—chapter eleven, or...

❛ maybe we do deserve nice things. ❜  

UNKNOWN.

"AGAIN."

A young girl, probably less than ten, slumped to the knees. Her head hung low, sending her hair held up in a ponytail down around her in spirals. She heaved a long, haggard gasp of air like it was her first breath in days."I...no more..."

Above her head an intercom crackled. "Get up."

Another breath shook out of the girl's lungs. It sounded more like a sob. "I can't. Please..."

The intercom didn't seem to care. "Make her get up."

In a flash of movement, the only other person in the room stepped forward. It took him one long stride to make it to the little girl. Without hesitation, he took hold of the root of her ponytail and ripped her head up the sky. She screamed and flailed, but it was no use; the man was twice her size and rippling with blue-grey muscles, and he barely broke a sweat holding her captive.

The girl stared up at the intercom. With her hair out of her face, the tears streaming down her cheeks were fully visible; and as well, the rivers of black, thick, blood dripping from her skin. Her face had a litany of freshly ripped cuts, oozing onyx liquid. Her skin was so battered, one could barely make out her features. All that was clear was how young she was, and the fear radiating from her midnight eyes.

She opened her mouth, speaking through obvious soreness. "I...please. Mercy."

"There is no mercy in the real world. You only make yourself more weak."

"Please...just..."

The intercom sighed. Whoever was on the other end sounded wholly disinterested in the child's plight, like this was a regular Tuesday for them. Which, to be fair, it was, but it was still brutal to hear the being on the other end not care at all.

"She'll be fine," the voice said to the one holding her hair. "Go again."

"N-no! Please, mother! Please don't do this to me, I-I—"

Before the girl could finish her plea, the man attacked. Her flung her by her hair to the other side of the room. Her cries were reduced to a weak whimper as her body hit hard wall.

"Please," She begged weakly. Her nose dripped a mixture of blood and snot. Her eyes were barely open, so crusted over and swollen from her failures. She continued to weep as she pushed into a half-sitting, half limp position, and though she readied herself for the being's next attack, it looked like there was no point.

She looked completely pathetic.

"D-don't hurt me," She asked again, watching the man skulk in front of her. "Y-you don't want to..."

The intercom spoke up again. "Viknaar."

The man looked up. "Yes?"

"Don't waste your pity on her. Do your job."

"Yes."

The intercom fell silent. There was nothing else to be said; the damage was being done.

The small room with the girl and the man was bare of any furniture or life. It was completely white, save for the stains the girl was leaving in her path, and didn't have a visible exit. There was only a large mirror on one wall that was really more of a window. One side reflected the pitiful, disgusting reflection of the girl's failures. The other had another room where others could watch.

In the small viewing room stood a man and a woman. The man was considerably shorter than the woman, though he stood at a respectful six feet. He wore a long white jacket and held a clipboard. On it were various numbers, some with checkmarks next to them, other with x's. As he watched the girl lose yet another fight, he clicked his tongue and scratched a tiny x to the number 379.

On his left stood the towering woman. She was the voice on the intercom; the one the girl called mother. Her skin was the same blue as the girl in the room, only completely unmarred. Her face was perfectly composed in an emotionless expression, and her eyes flitted over the scene unfolding, darting like a cat watching a ball as the girl tumbled. She wore long multicoloured robes from head to toe, a garment that danced with life in the light in glorious, awe-inspiring patterns. She was the only breath of colour in the otherwise white and grey room.

"Will She be ready?" She said quietly. Her words were not in any language the Milky Way would recognise; they were guttural, but beautiful, but chilling all the same. 

The man didn't look up from his work. "We have a long road ahead of us."

"That is not what I asked."

He wetted his lips. "I believe so. She shows development. But she has low spirit."

"Yes, I noticed that." The woman curled her lip as the girl sobbed. She tapped a small button; the cries were muted. "We will fix that."

"You..." the man looked away from his clipboard. "You still want to go through with the procedure?"

"Why would I not?"

"Well, it...it may not work."

"It will work," the woman promised. "Pain is our greatest tool with this batch. And considering how much time we have wasted doing nothing? I will not allow for another hundred years of my energy be put towards nothing."

"O-okay, but—"

She held up hand. "We will prepare her for the first operation tonight. Let it be her left, so she can be ready to train again sooner. I don't want to waste more time on her."

When the man still wavered, staring up at her with enormous amounts of guilt in his eyes, the woman groaned. "You are dismissed. Leave my presence."

He scurried away.

Alone, she turned back to the screen. The girl was splayed out on the white floor, though it didn't look so pristine and white anymore. If it weren't for the frantic, silenced movement of her mouth — some sort of pathetic plea, no doubt— there would be no signs of life. Her limbs were limp; her body was a mess of blood, snot and tears, and unmoving.

"One day, I will see my work's bounty," the woman said aloud, though no one was there but herself. "All of this will be for something. And you'll appreciate me ending your life, in the process." She watched the little girl slump to the floor on the other side of the reflection. "If you can prove your usefulness."

She turned away, to the small door in the corner. There was a being coated from head to toe in white, holding a long stick. "Drag her out," she requested. "Send her to be prepared for the amputation."

"As you wish."

"WELL. ISN'T THIS INTERESTING."

Elodie glanced up from the coffee in her hand, which she was manually reheating. Whoever Elliot was, he really had a thing for leaving coffee for hours before letting people know he made some, and it was getting on her nerves. "Do you just live for the dramatics, Fivington? Can't you ever say exactly what you mean?"

The boy exchanged his sly smirk for a glare in an instant. "One, call me that again, and you're stuck in 1963 forever."

"What? I'm just try'na figure out your real name. Five can't be like, the be-it-end-all."

Five sighed, pinching the bridge of his sharp nose. "You're so lucky you're still useful," he muttered, before lifting his other hand. In it was a newspaper, freshly printed and gleaming black font staring Elodie down. "And two, before you so rudely interrupted, I wanted to let you know, you made the news. You're welcome."

He dropped it onto the kitchen table.

In big, bold, black letters across the front read, 'GRIEVIOUS ARSON ATTACK', with a black and white portrait of the (late) Richard Livingston. Elodie didn't have to read much past the title to know what exactly he was showing her, but she skimmed it anyways. No clues on what happened, no idea if it was an accident or a brutal homicide, no witnesses. Nothing interesting.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Oh. I don't know. It might be because you turned a man into barbeque?!" Five hissed incredulously. He slammed his pointer finger down on Livingston's face. "Did you really think this was smart? Or — let me guess, you once again didn't think?! Before killing someone who wasn't supposed to die?!"

Elodie huffed and leaned back on her chair. Truth be told, she didn't feel bad. Maybe a figment of regret, but that was just because of the messy nature of the crime. Something cleaner would have been better, if she had been thinking.

"I'm not going to apologize."

"Good, because I'm not looking for a sorry. I'm looking for any sign that you're still sane. Because clearly, this is the action of an insane individual who—"

"—I only did what I had to, Five."

He laughed in that awful, condescending manner he'd perfected. "No, you didn't. You charred a man after having a very easy way out of a situation, because you wanted to."

"I was protecting myself, and I was protecting my brother."

The boy's brows raised high on his forehead. "Really? Did he, did he have a gun to Ellis' head? Or any weapon at all? Were you held down? Was your life in any danger at all?!"

She scowled and folded her arms across her chest. "I'm not having this argument with you. You don't get it."

"That's where you're wrong, kid. I do get it, and I know a lot more about you then you might realise, which is why I'm warning you to stop messing with the timeline."

"Warning me? What, you're gonna ground my ass, grandpa?!"

"I'm not going to let you get in my way," he snarled. "I hope you realise that now, before you do something stupid again and get some of us killed."

"I took care of my problem, Five. Let me handle my business, and keep your vague threats out of my way."

Five hesitated, still glaring down at her. It felt like he was holding something back; like he knew more than he was letting on. But instead of sharing, he removed his hand and the paper from sight. "I'm not wasting my time on explaining myself to you. But don't slip up again, Elodie."

"Or what?"

"Or, you'll have to look for a new job. A more permanent position here, alone. Okay? I—" Five paused and drew back. He looked past her with his frown still dark on his young face. "I'll be right back. Stay here. Don't leave."

Without another ominous word, Five disappeared. Elodie glanced behind herself to see a hulking man in a comically small bathrobe standing in the doorway. Well, slouching, neck bent so his head didn't smack against the low doorframe. He surveyed the space with a sad expression on his face.

Luther. That was the giant brother's name, right?

"Hi," Maybe-Luther said. He tried to smile, but it only made him look even more sad — a feat, considering he looked like a ginormous kicked puppy. "Are you...?"

Elodie waved her hand lazily. "I'm just drinking coffee. Feel free to come in."

He nodded and scooted past her to the tiny (tiny in comparison to him, at least) kitchen. He squatted to look into Elliot's fridge. "Huh. Not much here."

"Guess groceries haven't been on Fivington's mind."

"Who—" Luther straightened and turned to squint at her. "You're talking about Five?"

Elodie smiled wanly, "yeah. I'm trying to figure out the perfect nickname for the little shit."

"Oh." He contemplated that for a second, then, "cool. Good luck."

"Thanks."

Maybe-Luther didn't ask about what Five and her were discussing, and for that, Elodie was grateful. Though, it seemed like that was just because the man's mind was a million miles away somewhere. He seemed very distraught about something, just from the way he slowly cracked Elliot's entire carton of eggs into a pan, wearily stirring them about. His shoulders sagged like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and considering everything she knew about the Hargreeves, he probably did. 

Elodie stared at the man's back, watching him mope through scrambled eggs. "You're Luther, right?"

"Hm?" He glanced back at her. "Oh. Yeah. Guess we haven't...had a proper introduction."

"Yeah. I mean, we've definitely had our run-ins, just..."

"...not a lot of time to chat in the apocalypse."

"Yep."

Luther nodded, still half-looking her way. "You're Diego's girl, right?"

A flood of heat rushed to Elodie's cheeks at his words; and that time, it wasn't for pyromaniac reasons. "Ah. Yeah. I guess you could say that, sure."

"That's nice. How long have you two...?"

"Uh, dunno. We were on a bit of a break, considering the whole," Elodie chuckled wryly, "lost in time shitshow."

Luther's head bobbed up and down again. "Right. Well, I'm glad you two are..." he turned back to his eggs, and when he finished his sentence, he sounded much hoarser than before. "back together again. I hope you guys are...really happy."

Okay, so there was something weird there. Guess the guy had a bad time being stuck in time, too. But Elodie was too tired to poke the bear, or whatever her boyfriend's brother's genes were mutated with, so she just downed a gulp of burning hot coffee and stayed quiet.

He had an entire pan of eggs. He'd be fine.

ONE 'FAMILY' MEETING LATER, a very brief conversation with Ellis that as well as expected ("Hey, are you good to stay in here a while? Oh, okay, you're just going to stay in this small corner of the room and draw sketchy shit? Sure. You want to talk later? You're good? Oh, I totally believe that."), and a long rant about jello from the clearly unstable Elliot later, and there were now three Hargreeves in a room. 

They were halfway to Five's goal of a full family meeting, which he also insisted Elodie sitting in on, which wasn't scary at all. Five seemed to think he knew something about Elodie that she didn't, and he also seemed to think if he didn't keep her on a leash, she'd burn everything down. A nice sentiment, honestly. Super reassuring. Not at all concerning.

Until the infamous time-traveler returned, however, all the rest of them could do was sit and wait. Which now included Vanya, much to Diego's clear delight.

Her boyfriend sat to her right twirling a knife and glaring at the seventh Hargreeves vehemently. Which Elodie could get behind; Vanya did, like, try to kill them all back in 2019. Sure, it hadn't worked, and apparently she had completed forgotten everything before dropping like a hot potato in rural Texas. But everyone else still remembered. She barely knew Vanya and was kidn of pissed; she couldn't imagine how Diego felt.

"How're you feeling?" Luther asked the small woman quietly.

Vanya didn't move from her slump. "Pretty shitty, to be honest."

"Where would you say you are on a scale from one to," Diego continued to flip his knife, gaze unwavering, "ending all life on this planet?"

Vanya sighed. "Really?"

"Diego, put the knife away, you idiot. She's fine."

He snorted. "The last time I saw this one, she had me suspended midair, sucking the life out of me with energy tentacles." He leaned forward, jabbing the knife towards Luther. "I think I'm allowed a little time to process."

"Oh, I-I would love to see an energy tentacle."

Elodie squinted at Elliot, who was staring eagerly at Vanya. Was now really the time to make power requests?

Vanya sat up. "I don't remember what I did, but I'm sorry..." her hands fluttered aimlessly. "If, if that means anything."

There wasn't a response for a long moment. Diego stared at Vanya, and Elodie watched him closely, wondering if his knife was going to go into someone's skull or not. 

Finally, though, he spoke. "It does," he said softly. "Just going through a lot right now."

Vanya frowned. "Is...do you want to...talk about it?"

"Well, I just—" Diego's words got cut off, though, by a door swinging wide open and a loud, airy laugh bubbling into the room. A woman's voice floated up the stairs,

"is anyone here? Hello?"

Followed by someone mumbling on in what Allison called French, but Elodie chalked up to drunken slurs of nonsense. But they were familiar drunken slurs; she wasn't completely sure, but they sort of sounded like Klaus, one of the few Hargreeves siblings she did actually know.

One by one, the Hargreeves rose from the couch, pulled by the sound of their siblings' voices. Diego pulled lightly on Elodie's arm, a silently inquiry, but she shook her head. "Go see them," she mouthed.

He smiled tersely and let go of her hand.

As the siblings chorused and hurried down the stairs, a la happy family meeting, Elodie rubbed at her temples, already feeling a headache budding. She hadn't ever really been the family reunion type, but if this was how they usually went, she was a little glad it was just her and Ellis. 

Ellis. She should check on him.

"Where are you going?"

Elodie froze, half-standing. "Uh. Away from this shit-kebab?"

"No, you're not," Five snapped. "You're a part of this mess; you're staying."

She groaned and flopped back on the couch. "I'm not a Hargreeves. And you're royally pissed off at me for whatever reason, so I don't think I want to be here."

"And that's exactly why you're going to stay. I don't trust you anywhere alone right now." Five took a step towards her. Who knew, some schoolboy in knee socks could be so bone-chillingly terrifying? "You leave, you stay in Texas. You stay, you still stand a chance at getting back to your home. Capiche?"

She rolled her eyes, though she stayed exactly where she was. "Keep pulling this intimidation routine, and you're gonna wake up with your perfect pompadour burned off. Ca-peach?"

He smiled patronizingly down at her, "Bold to assume I sleep, kid." Sounds of footsteps came up the stairs, and Five straightened back up. He took a stance at the head of the abstract living room situation, waiting for all his siblings to trickle back in.

Diego squeezed Elodie's shoulder and leaned over her seat. She reached up and patted his hand.

Klaus squinted at her for a second, before his eyes widened in recognition. "Ah, it's you! What a surprise that my brother hasn't driven you away!"

"Hi Klaus," she said quietly. She ignored the new sets of eyes, namely Allison. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, same old, same old. I'm really just..." the man trailed off as Five shot him a 'shut up, sit down' look. "We'll catch up later," he whisper-shouted. "I want all the juicy gossip!"

Diego grumbled above her head; Elodie just smiled back at Klaus.

Once all the Hargreeves had found a seat and quieted down, the smallest of the siblings cleared his throat, indicating time for his end-of-the-world speech. He looked completely serious again, and he almost looked his age: as much as a pre-teen could look fifty-or-so years older. 

"All right." Five glanced over the group, lingering over Vanya and avoiding Elodie. "I know I really screwed the pooch on this whole going back in time and getting stuck thing. But the real kick in the pants here, is we brought the end of the world back here with us."

"Oh my God, again?!"

Elodie's brows knitted at Klaus' dramatic cry.

"All of you knew?" He whined. "Why am I always the last one to find out about the end of the—" he interrupted himself with a gasp. "Oh my God. My cult is going to be so pissed. Five!"

Cults? That was new.

"I told them we had until 2019!"

"We have until Monday. We have six days."

Any interest Elodie had in Klaus' ramblings quickly died, at Five's sober tone.

"Is it Vanya?"

"Klaus!"

He shrugged high, "what? It's usually Vanya!"

Vanya looked back to Five. If the constant reminder of her past bugged her, she didn't let on. Must be easy to do so without remembering everything, Elodie thought. She wondered if that helped swallow all this apocalypse news.

"Do you have any leads, Five?"

"We have one." Five took the file Diego offered and passed it off to Allison.

She stared at the picture inside. "Holy shit," she breathed, "is that Dad?"

"Yeah," Diego grunted.

"That's him?"

"And he's standing on the grassy knoll."

Elodie's headache grew angrier. She tried not to think about how much easier it was before she got tangled into the Hargreeves mess. Not that she wanted to be away from Diego, but...there were still benefits, as much as she did like the guy — whatever, she mused to herself. Here now, no complaining. 

Five nodded curtly. "Diego and I have been trying to talk to Dad about what exactly this means. So far, we've got nothing."

"Not nothing."

She looked up to read Diego's expression, but he didn't give much. "We know he's planning to kill Kennedy," he told the group.

"Maybe. But we don't know who or what sets doomsday in motion. Could be Kennedy," Five looked pointedly at Diego, "could be something entirely independent. But if we know something changes the timeline, we have to make it right again."

Allison, perched on the arm of one of Elliot's armchairs, spoke up. "But how, if we don't know what's broken?"

"Oh, come on. Do the math," Diego retorted. "We know Dad's having shady-ass meetings with some shady-ass people. We knows he's on the grassy knoll in three days to kill the president. So I think we all know what we have to do."

Diego stood up and came behind Five, who shared a look with the guy like, 'I know exactly what you mean'. They spoke in unison, though on completely different notes:

"Find Dad."

"Kill Dad."

Elodie's eyebrows skyrocketed towards her forehead.

Five looked back to his brother incredulously.

Fortunately, before he could rip Diego a new one, Vanya spoke. "None of us are supposed to be here, right? I mean, what if it's us? Has anyone here done anything to screw up the timeline?"

The room fell silent.

Elodie looked down to her lap, fidgeting very intensely with her sweaty fingers. She tried not to acknowledge Five's burning gaze on her scalp, but she knew it was there, digging into her brain, reminding her that he knew what she knew, and that he knew that—

"—Diego's been stalking Lee Harvey Oswald," Luther shot from across the room.

"And you're working for Jack Ruby!"

"Allison has been very involved in local politics!"

Said accused gasped, "okay, you started a cult!"

"I'm...I'm just a nanny on a farm," Vanya said defensively, over Klaus' hissing at his other sister. "I don't have anything to do with all that."

"Well, maybe you do, we just don't know it yet!"

"To be frank, all of you are screwing up the principle of time and place, but at least you're not playing Salem Witch Trials here." Five shot a pointed look towards Elodie, sending her shrinking into the couch cushions. "Isn't that right, Flashy?"

She glared at Five, biting back a dozen sharp retorts. Screw just the pompadour; she was going to take all his hair. Little shit was about to look like Caillou, if he kept trying to antagonize her like that.

Allison frowned quizzedly. "Is that why she's here?"

"Hey, hey no, I know her! She's just a bartender! She's," he paused with a contemplative look. "Oh. Wait, are you the one that goes," he threw his hands around his head, miming whooshing sounds and some sort of explosion of sorts, "Fireball by Pitbull, sorta gal?"

Allison's eyes almost popped right out of her head. "Wait. Hold on'a second, was that you in 2019? You were throwing—"

Diego cut through the tension with a sharp whistle. In a moment, all eyes flew to him.

"Listen to yourselves," he said. "Everything in our new lives is connected to Kennedy. That can't be a coincidence. Luther works for Ruby, Allison is protesting the government, Dad is on the grassy knoll, Klaus is...doing something weird and pervy but probably related."

What were her chances to getting out of this mess of a 'family meeting' alive? Probably not high anymore, right? Christ, and she thought Ellis was the biggest problem on her list.

"See, clearly, we were all sent back here for one special reason: saving John Fitzgerald Kennedy."

The Hargreeves siblings exchanged looks between themselves, and immediately broke into overlapping arguments.

Elodie couldn't quite blame them.

Honestly, and Elodie didn't want to step on any toes, but she really wasn't getting the big deal with JFK. Sure, Diego was insistent that saving his life would fix everything, but what did 'everything' mean? And wouldn't that change the course of the world, even more than her apparent crime against humanity with some million-dollar weirdo? Not that she felt the confidence to bring that up with Five breathing down her neck, but the point was still there. JFK felt like a moot point.

No matter where anyone's dads were on whatever grassy ass knolls.

"Guys."

Five's voice cut through all the overlapping arguments. Elodie looked up to see him staring down at them. He wore a strange expression, something she hadn't actually see the boy/man wear, at all since knowing him.

It almost looked like fear.

"Guys, you all die." He swallowed. "I was there. I saw it. And I wanna forget it, but I can't."

Elodie felt the familiar snake of anxiety come to squeeze at her gut. The end of the world didn't feel real, until a kid just a couple years younger than Ellis was telling his family he had to watch them die and couldn't stop it: the one person in the world who could possible do so. She knew he wasn't really that young, but he was also still just one person. And they were just a half-baked bunch of superpowered fools, trying to do the impossible.

It didn't quite feel fair. None of it.

"I watched Russian nukes vaporize the world with all of you in it...in a war that never happened until we brought it here. And Hazel gave his life to save us, so you may need to shut up and just listen to me." He swallowed, "I don't know if the things we've experienced here are all connected. I don't know if there's a reason for everything. But Dad will. We need to talk to him before everyone and everything we know is dead." 

Elodie stared at the floor, wondering if she could burn a whole through it and escape that way.

The Hargreeves siblings seemed to all be trying to process Five's somber speech.

Luther was the first to react.

"Okay. I'm out." He staggered out of his too-small seat and headed for the stairs.

"Did you even hear me, Luther?"

The hulking man paused just behind Elodie's seat, casting a tall, dark shadow. "Yeah. Yeah I did. I heard a fifty-eight year old man who still wants his daddy to come and fix everything. And you can count me out." He scoffed and looked at his siblings, "it's time we all grew the hell up."

"Luther!"

"Luther, come back."

"Where you going?" Klaus whined, slouched haphazardly on his armchair.

Diego took off immediately after his brother, even as Luther protested otherwise. Elodie watched them hurry down the stairs. Five flashed off after them.

A second later there was a cry from Five, the familiar sound of the annoying git flashing off somewhere, and two sets of footsteps storming off towards the exit. Elodie took that as a sign that the family meeting was officially coming to a close.

"Well, that was fun," she grumbled, relief flooding her senses. She rose to her feet and dusted off her dress. "Nice seeing you all, but I'll be off now."

"I — wait, where are you going?!"

Elodie blinked and looked back at Allison, who had very strangely protested her exit. Odd, considering her and Vanya were the ones she had the least interactions with? They had seen each other twice, and one of those times Allison was bleeding to death on a table, so it wasn't too conversational. She really didn't think they had much to talk about, especially since she had nothing the entire meeting.

Sure, Klaus had said some stuff about her — but they were all screwed up superlosers. Couldn't they leave that be? Did they have to torture her further with a ice-breaker game of interrogation?

"I'm sorry, I'm only assuming this call for action is over now...? And I have places to be."

"And what are those places, stranger?"

"Allison," Vanya hissed, "we don't have to—"

"—we all know why we're here. But she, do any of us really know her? Past her being there at the end of the world and what Five implied, which is that she's burning people alive?" Allison folded her arms and glared, "I just don't know why we're brushing past this."

Klaus giggled. "Well, I can say that Diego knows her. Very, very well, if you sort of," he mimed crass actions with his fingers, winking at the group as he did so.

Elodie rolled her eyes. Anxiety nibbled at her throat, making it a thousand times harder to fake not being completely overwhelmed, but she still tried. "Amazing. Sure. Nice to meet you all again, I'm Elodie Verbeck. Five doesn't know what he's talking about, I swear. I got stuck in good ol' Texas like the rest of you. And I am dating your brother — thanks for the crudeness, Klaus."

"Anytime."

Vanya half-squinted at her from her slumped seat. "How'd you get here with us?"

"Oh. Uh, I was there. For your performance?"

"So you were the person on fire?"

Elodie winced as Vanya immediately gasped at Allison's bluntness. "Yeah, yeah that was me. I get hot sometimes. I'm working on it. Can I — can I go now? I have a kid to check on—"

"—you have a kid, too?!"

"Not my kid, not really, he's my brother, I just take care of him and I am technically his legal guardian and he accidentally got brought into this shitshow too. It's a long story; honestly all of this is. Can we save it for another time?" Without waiting for another second, Elodie gave the trio a thumb's up and a fake smile and made a run for it.

Allison called after her, but Elodie just tuned her out.

Maybe not the smartest plan, but she'd deal with Allison's skepticism, Vanya's bewilderment and Klaus' crass tongue later. She needed a break.

Instead of straightaway heading to Ellis, Elodie slipped into the door on the right, a tiny bathroom. She locked the door behind her and slumped against it.

"Good job," she muttered sarcastically through deep, haggard breaths, "you're still doing absolutely nothing!" She shot her green-tinted reflection a thumb's up before scrubbing said hand down her face, resting her head on her palm. "God, I'm so tired."

Elodie tried not to be the complaining sort. But she was tired. Completely exhausted. She missed her own home, with her own bed, with the Ellis she knew who still trusted her with things. She missed being engaged to Diego, even when it was turbulent and messy and sure, maybe too unhealthy. She missed her fake fireplace with the pictures of Ellis eating birthday cake for the first time, and Diego kissing her cheek, and Charlie fucking Alonzo, and everyone else she had just left behind. Not to mention the truth about herself and her real family, which she had only just started to unravel before being shot into the past.

"I don't want to keep doing this," she whispered. "I don't think I'm strong enough to keep doing this. I-I don't know why I'm the one expected to do this. I mean, look at me!" She gestured at her frazzled expression, who looked very much a mess and very much not a time-travelling superhero. "I am really not the person you want involved in shit like this, am I?"

Her reflection didn't have anything to offer to that. She just looked on sadly.

Elodie raised her hands and willed the always-present energy to build. She watched as gentle flames erupted over her skin, casting the green-shaded bathroom with a soft, orange glow. The fire danced in her palms; in the reflection, it almost looked like cozy candlelight.

She let it burn a little brighter. Watched the fire spread up her forearms. It didn't feel so pretty when she remembered all the horrible things that fire had done to others. The desiccated corpse she had left for her grandmother to find, the horrified look in Ellis' eyes when he found her on the floor, burning. The people her father made her age into ashes, even while they were still screaming.

She'd almost been able to forget about that, too. But after what Five had said to her, and everything Ellis' called her, it'd been harder and harder to get out of her head. And she still...she didn't feel bad. Not about all of it, not for Livingston. How much more of a monster did that make her?

Elodie stepped forward to the sink. She turned it on, making sure the water was as cold as it could be. Without extinguishing the flames, she put her hands under the faucet. The fire still danced. It barely looked bothered by the water.

"What a joke, this all is," she contemplated. Slowly, she let the fire go out. "What a stupid joke."

Elodie turned off the water. She dried her hands on a towel that had clearly seen better days. She avoided her reflection in the mirror and headed straight for the door. She'd go check on Ellis again; she'd really push him, this time. Try to level with him. Explain it didn't matter what he was doing, just that she wanted to help. She wanted to be there for him! Just so—

"—aH!"

Elodie stumbled back from the bathroom door. Just as she had reached for the knob, a great blue flash of light and Five fucking Hargreeves stopped her. She crashed back into the sink, staring at him with wide eyes.

"I...shit, Fivey," she breathed, hand over her chest. "I could'a been naked in here, y'know that? Do you know what privacy is, dickwad?"

The boy/man completely ignored her protests. In fact, it almost looked like he hadn't heard them at all. His eyes were dark and piercing, freezing Elodie into one place. And prior to every time she had seen the kid/not a kid, Five's clothes were a mess. Untucked shirt, dirty blazer and was...was that blood on his neatly kept shoes?

Elodie looked up from his loafers to his face again. She couldn't understand his expression, a mix of gut-wrenching pain and red-hot rage, boiling under his pale skin. He looked like he couldn't decide between wringing her neck and breaking down into tears. Knowing the kid/not a kid, the former was probably much more likely.

Unfortunately.

She adjusted her stance against the sink, taking a more protective position. Her hands started to heat up again. 

"Five," Elodie said slowly, raising her hands in front of her. "What's...what's going on here?"

His lip curled. But still he didn't speak. He just stared up at her with the fiercest expression she'd seen him wear yet. She wondered if this was it; if he was just going to take her out of his equation this way.

"Five...?"

"What," he said, slowly, menacingly, "the hell," he paused to stagger another breath, chest rising sharply and falling, "did you do, Elodie?"

It took me so long to update this book, we got a whole new season. And an announcement for the final season. Who would'a thought.

Sequels are really not my forte. But I swear I'm trying!

Also, thanks to the bajillions of new people who flooded to Chaos Theory/Pyromania after S3! Tbh, my love for the books has been trickling down but then CT got 40k+ new reads and it was a nice ego boost. :)