her a weak smile. She couldn't muster up the energy to strengthen it.

Molly ladled their food onto plates and brought them over to the table. All three of them thanked her for it. It was just a typical breakfast, but Nadine hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. So, as soon as it was in front of her, she dug in, shovelling food into her mouth like it would be taken away from her in an instant. To her ravenous belly, it was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted.

When they were finished, they stacked their dishes in the sink, and, for the second time in two days, went to deal with a corpse. Today, Allison and Raymond decided to wrap the body in their rug, which was far too nice to house someone who had tortured and murdered Elliott. Though it wasn't like they had too many options.

Nadine and Molly (whose hands were shaking) both helped heave the dead Swede (who they didn't even know the name of, nor did they care to find out) off the couch. His body rolled right onto the rug, limbs flopping, mouth still open in that shocked grimace. Allison had said that she Rumored his brother to kill him. That his own flesh and blood had, without his own free will, wrapped his hands around his throat and choked the life out of him. It must've been a horrible way to die, staring into the eyes of the one you thought you could trust. Nadine would've pitied him if he hadn't done what he did to Elliott.

As soon as the Swede was on the rug, Klaus plopped down on the couch. He'd offered to help, but there were already too many hands. In fact, Allison dismissed Molly, instructing her to go sit down, too. Molly seemed immensely grateful for that, and immediately walked over to the sink to clean her hands of the Swede's blood.

"We've still got to find Diego and Vanya," Nadine pointed out as they wrapped the rug around the Swede. It probably wasn't a good time to bring it up, but at the rate this week was going, if Nadine kept her mouth shut every time something batshit insane happened, she'd never open it again. "They didn't show up at the alleyway, either. We think something might have happened to them."

"All right, then, we'll go to Vanya's after this," said Allison, biting her lip. Raymond's eyes darted between the two of them. He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, evidently wondering how they could be so casual. Nadine had no idea. It was hard to believe that this was the kind of shit she was used to, now.

Once the corpse was completely covered by the rug, Allison brought up one end and tied it closed. Raymond did the same on the other side, and Nadine adjusted the middle. While the three of them were working (and Molly, being the angel she was, went to make them tea), Allison grumbled, "God, why are people so much heavier when they're dead?"

Raymond, on the other end, looked up at her. "You got a lot of practice at this?"

Allison didn't answer.

"It's the distribution of weight," said Nadine absently, smoothing out the rug. She kept thinking about how the body wrapped inside it had murdered Elliott. How it was his eyes Elliott had likely looked into as the knife entered his chest, as his vitals started to shut down. "They're not actually heavier. They're just no longer using their muscles to hold themselves together." She clenched her fists. Yet again, blood speckled her hands. "Don't worry, though. Between the three of us, I think we can get him up."

"That was a rhetorical question, but thanks, Nadine," said Allison. "Should I be concerned that you know that?"

"I had a unit in forensic anthropology in high school," Nadine responded, tightening the middle strings. "I know, I know, it's a weird thing to teach sixteen-year-olds, but it was interesting as shit. Probably one of my favourite units, to be honest."

As she spoke, Klaus, yet again, chattered onto a ghost beside him. Allison shot him a look, and then returned to her work, as accustomed to this as Nadine was. The trio all finished up their knots, and then Raymond prepared them to lift the body. "Okay," he said. Allison took the front, he took the back, and Nadine's strong arms readied to raise the middle. "One... two..."

With the three of them, lifting the corpse was fairly simple. Nadine did get the sense that she was doing most of the work, but Allison was definitely playing a fairly good part, too. Raymond, on the other hand, wasn't exactly built for this. He was immediately gasping for air, and by the time the body was about at the level of Klaus's head, he was trembling.

Before they could start to move the body, however, a bright blue flash suddenly filled the room, along with a whoosh and the taste of metal in Nadine's mouth. Nadine, startled, cried out, losing hold on the body. Allison and Raymond did as well, leaping back with startled screams. This resulted in the corpse clattering back to the floor just as two figures materialized in the living room.

One of them Nadine recognized, even as her mind reeled. It was Diego, heading towards them nonchalantly as if he hadn't literally just appeared out of nowhere. The other figure was another man, though significantly shorter. He didn't even reach Diego's shoulders.

As Nadine's mind was replaying the oh-so-eloquent phrase of whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck, Diego said, "Oh, good. Three of you are here. All right, we gotta go."

"Diego, Jesus!" screamed Allison, practically on the cusp of a heart attack. Nadine didn't blame her. Her own heart rate had not yet managed to return to normal.

"For fuck's sake," she snapped. "You couldn't give us a goddamn warning?"

Diego gave a sheepish shrug, just as the smaller man beside him let out an awed chuckle. "Wow. Number Two, Three, and Four. We almost have an Umbrella straight flush here." Then his eyes landed on Nadine and nearly doubled in size. "And Nadine Vidal! Oh, I didn't realize I was in the presence of so many celebrities."

Nadine was immediately lost. Celebrities? What the hell was he talking about? Who was this guy?

Allison didn't seem to have picked up on this. Instead, she focused on introducing Diego. "Ray, this is my other brother, Diego."

Diego stepped up to Raymond, who'd pressed himself against the wall, eyes wild. "Hey, man," he greeted, extending a hand. "Sorry to crash in here like this."

After a hesitant moment, Raymond shook.

Klaus, meanwhile, was more focused on Diego's companion. "Hey, who is this guy?" he asked.

"Herb," explained Diego. "He worked with Five at the Commission."

At once, all the air rushed out of Nadine's lungs. Blood roared in her ears, and her shoulder seared with pain, as if the bullet wound there was brand-new. Red spotted her vision.

The Commission. The fucking Commission. The company dead set on ruining her life—or ending it entirely.

She couldn't find the breath to say anything for a minute, so it was instead Klaus who inquired about it. "The Commission?"

"We monitor and maintain the time-space continuum," Herb explained nonchalantly, as if everything was all fine and fucking dandy. Which is might as well have been for him, the murderer.

It took a few seconds, but finally, Nadine was able to breathe again. As soon as she could, she lunged forward and seized Herb by the collar. She was in such a state, and Herb was so small, that the force of her grab lifted him right off his feet. His legs dangled in the air, and he choked, taken aback. Nadine bared her teeth, feral.

"You're with them?" she growled. "You're with the Commission? You're with the people who shot me in the fucking shoulder?"

Herb held up his hands in surrender. "Wait, no. No, I'm... I'm just an analyst. I had no part in that."

Nadine shook him. "You still work for the company, though," she snarled. "The company that murders innocent people. You know my name. You know I was one of them—"

"Nadine!" Diego gripped her arms, trying to jolt her back into relative calmness. "Nadine. Let him go. He's fine."

Nadine let out a delirious laugh. "Fine? Fine? You do recall that the Commission tried to kill me when I was eighteen. You do recall that I was some kind of—some kind of anomaly to them? A glitch in their perfect fucking system, just because I might save the world? You do recall that the Commission tried to kill us both back at the Mexican consulate?"

Herb was shaking his head madly. "No, no, you have to understand," he said. "I... I know what you're talking about. The Swedes... they were under specific orders not to kill you. Rough you up, sure, but keep you alive. I heard it in passing, from another employee—"

Nadine's head was seriously about to pop off. "What?"

"The Handler, she—she specifically wanted you alive. Don't ask me why—I don't know. I just know that since you've been here, the strike team has been under orders to stay away from you. The only reason you were attacked back at—back at the Consulate was because you got in their way."

Nadine released Herb's collar without bothering to set him down. He fell to the floor roughly and landed right on his ass. As he groaned and tried to pick himself back up, Nadine asked, "Who the hell is The Handler?"

And why did her name sound so familiar?

"Nadine, stop," said Diego, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Look, I know you obviously have questions, but just listen, okay? This is important, and we're running out of time.

"I just came from the Commission—it's a long story, but it was awesome. I got to look at the timeline. I know what causes doomsday." He paused, taking in a deep breath, and then continued, "It's Vanya."

Allison's hands dropped. "Wait, what?"

Nadine was seriously going to be sick. Her mind was reeling with a hundred different questions, all of them trying to get to the forefront at the same time. "No, no, that's impossible," she said, shaking her head. "Vanya's not—she's not like she was in 2019. She's... she's more stable now. More controlled. She's not the emotional wreck she was when she caused the first apocalypse."

"Nadine's right," said Klaus weakly. He'd gotten up from his spot on the couch to join them. "Vanny isn't like how she was before."

"It's different this time," Diego explained. "She's gonna blow up the federal building at Dealey Plaza just as the president's passing through in less than one hour." He checked the watch Five had given him. "We gotta find her, and stop her, now."

"Wait, Vanya kills the president?" Allison asked, bewildered.

"No, no, no. See, the explosion causes the motorcade to drive off. Kennedy lives. Everybody thinks Russia's behind it, including the president. He strikes back, they strike back. Before you know it, it's raining nukes."

Nadine's heart dropped. "But why is Vanya at the federal building in the first place? Shouldn't she—shouldn't she be back at the farm?"

Diego swallowed. "I think... I think she might've gotten intercepted by the FBI when she was trying to meet you guys at the alleyway. You know Vanya's a Russian name, right? They might've thought she was some kind of commie spy, especially with her powers."

It was getting hard to breathe again. "So—what? You're saying the FBI is torturing Vanya?"

"I'm saying that it's a likely possibility, and that it would explain what I saw on those tapes. If she was being—if she was being hurt like that, then of course she'd lash out."

Nadine sank down onto the couch. No, no, no, no. Nadine shouldn't have cast her aside, after the dinner with Reginald Hargreeves. She should've been—she should've been more forgiving. Now Vanya was being tortured and the world was going to end and the stupid United States and stupid Russia would drag the entire world into their stupid war. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. Why did the universe hate her so fucking much?

"Holy shit," Klaus breathed.

Meanwhile, Raymond seemed on the cusp of a panic attack. His breathing immediately got heavy again, his eyes darting frantically around, and the way he was standing made Nadine think he was half tempted to just sprint out of the room. Allison noticed this and immediately went to console him. "Ray? Ray, baby. Are... are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay," Raymond responded. Nadine could certainly respect that, since she was also 100% not okay. He gestured to Herb. "First of all, this son of a bitch beams into our living room with yet another one of your brothers, and he's talking about stopping one of your sisters from blowing up some buildings, and I got a dead man wrapped up in my best rug, babe."

"Okay. Okay, okay. Can we... can we... Raymond. Ray. Ray."

"We can have that shampooed," offered Herb, then turned to face Diego, Klaus, and Nadine. "We also provide body removal services."

"I'm going to kill this little shit," Nadine muttered.

As Allison continued to try and comfort her husband, Molly entered the room, carrying a tray with a teapot, several mugs, and a bowl of sugar cubes. She abruptly drew to a halt when she noticed Diego and Herb's presence, and the fact that Raymond appeared to be about to have a nervous breakdown. She cleared her throat.

"I can see I've come at a bad time," she began, "but would anyone like some tea?"

There wasn't time for Diego, Nadine, Klaus or Allison to have tea, but there was for Raymond. Allison poured him a cup, kissed him goodbye, and told him she'd be back soon. While they were exchanging a tender farewell, Nadine walked up to Molly. Her mind was still spinning, but seeing her girlfriend's face made things feel a little more bearable.

"We're going to the federal building," she said. "The FBI—apparently, they have Vanya there. And if we don't do anything, she's going to blow it up and end the world. So... Molls, I want—I want you to stay here. I want you to be safe, all right? If you got hurt again... I don't know what I'd do with myself."

Molly exhaled shakily. "I won't interfere with you," she began, "but I'm coming with, anyway. The president's going to be at Dealey Plaza soon, and I promised my grandparents I'd meet them there. The Frankel Footage, remember? And this way, I'll be able to be close."

A tremendous wave of relief washed over Nadine. "All right," she said. "All right, good."

"Nads..." Molly began. "Be careful, okay? I don't really understand what's going on, but I do know that you're going into some kind of danger again. Please, just promise me not to take any unnecessary risks. If you got hurt again, like you did at the Consulate... I don't know how I could possibly bear it."

Nadine reached out and took her hand. "I'll be careful," she said. "I promise."

It wasn't a promise she was sure she could keep, but she said it anyway, because she loved Molly Hamasaki with every fiber of her being.

"Nadine, Molly," said Diego. "C'mon, we have to go."

Nadine's hand tightened on Molly's. "All right," she said, then clenched her jaw. "Let's do this."

There were so many questions still left unanswered, a whole interrogation she wanted to assail Herb with, but there wasn't the time. During these past few days, Nadine had realized how precious time was. Like a handful of glittery jewels, it wasn't something you just wanted to lose.

She wasn't sure how much time she had left as she said goodbye to Raymond and Herb and set off with the others. She wasn't sure if the mission at the FBI building would be successful, and she wasn't sure if she'd even make it through the day. But what she was sure about was that she was going to savour every second she had left. Time could be a curse, but it was also a gift. After all, it had given her two years with Molly Hamasaki. After all, it had given her thirty-one years to live, to laugh, to breathe. Thirty-one years that weren't all good, but not bad, either.

So as Nadine slid into the car, preparing for one of the most important missions at all, she closed her eyes, held Molly's hand, and tried to stretch out her final moments for as long as possible.

When they arrived at the Dealey Plaza, Nadine knew her time had run out. So, with her hand still firmly clasped in her girlfriend's, she drew her close, pressing a kiss to her lips. Molly's eyes fluttered shut, and she deepened the gesture, until two halves became whole, and, for a moment, they were one again.

When they split apart, Molly whispered, "I love you."

"I love you," Nadine responded. "You are my Moon, Molly. Don't forget it."

Then she was off with Allison, Klaus, and Diego, to attempt to save the world.

And, as she knew by now, that meant she had to save Vanya Hargreeves first.

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HAVEN: me realizing that i'm now the same age nadine was when she was shot: 😬😬😬 i hope the handler doesn't come after me next!!

also: huh??? herb said THAT, and we just blew by it?? well, yes, but all will be explained in just a few chapters!! i've been building up to this for a long time, and i hope you're excited for the ultimate reveal!!

next chapter, we're getting a nice little molly pov and the real reunion you've all been waiting for! spoiler alert: it has to do with the title of this fic.

thanks for reading!! <333