▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ᴀ sᴛʀᴏɴɢ &
ᴜɴɪᴛᴇᴅ ғʀᴏɴᴛ ꒱


❝ TOUCH HIM, & I'LL
BREAK YOUR WRIST ❞

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Dolores sat in the backseat of the blue car as Luther drove it down the country road. She'd been sent to the back because it was "statistically safer" according to her husband— though a part of her knew he also didn't trust Luther to be in close proximity with her again. Too tired to be stubborn about it, she'd agreed while Five had taken shotgun. Now, the three of them sat in silence as they approached their destination, all lost in their own individual thoughts.

The brunette was currently thinking about their upcoming meeting with The Handler. She knew it was inevitable— that in order to have enough time, they'd need to work with her— but if she had a choice, she'd never see that woman again. The white-haired woman gave her the creeps and Dolores definitely didn't like how she interacted with her husband. After everything that had happened so far, she had a very minimal control of her emotions and she knew she'd have a hard time keeping her temper in check.

The car pulled to a stop and almost immediately, the girl unbuckled her seatbelt. She climbed through the middle of the two front seats to land herself on Five's lap, curling up against him with her back pressed to the door as his arms wrapped around her supportively. She leaned her head against the boy's shoulder, ignoring Luther's slightly uncomfortable look as she took one of his hands in both of hers. They sat in silence for a few more minute before Five spoke suddenly: "you know, I never enjoyed it."

Luther looked over at him. "What?"

"The killing," he explained and, despite the thoughtful tone of his voice, Dolores could feel the boy's frame coil up tightly underneath her like a spring. "I mean, I was good at my work and I took pride in it, but it never gave me pleasure." His hand reached up to absentmindedly stroke her hair. "I think it was the pressure to survive. That sort of solitude can do funny things to the mind."

The brunette frowned as she remembered the long days and even longer nights when Five had barely looked in her direction when he'd come back from a mission, then the interminable time when he was gone that followed.

"Yeah, well, you were gone for such a long time," his brother agreed. "I only spent for years on the moon but that was enough for me."

Dolores hesitated before she spoke: "I didn't mind it."

The boy tilted his head downwards to look at her, his brows furrowed. "What?"

"Being alone," she clarified, "it was alright. You can only judge yourself when you're alone, no one could hurt you or make you feel bad about yourself. Or make you think you're weird." She sighed. "You can just. . . be."

Five's expression turned into one of faint surprise, "I didn't know you thought that."

A small smile graced her lips. "Yeah, well. I haven't been alone for a long time."

Luther cleared his throat to draw the pair's attention away from each other as he gestured to the black briefcase that sat on the console. "You think they'll buy it?"

"Well, what I know is that they're desperate," Five said, "it's like a cop losing his gun. If The Commission finds out, they'll be in deep shit. Oh, not to mention the fact that they'll be stuck here until they get it back."

"Well, I should hold on to it."

"Hm?"

"In case they make a move on you."

"Okay, Luther, but be careful," the boy told him. "I mean, I've lived a long life, but you're still a young man. You got your whole life ahead of you. Don't waste it."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Dolores couldn't help but feel a faint flicker of amusement. "Fives?"

"Yeah?"

"You do know you're younger than Luther right now, right?"

"Only physically, Dolly," he replied lightly. The mood quickly sobered as another car drove past them and stopped a few feet ahead of where they were parked. "Here we go."

"Show time," the girl agreed before she climbed out of the car.

The two assassins got out of their vehicle— still wearing their costume masks— as the Hargreeves men joined her. Before Five left his brother and wife by their car, he turned to the girl with a bittersweet look on his face as he started softly: "Dol, if this all goes south—"

The girl's eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"You just have to take into account—"

"I don't have to take anything into account," she interrupted him swiftly. "I'm coming with you."

Now it was his turn to give her a stern look. "You better damn well believe that I'm not going to let you be collateral."

"I know, so having me there will curb your reckless tendencies."

"I am not—" he started to protest hotly, but at the sound of the assassin's approaching footsteps, he cut himself off. He glared at the brunette, knowing they didn't have time to argue. "Fine. Just let me do the talking, okay?"

She smiled sweetly at him as they fell into step together. "That was never the question, dearest."

He rolled his eyes at her mocking tone though he showed he that wasn't really annoyed by reaching down to grab her hand. (The Commission already knew they were married so there was no point in hiding it.) Dolores communicated that she wasn't truly irritated by squeezing his hand three times.

As the two pairs approached each other, Five called out: "are the masks really necessary?"

The two hitman exchanged a look before they simultaneously removed the face coverings and threw them to the side. The woman spoke first: "so, where is it, kid?"

"Wow, that's how you're gonna start," Five said, shoving his free hand into the pocket of his shorts. The hand grasping Dolores' tightened in readiness of quick escape. "You know, we can get right back in our car and call it a day."

"You won't even make it halfway there," Cha-Cha retorted. She pulled out a handgun and aimed it at Five.

Dolores tensed as every instinct screamed at her to jump in front of her husband to block him from the path of potential bullets, but she remained firmly in her place; even the slightest movement could trigger a negative chain reaction.

"Maybe," the boy replied calmly, "but as I'm sure you found out in your previous foray, my brother is not your average giant."

"He's right," Hazel agreed. "You dropped a chandelier on him, got right back up."

"By the time you took him out, he'd smash your precious briefcase to a pulp," Five continued.

"So, how do we help each other?" the man asked, waving his own gun around as he spoke.

"I need you to get in contact with your superior so I can have a chat with her face-to-face."

"About what?" the woman questioned him.

"Well, I don't believe that's any of your concern," Five answered easily.

There was a moment's hesitation as the woman clenched her jaw as she thought before she sighed. "Just don't tell her about the briefcase."

"Fair enough."

The two assassins lowered their guns, though neither Five's nor Dolores' eyes left their figures as both parties backed away from each other. The younger pair returned to where Luther was waiting for them at their car and watched from a distance as Cha-Cha used the payphone to make the call.

"What happens now?" Luther asked.

"Now, we wait," the boy answered, leaning against the trunk of the car. Despite his nonchalance, however, his grip was still quite firm on Dolores' hand.

Suddenly, a new sound was heard, breaking through the relative quiet of the countryside. The rev of an engine was accompanied by a high-pitched version of "Ride of the Valkyries." Everyone turned in the direction of the noise to see an ice cream truck hurtling down the road at breakneck speed.

"Is that her?" Luther asked dumbly, watching the oncoming vehicle with confusion.

Dolores snorted at the thought, the answer to the question appearing as it passed the trio. Klaus stuck his head out of the window and waved his hand with the "Hello" tattoo on it at them, a wide smile beaming on his face. The brunette quickly scanned the other occupants of the truck and was relieved to see she wasn't present. The brunette made a mental note to go through her most recent memories to find out what had become of her past self.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Five wondered as the truck flew past.

"Go faster!" Diego's cry could be heard over the accompanying music.

"It's a set up!" Cha-Cha yelled as the vehicle hurtled straight towards them. The two assassins reacted by raising their guns and sending a spray of bullets towards Luther, Five and Dolores and the Hargreeves in the truck. Luther stepped in front of the younger couple to shield them from the oncoming shots. He held out his arms as the truck ran straight into the shooting pair, sending them flying through the air.

Dolores wasn't even aware she'd closed her eyes but she realized that she had when she opened them again to see the scene around her completely still, as if someone had pressed pause on a remote. The only other person who was moving was the boy next to her, which she was immensely grateful for.

Luther's large form stood stock still in front of them and the quickly-moving truck was frozen place. Hazel and Cha-Cha's upward arc had them suspended in midair with their bullets sprayed— but motionless— around them. That wasn't all that was strange, though. The sky appeared to be a more intense shade of blue while the trees had turned a bright shade of orange. The whole scene to looked like a saturated picture.

"Neat trick isn't it?" A woman's voice broke through the silence, causing the two to turn to her.

The Handler. She looked exactly like she did in Dolores' memory. As she pulled the veil from her face, the girl could see that she still had her strange, white hair cropped short around her face, her lips painted a bright red. Dolores was certain she was wearing the same black trench coat she'd last seen The Handler in, complete with fingerless gloves covering hands that were holding a black briefcase.

"Hello, Five," she continued. "You look good, all things considered."

Dolores was not surprised when the woman failed to acknowledge her presence, though her gaze flicked to the brunette in recognition. Five spoke next, but his tone didn't match his words: "it's good to see you again."

"Feels like we met just yesterday. 'Course, you were a little bit older then." She winked as if she'd said something clever, then focused her gaze on the girl as if just noticing her for the first time. "Oh, hello, Dolores." The brunette gave her a tight smile in return and, not quite trusting herself to speak, gave her a brisk nod. "Congratulations on the age regression, by the way," the woman went on. "Very clever. Threw us all off the scent."

"Ah, well, I wish I could take credit. I just miscalculated the time dilation projections and, well, you know." He gestured to the two of them with a fake smile on his face. "Here we are."

"You did magnificently, darling," Dolores put in supportively, reaching to retake his hand. The boy's expression became surprised for a moment at her words before his eyes narrowed, catching on to what she was doing. She gave him an innocent look in return.

"You realize your efforts are futile?" The Handler said as if the brunette hadn't spoken, placing her hands demurely behind her back. "So, why don't you tell me what you really want?"

"I want you to stop to it," Five answered bluntly.

"You realize what you're asking for is next to impossible, even for me?" Her painted lips stretched into an eerie grin. "What's meant to be is meant to be. That's our raison d'être."

Five used his free arm to move his blazer to the side and he pulled out a hidden gun, raising it level to the woman's chest. "Yeah? Well, how about survival as a raison?"

If it wasn't so inappropriate in their current situation, Dolores would have admitted she swooned a little at the gesture and his words. As it was, she pressed her lips into a thin line and was grateful The Handler seemed unaffected— though she wouldn't have put it past her, as disgusting as that was— as she replied carelessly, "I'll just be replaced. I'm but a small cog in a machine." She stepped closer to him, causing the girl to stiffen. "This fantasy you've been nurturing about summoning up your family to stop the apocalypse is just that." Dolores saw Five's grip on the gun weaken as she came even closer. "A fantasy."

Dolores couldn't stand still any longer. She moved swiftly between the two, cutting the woman off. "That's close enough," she said sharply.

The Handler gave her a rather disdainful look. "And what can you do to stop me?"

The brunette's free hand fisted at her side as the long-buried urge to punch the woman in the face resurfaced. She swallowed it back as she replied, "oh, you have no idea."

"Dolly," Five hissed, tugging on the joined hands in an effort to pull her away. "Not now."

"Oh, don't worry," The Handler chuckled lightly. "I'm quite enjoying this. Tell me, Dolly, exactly what you're going to do."

Dolores opened her mouth to respond, wanting very much to speak her thoughts on the subject, but Five's insistent pulling was quite distracting. No words came readily, so she closed her mouth again and stared stonily at the white-haired woman. She gave an amused laugh and dismissed her without another thought. "Exactly what I expected. Now, I must say, Five, though we're all quite impressed with your initiative, your— stick-to-itiveness— it's really quite something, which is why we want to offer you a new position back at The Commission in management. You'll remember the position well, I think."

Five chuckled. "Sorry. What's that now?"

"Come back to work for us again." Her expression hardened. "You know it's where you belong."

"Well, it didn't work out too well last time. And what about Dol-Dolores?" He stumbled over her name, unused to using the whole of it.

"But you wouldn't be in the correction division any longer," The Handler answered, addressing the first point. "I'm talking about the home office. You'd have the best health and pension and an end to this ceaseless travel. You're a distinguished professional in—" She looked him up and down. "—schoolboy shorts. As for sweet Dolores, well, we could leave her here?"

"Never!" was exclaimed simultaneously, though Dolores' was hotly while Five's had taken on a cold edge. The Handler sighed. 

"I thought as much." She eyed the brunette. "I suppose I could work a little office magic and pull a few strings to get her old job back, but we don't really support couples working in the same branch. It can get quite messy, you know?"

The boy's expression hardened. "How badly do you want me to return?"

"Very well. Though, while we're on the subject of changes, we have the technology to reverse the ageing process. I mean, you can't be happy like this." Her gaze was focused solely on Five again, and her hand reached up to rest on top of his gun as she slowly lowered it until it was pointing at the ground.

"I am happy," he answered, glancing over at the brunette next to him.

"Oh, Five," The Handler sighed with disappointment. The hand on the gun moved towards his face. "The search for happiness is a lifelong—"

Dolores' hand shot out and gripped the woman's wrist. Her expression was hard and cold as she ground out: "touch him, and I'll break your wrist."

The Handler smiled pleasantly at the girl's threat, entirely unaffected, while Five gave another insistent tug on her arm. "Dolores, no," he told her sharply as his heart pounded loudly in his ears.

Five understood how dangerous The Handler could be and— to an extent— Dolores did, too. She wasn't someone you messed with unnecessarily and he was surprised at how reckless his wife was being. Usually (according to her, at least) that was his department. They needed The Handler to be agreeable with them and threatening her with bodily harm would not help. He couldn't say as much, of course, so he stuck to the two-word phrase in hopes it would get Dolores' attention.

The brunette hesitated. Her burning gaze turned away from the white-haired woman at the sound of her husband's voice and her brows furrowed slightly as she looked him over, checking to make sure he was alright. Reluctantly, she let go of the woman's arm. "Don't even think about it— or I'll make good on that promise."

The Handler gave her a polite— if not somewhat condescending— smile before she turned her attention back to the boy. "I'm just saying, Five. We can make that happen. We can make you yourself again."

"And what about my family?"

"What about them?"

"I want them to survive!"

The woman pursed her lips, looking around the scene. Barring the two moving Hargreeves, the rest did, admittedly, look unimpressive. "All of them?"

"Yes, all of them," he retorted.

"Well," The Handler said, returning her sunglasses to her face, "I'll see what I can do," she held out her hand, "do we have a deal?"

"Yes. Just one thing," he answered, walking to where the gun was lying on the road. He emptied the cartridge and threw both pieces to either side. As he returned to the two women, he paused and glanced back at the bullet frozen in midair. Carefully, he adjusted it so that it would hit the car instead of his brother.

He joined his wife and The Handler, grasping the brunette's hand tightly and then accepting the woman's outstretched one. The three of them disappeared in a flash of blue as the scene around them resumed its chaos.