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❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴀʟʟ ɪɴ(ɴ) ꒱


❝ I'VE ALREADY KILLED
ONCE TODAY. WHY NOT
GO FOR ANOTHER? ❞

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Warning: (more than usual) descriptive mentions of blood/death

1982

As the couple walked towards the Lonely Lodger Inn, Dolores could practically feel the nervous jitters coming from the boy next to her. Five did a very good job of hiding them but for someone who knew him as well as she did, it was easy to tell. Her hand tightened in his as a quiet reassurance. Double checking the place and year, Five acted as if he hadn't felt anything but she knew that there were other things currently occupying his mind.

They approached the building and the girl tugged the boy out of the way of an opening car door before she steered him through the entrance to the lobby. Looking around, the pair's eyes land on a woman half-bent over a table wearing period-style clothing. Dolores nodded to her. "Think she works here?"

Without answering, the boy pulled her over to the employee. "Excuse me?"

The woman jumped and turned to face them. "Uff da! You snuck up on me there. If you're looking for the cookies, we don't put 'em out 'till three."

Five gave her a polite smile. "We can hardly wait." He cleared his throat. "Uh, do you happen to know where the Midwest Soybean Society is meeting?"

"Sure do. Muskellunge Banquet room," she responded, and pointed in the general direction. "You two looking for your moms? Are they in the convention?"

"Definitely," the brunette said confidently. "They're having a killer time."

The boy gave her an unimpressed look as she tried to lighten the mood. Seeing movement in the distance, his eyes caught the vending machine that was standing in a nearby hallway. "Hey, could I get some change?" he asked as he handed her a dollar bill.

"Oh, sure, I'll just look in my purse," she replied. She took the bill before she opened her fanny pack to dig through it. "Only a nickel and a couple of dimes. . . oh! You. . . are. . . in. . . luck, mister." She handed him the right amount of change.

Five double-checked the coins before he looked back up. "You know, some say the best luck is to die at the right time."

Dolores gave the woman a large (forced) grin as she looped an arm around the boy's shoulders. "He's certainly a favorite at funerals, don't you know? We'll be going now. Thanks for the change!" She guided him away from the woman. "Way to not be suspicious," she commented sarcastically.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I guess I'm just on edge."

"I know," the brunette acknowledged in a gentler tone. "We just have to get through this then we can get home."

He gave her a grateful look, glad that she didn't waste time on useless platitudes like 'everything will be okay' or 'relax, you'll do great.' He shook the change in his hand. "I'm running low on energy," he said by way of explanation. "I need sugar."

"It's a good thing vending machines aren't known for being healthy then, huh?"

Dolores stood back as Five inserted the coins into the slot and he punched in the numbers. The spirals holding the requested item started to unwind before they stopped. Narrowing his eyes at the machine, the boy hit the coin release button but to no avail. Putting in the code again didn't work either and he grew increasingly irritated. His fist made contact with the glass in attempt to loosen the spiral before he began shaking the machine. "Come on!"

The brunette watched with a mixture of amusement and exasperation on her face as the boy threw himself at the inanimate object, letting out his feelings on the machine. "Stupid mother Fudge Nutter!"

Rolling her eyes slightly at his temper tantrum— the part of her that still held resentment found no reason for this outburst— she turned away. Her eyes landed on a cake sitting on the nearby table. Walking over to the dessert, she slid her finger along the frosting before she put it in her mouth and enjoyed the momentary rush of happiness that came from eating sugar. Behind her, the boy let out a final, frustrated shout: "fuckin' Fudge Nutter!" He smashed his foot into the glass which shattered the front.

"Are you finished now?" Dolores asked testily as her finger ran along the icing again.

Five had the decency to look mildly embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck. He looked around to see if anyone had witnessed his outburst of emotion. The brunette spoke again: "besides, you didn't need to destroy their vending machine, there's sugar right here." She held up her finger.

"Well, now they know it doesn't work," the boy retorted as he joined her at the table. He reached over to take some icing himself.

Dolores placed her hand on his to stop him. "We don't need to ruin their cake entirely, now do we?" she suggested as a sly smile formed on her lips.

The boy's eyes landed on her finger, which she held out to him. Shaking his hand free from her grasp, his arm rose so he could wrap his fingers around her wrist to keep her hand in place. Giving her an equally-mischievous smirk in return, his mouth closed around her finger and he swept the frosting off with his tongue in a way that made her heart jump in her chest.

"Thanks for that," he told her with a cocky grin once he was finished. Their good moods slipped away quickly after that as they turned to face the door that led to the designated meeting room.

Dolores took his hand again to give her husband a supportive squeeze as his eyes drifted about the room, looking for a weapon. They landed on a fire axe that had been mounted to the wall under a sign that read 'for emergencies only.'

As he went to take it down, the brunette made one last attempt at humor: "well, I'd say the end of the world qualifies as an emergency, don't you think?"

As expected, the boy didn't answer. His gaze instead landed on the kitchen knife that sat beside the cake. Returning to her side, he picked up the blade and offered it to her hilt-first with a completely serious expression on his face. "You shouldn't need this, but just in case."

Dolores looked at the knife with uncertainty and swallowed as she accepted the modified weapon. The boy led her to the door of the ballroom before he stopped at the closed side of the entrance. "I want you to stay here," he told her sternly. "Whatever you hear, don't look, okay? Just-just make sure no one comes in." That, at least, was entirely unlikely. "I'll come get you when I'm done, alright?"

The brunette nodded. Her eyes were wide and anxious but she trusted him enough to follow his request. "Just one thing."

He gave her a questioning look but she just nudged him towards the entrance. He gave her a stern one in response— his words were non-negotiable— but he trusted that she knew what she was doing, so he stepped into the open entrance. A being with a goldfish for a head sat at the end of the table and looked up at the sight of the boy. "You!"

Dolores appeared in the doorway beside him and placed her hand on her husband's shoulder. "No, us." Then, she obeyed and returned to her previous position with her knife in hand.

Faintly, she heard the goldfish cry, "call security!" before all hell broke loose. She did her best to ignore the panicked sounds and allowed her mind to be completely focused on her task: protect Five.

The last thing that either she or Five expected was for someone— specifically a very irritated Lonely Lodger Inn employee— would come down the hall and attempt to enter the room. At the sight of the woman, Dolores tensed. Her thoughts only registered the employee as a threat, not that the older woman was someone that she was familiar with. She moved swiftly in front of the open door with her back turned to the action going on in the room behind her.

The woman's eyes focused on her and they narrowed as she recognized the girl. "You! Your little boyfriend is going to pay for that vending machine!" When she received no response, her anger grew. "Move out of the way, you little puss-ball!"

Dolores refused and, as the woman ran at her in an attempt to shove the girl aside, the hand holding the knife moved. The blade flashed as the brunette buried it in the woman's stomach at a forty-five degree angle— and straight into her liver. The woman stumbled backwards, her eyes opening wide at the instrument protruding out of her. Her hands grasped at the handle to pull out the knife (this, of course, was something one shouldn't do when impaled.) She hurled it across the hall as blood began to seep into her clothes, slowly wetting the dark fabric of her dress.

Then, after barely a minute had passed, she collapsed, unconscious. The sound of her body hitting the floor jolted Dolores out of her command-induced haze and her own body jerked violently as she realized what she'd just done. Her gaze darted to the knife laying harmlessly on the floor, the red tint to the metal giving obvious proof to her actions. Stumbling forward, she dropped on her knees beside the woman and placed her hands on the employee's stomach to add pressure to the wound. "Oh, god. Oh god-oh god—" It was all she seemed capable of saying.

She'd just killed someone.

It was then that Five made an appearance, covered in blood with a plastic bag holding a goldfish in his left hand. He turned to the right where his wife was supposed to be. "Dol—"

When he didn't see her immediately, a wave of concern washed over him and his eyes flicked around the hallway to make sense of the absence. His gaze landed on the bloodied knife and his worry immediately increased. She didn't— There was a prick of guilt that he'd even think that of her but he ignored it. He relaxed as his eyes landed on her kneeling in the middle of the floor.

The boy's brows furrowed slightly and he placed the fish on the floor— it wasn't like he was going anywhere— and made his way over to his wife. Kneeling down next to her, he quickly made sense of the situation. His concern returned tenfold at her desperate chanting and the blood that now stained her hands. Despite his own messy state, he was quick to wrap his arms around her. "Hey," he told her softly. "Hey, just breathe, Dolly, just breathe."

The brunette sank against him with her eyes squeezed shut as she let out gasping, slightly panicked sobs. "I-I-I killed— oh, god—"

Five held her quietly as Dolores attempted to gain control of her emotions, which spiraled between grief, shock, guilt and horror at what she'd done. After assessing the wound, he could tell the woman was definitely dead. The girl's instinct had— unfortunately, in this case— been excellent.

Minutes slipped by as Dolores calmed slightly. Her face pressed against the soft wool of the boy's sweater vest helping more than when she'd been staring at the body— oh, god, the body— of the woman. When her husband spoke next, she was able to look up at him with wild, panicked eyes. "Hey," he said again as he met her gaze. "You did what you had to do, it's not your fault, okay?"

"I killed someone," she choked out. "I didn't have to— I just. . . I just reacted— look—" she held up her now-stained hands.

He gave her sympathetic smile and raised his own to clasp hers. "Look at mine, Dolly."

She looked and saw the same red that marked her hands on his; the color was an exact match. Dolores had always known what Five did for The Commission and hated that he'd had to do it but it had never made her love him any less. Still, her mind couldn't correlate the two; Five had had no choice. This woman had been an innocent victim, a death that hadn't needed to happen.

"That's different," she managed to get out before she floundered. "You-you're— I'm—"

"It's not," he countered. "We're both on the same mission here. You did your part, I did mine." He held her gaze as repeated sternly, "it's not your fault."

The boy released her hands and used his to cup her face instead and, before she could blame herself further, he kissed her. Dolores tried to remain stiff so as to not give in— she didn't deserve it, after all— but like before, instinct took over and she responded with equal passion.

They were so invested with each other that the pair didn't notice the doors behind them open to allow two girls to step into the hallway. At the sight of the body on the floor and messy teens all but making out, they turned quickly turned away and went back the direction they'd come.

✧✧✧

Five, with a subdued but mostly put-together Dolores, waited in the back alley behind Commerce and Knox. The brunette's hand remained firmly in his as the girl leaned against the boy's arm. Her head was resting with slight awkwardness on his shoulder as she attempted to keep herself together. The boy spoke, breaking their silence: "I never meant for you to get involved," he said quietly. "It went too far today and I'm not dragging you in this further. You. . ." He swallowed as he forced the words out: "you deserve better than me."

Dolores' head rose quickly and she turned, opening her mouth to immediately rebuke him. Before she could say anything, the familiar click-clack of heels reached their ears. The Handler stopped a few feet away from the pair. "Well?"

Five held out the plastic bag containing the fish, causing her to gasp happily. "AJ!" She snatched him away from the boy as she laughed madly. She held the bag up to her face and cooed mockingly at it. "You know, you're really starting to fill out those tight little shorts of yours." The girl glared at her but lacked the energy for a retort, allowing her to continue speaking: "why so quiet? I thought you'd be buzzing after this morning's slaughter."

"All this killing. . ." the boy trailed off, looking into the distance. "I'm done with it."

"What?" The Handler chuckled. She pulled out a handkerchief and licked the end. "Am I supposed to take that seriously?"

Just as she was about to use it on the boy, Dolores' hand shot out and gripped the woman's wrist tightly. Her eyes narrowed as she suddenly straightened. Her voice was a low growl as she said: "I've already killed once today. Why not go for another?"

The woman gave an amused laugh. "And to think that I thought you were a docile little lamb! Well, I suppose the saying goes 'wolf in sheep's clothing' for a reason."

"Listen," Five interrupted her. He grasped the girl's hand firmly to keep her from acting on her intentions. "What we did today, we did it for our family. We did it to save the world."

"Please, spare me your little assassin-and-his-sidekick with hearts of gold routine, will you?" The Handler picked up the brief case she'd placed on the pavement and handed it to the boy. "Here. Per our agreement, this will get you and your siblings back to 2019. You have ninety minutes."

Double-cross, Dolores thought, knowing her husband wouldn't have agreed to those terms. Five stepped up to the woman. "You said nothing about a time limit!"

She spared him a glance before she looked at her watch. "Actually, you have eighty-nine minutes and thirty seconds. Better hurry." She turned away.

"This is impossible, okay? My siblings are scattered across the city."

Five made to follow the woman but Dolores grasped his hand to stop the boy in his tracks. He turned to shoot her an exasperated look but she gave him a firm one in return. "Fives, what have I said about your siblings?" When he looked clueless, she reminded him, "if there's one thing I've learned about your family, it's that impossible is not in your vocabulary."

✧✧✧

Five and Dolores entered Elliot's moments after The Handler's departure to find the floor of the TV shop covered in the same red blood— this time spelling out the words öga for öga. The brunette froze at the sight and her eyes widened after the already emotional few hours. The boy paused when he realized his wife had stopped before he saw the words for himself. "Oh no."

He quickly pulled her along up the stairs to where an obvious body was sitting in the dentist chair, covered with a sheet. Dolores looked away, swallowing down the nausea that she'd barely managed to push down in the inn. Five put down the briefcase and walked over to the sheet, making sure to angle his body so it blocked the girl's view of whoever it was. He pulled away the covering to reveal Elliot's frozen, terrified expression. His eyes were clearly lifeless and his mouth and nose were covered in dried blood. He sighed. "Damn."

Covering the face, he returned to his wife and picked up the time-travelling device. As he began to look for a good hiding place for it, they heard Luther's voice from the other room. 

"Uh, hello. Olga?" Dolores slowly walked over to the kitchen and watched the two men as Luther faltered. "Excuse me, ma'am,. Um, I was just wondering— what? My name? Is, uh, Luther Hargreeves and—"

Diego yanked the phone out of his brother's hand and growled into the speaker: "you killed one of ours, Olga. Now we're coming after you. You will be dead by nightfall."

"Hey, it's öga for öga, idiots," Five called as he rejoined the girl in the doorway. "Swedish for 'an eye for an eye.' The Swedes killed Elliot."

The dark-haired man smiled awkwardly as he attempted to remedy the call. "Sorry, wrong number. Have a lovely day." He hung up.

The brothers exchanged a look. "We would've gotten there," Luther reassured him.

"Eventually," Diego agreed.

"Uh, you guys have some blood on you." The first man pointed out as the teens walked by the pair.

"A lot of blood, actually," Diego added. Dolores shut the bathroom door in their faces without answering.

✧✧✧

The boy led the girl to the bathroom sink and turned on the tap while he held his hand under the water to test the temperature. Once it was warm enough, he gently pulled her hands under the faucet and scrubbed the drying blood from her hands. Luckily, it hadn't been more than that.

Dolores was silent as she stared at herself in the mirror. A part of her was unable to comprehend that she'd killed someone. She still looked the same, she didn't look like a murderer— She had half-expected her appearance to morph and match the monstrosity of her crime.

As he dried her hands, Five finally spoke in a quiet tone. "Dolly." She met his eyes, her own still holding that panicked, cornered look to them. "I need you to focus, okay?" He felt guilty for asking so much from her. "Only for a little while, until we get home. We can talk about it then, alright?"

For a moment, the brunette wondered if she could do it. After all, one could only bottle so many emotions before they spilled over. She closed her eyes and imagined the box that held her memories and emotions. She added one more to the pile before she made sure to close the lid tightly in her mind. Then, instead of putting it on the shelf as she had before, she imagined burying it six feet under, safe from the possibility of the box tipping over.

Opening her eyes, she gave a little nod. Whether it was to reassure him or herself, neither could tell. Then, she returned to her usual demeanor after she'd locked the memories away. Having taken off his vest already, it was easy for her to grasp his tie to tug him closer to the sink. "Here, let me wash your hair. It's getting crusty."

The boy gave her a half-guilty, half-admiring look before he complied. He took off his tie and lowered his head until it was underneath the water. Using her hands, Dolores carefully threaded her fingers through the dark strands as she watched the water turned pink. "It would be easier if we split up."

Five's head jerked and he winced as it made contact with the faucet. "What?"

Dolores pushed him back under the water with her hands that were sudsy from the soap. "Not us. I meant if we went to find everyone separately. You know, send Luther and Diego instead of doing all the work ourselves."

"They'll probably screw it up somehow," he remarked as she nudged him out of the stream, indicating she was finished. The boy took the nearby towel and used it to dry his hair, rubbing it over the usually-neat strands messily.

He lowered the cloth from his head and he turned to wet it under the spout. Dolores wasted no time in wresting the towel from him to clean the boy's face for him. Her scrubbing pressure was even and gentle as she replied, "we'd have a higher chance of making the deadline, even counting their screw-ups," she finished, using one hand to put air quotes around the last two words.

"I suppose you're right," he said reluctantly as the brunette moved to the collar of his shirt.

Dolores gave an exaggerated gasp. "You're admitting I'm right? The world really must be ending!"

Five huffed. "That's not funny."

Their eyes met for a moment, allowing her to see the fondness in his expression. Her heart melted a little at the look and she was sure she had a similar one on her face. Dolores would've liked the moment to last a bit longer but they could both feel the tick-tock of the clock counting down their remaining minutes.

✧✧✧

After cleaning themselves up, the pair finally exited the bathroom to see that Five's brothers still waiting for them. Without preamble, the boy began to speak: "so, we found a way home." He stood still patiently as Dolores fixed his tie.

"What? How?"

"All the details are irrelevant but I made a deal to get back to our timeline."

"What about doomsday?" Diego asked.

"Won't happen," he answered briskly as he pulled on his sweater vest. (His blazer still remained in the basement of the café.)

"And the 2019 apocalypse?" the man added.

"Everything will be back to normal," Dolores confirmed as she fixed the collar on her blue floral shirt.

"Alright? Now, no more questions," Five instructed them, moving into the kitchen. "We gotta go. We have to find the others."

"Yeah," Luther agreed.

"Luther, you get Allison," the boy said. "Diego, Klaus. Dolly and I will get Vanya. Now, we meet back in the arrival alley in seventy-seven minutes."

Dolores walked over to Elliot's desk and gathered the three timepieces before she gave one to each of the men. "Here. These watches have been synchronized."

"Okay, let's do this," Luther nodded, surprisingly compliant.

"Whoa, whoa, woah, hold on," Diego protested. "The two of you show up drenched in blood and expect us to believe everything's gonna go back to normal if we go home now?"

"Elliot just got killed because of us," Five exclaimed heatedly.

"What about dad? What about JFK?"

"Forget about JFK," the brunette retorted in a sharp tone. "We have a chance to go home and make things right. We're taking it."

The man was silent for a moment as he came up with another excuse. "I have to say goodbye to Lila."

Five's expression became exasperated. "Lila doesn't give a shit about you, Diego!" he shouted. He threw his arms wide before he lowered them. "She never did. She's one of them— she's a member of a The Commission."

"No way," he denied. "Not possible."

"She was just using you to get to me," the boy explained. "You're the Oswald of this story, my friend." He turned and gently guided the brunette towards the stairwell. "The goddamned patsy."

"You don't know what you're talking—" Diego attempted to shout, only to be cut off as Five blinked in front of him with a finger pointed in his face.

"If you don't do this, I'll kill you myself. Got it?"