▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ
ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ꒱


❝ I AM A WRECK WHEN I'M
WITHOUT YOU  [. . .] AND IF I
COULD TAKE IT ALL BACK / I
SWEAR THAT I WOULD
PULL YOU FROM THE TIDE ❞

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Her misgivings hardly faded as she watched her uncle eat his way through three peoples' worth of sushi. In fact, they were only proven true as he all but rambled about the probabilities related to the Kugelblitz. His words fell on deaf ears as her mind was preoccupied with worrying about Five and her deal with Ben. The Sparrow wasn't exactly known for being true to his word.

A sudden thump— as if a stack of books had fallen to the ground— made her jump and turn towards the lobby. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Edward asked with his mouth stuffed full of sushi. His blue eyes studied her curiously, seemingly oblivious to the noise she'd heard.

Not wanting him to become skeptical, she shook her head. "Never mind. What were you saying about how certain you were of Luther dying?"

Before he could resume his diatribe, a deep, echoing dong of a bell resonated throughout the hotel. The lighting changed to an intense yellow as the lobby took on an eerie feel. The entire building shook as if it were experiencing a five-point-oh earthquake on the Richter scale. Dolores sat bolt upright and looked around the restaurant area with wide eyes. "What was that?"

The older man chuckled as he swallowed his bite. "Now that one I heard— and felt. It seems like Reggie has let the games begin."

"Games? What games?"

"The guardian has been called," Edward explained patiently. "The Hargreeves children will have to fight it in order for the mission to be successful."

The girl's mouth dropped open as she stared at him with dismay. "This is why I wanted to help them!" She stood from her stool. "We have to go find them and warn them. That thing that cut off Diego's fingers is on the loose now and they're entirely unprepared—"

"Dolores, Dolores, Dolores," her uncle said soothingly. "The Sparrows and Umbrellas are well-equipped to fight this enemy; Reginald wouldn't have sent them if they weren't. Your presence would only be collateral damage and a distraction. Why don't you take a deep breath and sit down?"

She was silent for a moment before she burst out: "that's bullshit! Your good friend Reg doesn't care about their wellbeing, just his! Even if the probability that they'd die was one hundred percent, he'd still send them to their deaths! He's only out for himself, you'll see. No matter what kind of deal you two have going on he'll betray you sooner or later."

"We'll see about that," Edward replied calmly.

✧✧✧

Things weren't looking good for the Hargreeves teams. Five had been separated from Allison and Viktor awhile back but luckily, he'd stumbled across Sloane and Ben. While he wasn't pleased about the latter, their situation was more dire than his current love life (or lack thereof.) Sloane had attempted to take out the Samurai that was chasing them with her powers while he'd jumped in with an axe. Unfortunately, the guardian was proving to be stronger than they thought and had cornered them in the laundry room.

He was crouched behind some washing machines with Ben, who clearly thought he had better things to do than help. The Asian man only provided comments on obvious problems. "You've hit him with your axe five times. He should be dead by now."

"It's the armor," Five retorted. "It's like hitting cement."

"There's a space between the backplates," Sloane offered.

"We need to get behind him." He took a risk and looked over the barrier that separated them from the Samurai. The warrior let out a deep snarl as it swung its long blade threateningly.

The blonde woman nodded as she stood. "Let's kill this thing."

"Wait, Sloane—"

"Hey, asshole!" she shouted, disregarding his warning.

He groaned with frustration. "Oh, shit—"

Before he could blink away, he felt a hand grab hit arm in a tight grip. "Wait!"

The boy glared at the Asian man. "What? Haven't you already done enough damage?"

"Look, as much as I'd love to continue arguing with you, I promised your wife that I'd tell you what happened between us last night. I'd really like to do that before you chose to die a horrible death."

"I don't really want to know the details of your hookup, thanks."

Ben ignored his derisive tone. "No, just— listen. I kissed Dolores. I was drunk and it was a mistake; I wouldn't have looked twice at her otherwise. It wasn't her fault and-and she tried to get me to stop but like I said, I was drunk so I. . . forced myself on her."

Five's grip on the handle of his axe tightened as the Sparrow's explanation sank in. His eyes narrowed with disgust as his voice dropped dangerously. "Do you know how much self-control it's taking for me to not kill you right now?"

The other man patted him (almost nervously) on the shoulder. "Why don't you use that anger to help Sloane? I just thought you should know before you make any reckless decisions."

"Great. Thanks." He shook off Ben's hand and disappeared in a flash of blue. The next time his axe made contact with the guardian, it transferred all of the bottled up rage and grief that he was feeling in a single blow.

✧✧✧

"Fine," Dolores said tersely after she'd paced for a couple of minutes. She couldn't sit still; her skin crawled at the thought of something terrible happening to Five (or any of her family), especially when she could do something about it. If she just sat here and did nothing then she would be doing exactly what her husband had accused her of: treachery. "You don't have to do anything but I'm not just gonna sit here and let them be murdered. I'll go alone."

Edward looked entirely unbothered by her declaration. Rather than answer her heated words immediately, he calmly finished off his plate of sushi before pushed it away from him with a contented sigh. His movements were slow and languid, as if he had all the time in the world. (Which, she supposed, he did, but that wasn't helping her right now.) He cleaned his hands with the napkin that sat next to his plate and then wiped his mouth. When he finished, he finally turned to her with an impassive gaze. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

Her own eyes narrowed dangerously. "What's that supposed to mean? There's literally nothing you can do to stop me right now— unless you're gonna call your friend Reggie over here to kill me."

The blond man stood and stretched to his full height so that he could look down at her rather than be eye level with her. "I don't need him for that."

"Damn," the brunette sighed. "I really have to start learning not to test the boundaries of my mortality."

"I'm sorry." To his credit, his apology sounded entirely genuine. "But you're just too. . . unpredictable, shall we say. You are the wild card in a deck of suits." Edward let out a deep exhale as he clasped his hands in front of him. "There is something I must admit: I haven't been entirely honest with you. Even before we entered this dimension, all of my probabilities were off by a factor of one percent. While that may not seem like much to you, it is a great deal of concern for me. I have already informed Reginald of your. . . proclivity and he agrees with me that this mission is far too vital for any margin of error— especially one percent."

Dolores met his gaze steadily. "So that's why you isolated me from the rest of the group? So I wouldn't sway anyone while they were fighting the guardian?"

"Partly," he agreed. "But it's mostly for what happens after the world is reset. Reginald doesn't want any surprises after he's worked so hard to get what he wants. With you out of the equation things are much more likely to go his way."

"So. . . you're going to kill me in order to make that happen? Well, thanks for giving me the heads up," she said dryly. "Aren't you worried that I'm gonna run?"

Edward lifted his hands to gesture around the first floor of the hotel. "Where would you go? There's no escape. If you go to the upper floors you'll surely meet your death by the guardian. What do I have to lose by telling you of my intentions?"

She considered his argument for a moment before she nodded. "Fair enough." The girl paused to eye him critically. "And. . . your gift definitely doesn't work here, right? You can't tell what's gonna happen if you decide to let me live?"

"Unfortunately, no. Right now the future is a mist of white since we're in a place that exists beyond linear— or cyclical— time. Whatever happens next is as much of a guess for me as it is for you."

"Great," Dolores replied. She began to unbutton the front of her pinstriped vest without breaking her gaze from his. To distract him from her actions, she asked: "do you have an idea of how you're going to kill me?"

He eyed her thoughtfully. "You're being very calm about this."

She shrugged carelessly in response. "This isn't even the first time I've died this week. It's not a big deal."

"Hmm. . . I suppose that's true. Do you have a preference?"

"On how I'm gonna die? Uh, yeah— I'd rather that I wasn't. But since it appears that I won't get that option, anything that will be quick and clean. I think my complacency should be rewarded, don't you?"

Edward glanced over the sushi buffet that they stood next to. "Well, I've heard that the Japanese pride themselves on their knife skills. I'm sure I could find a Musashi that will fit the bill."

She followed his gaze and inclined her head. "Very well. I'll wait here while you find a suitable accomplice."

Edward disappeared behind the sushi counter. While his attention was otherwise occupied, Dolores finally let out the anxious breath that she'd been holding. Her hands were freezing against the thin white button-up shirt she was wearing— a sure sign of her nerves. Her hand was gripping the handle of the knife that Diego had given her only hours ago; she was readying herself to use it as self-defense— just like he'd instructed.

While she was never one to shrink from her fate, Dolores wasn't ready to die without knowing where she stood with Five. As much as her murder of the Lonely Lodger Inn employee had shaken her, she was— needed to be— ready to face those feelings again. Five could call her a traitor all he wanted to but she would willingly kill a member of her own family (even if he was from another timeline) to protect his (hers.)

The blonde man returned to their side of the sushi bar not long after with a blade in hand. It glinted in the yellow lighting of the dining area, sharp and deadly. The brunette swallowed at the sight of it, knowing that her timing and angle had to be exactly perfect. Her uncle remained calm as he spun the knife lightly in his grasp.

"Ready?" he asked easily.

"As I'll ever be," she replied tensely.

What happened next was a blur of silver and red: as Edward moved forward with the blade aimed for her neck, Dolores ducked swiftly under him as she pulled out Diego's knife. In a quick movement, she slid the blade into his stomach at a forty-five degree angle between his liver and ribcage.

Warm, metallic blood immediately spilled from the wound and coated her knife. It ran down her hands to stain the sleeves of her white shirt and drenched her front with red. Edward stared down at the knife that was embedded in him; in the next second, he fell to the floor.

While her stomach roiled at the smell and feel of the sticky substance against her skin, she dropped to the ground next the blond man. She turned him so that he lay on his back. His dimming blue eyes stared up at the ceiling with a distant look in them. He seemed to be able to sense her presence, though, and a faint smile curled on his lips. In a raspy voice, he breathed out: "what did I say? You're a wild card."

It was odd, really. With the Inn employee, she'd felt a tumult of emotions from grief to guilt. Now, though, as she committed her second murder— on someone that she knew far better, too— she felt. . . empty. Even as the last of the life died from Edward's eyes, she couldn't bring herself to cry or feel the same remorse she had before. Dolores wondered if dying so many times had robbed her of her normal reactions, or maybe it was the fact that the circumstances leading up to this act had made her response called for rather than an accident. Maybe it was because she was so drained from her emotional whiplash with Five that she had nothing left to give. Whatever the reason was, she remained next to her uncle's body so long that the urge to vomit eventually subsided.

It was only the sound of the Hargreeves' familiar voices that jolted her out of her stupor. Viktor's was the loudest: "oh my God, Klaus! Are you okay?"

The brunette shook herself out of her daze and rose to her feet shakily. The siblings were busily exclaiming over their newly returned brother as she stumbled back into the lobby. Her eyes locked on the dark-haired boy as he joined his family. "Why don't you try killing a guardian?"

"We just did," Viktor told him.

"So did we."

Sloane stared at him in disbelief. "Klaus, I thought you were dead."

"Yes, yes, I'm alive and amazing despite dad's attempts to bash my brains in but tearful reunions later." Klaus looked around at the group. "Wait a minute— where's Jellybean?"

He was met with confused faces as Lila asked: "who?"

"Sorry, I meant Dolores. That's-that's what I call her." He pointed a stern finger at the British woman. "Don't you dare steal my nickname—"

"I'm right here," the brunette in question spoke up, knowing how off-track they could get.

They turned to her and their eyes widened almost in unison. She clasped her bloody hands in front of herself as she smiled at them nervously. "Um. . . I know this looks really bad but. . . I can explain— oomph."

Her words were cut off as a weight all but crashed into her. She was pulled against a warm body as arms wrapped around her waist. With the recent events, her fight-or-flight mode was still active, so she struggled against the hold after she got over her surprise. Her fight only lasted a moment as Five murmured reassuringly: "Dol, Dol, it's me. Relax."

Although his previous accusations probably wouldn't help her to do so, the fact that he was holding her meant that Ben had talked to him. She closed her eyes and sank against him. "I hate you."

"Don't worry, I hate myself," he admitted quietly. Her hands grasped at the arm that held her to keep him from letting go but the action caused his eyes to widen. "Dol, your hands—" He glanced down to see the rest of her shirt. "Shit. What happened?"

Dolores' eyes opened at the note of panic that crept into his voice. Using his words against him, she said: "relax. It's not mine."

"Then who's. . .?"

"My uncle," she explained. "He. . . he tried to kill me because I was going to compromise the mission. He said I was too much of a wild card so. . . I killed him in self-defense."

Diego let out a low whistle. "Well damn. It's a good thing that I gave you that knife, huh?"

She gave him a little grin. "Yeah, I guess so."

Five glanced at his brother before he returned his attention to the girl. "I know that I have a lot to apologize for and a few asses to kick but would you hate me even more if I said that all of that needs to wait?"

The brunette met his gaze with a soft expression on her face. "No more than I already do."

"Good." He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before he reluctantly let her go— but not entirely as their hands remained clasped together.

Klaus sniffed and (with only slight exaggeration) wiped the tears from his eyes. "That was beautiful! But now, if you two lovebirds don't mind, I'm afraid we have to get back to business 'cause there's something that you guys need to know right now. Our little Jellybean isn't the only one with murder on her mind." He paused for dramatic effect. "Dad killed Luther. And he locked me out of the tunnel and he rang that stupid bell!"

At these revelations, the group turned to confront their father (in-law). Five and Dolores were in the lead and— while this definitely wasn't important— she couldn't help but feel pleased that he didn't release his grasp on her hand. "What's your plan, old man?"

"We don't have time for this!" he returned promptly. His gaze fell on the brunette. "You're still here? Pity."

She smirked at him. "The feeling is mutual, Reg."

Sloane ignored their exchange as she took furious steps forward. "You killed Luther!"

"I had no choice. You refused to come together as a team."

"All of your stupid myths and stories," Ben sneered. "There were never seven bells or Norsemen. You brought us here to die!"

"Wow, your two braincells are finally pulling their weight," Dolores taunted him. "After that brilliant idea do we have to wait seventy-five years for another one?"

As the Asian man glared at her, Five gave her hand a warning squeeze. In a low voice, he said: "while I appreciate your mockery, I don't think that now is a good time."

She shot him a reasonably apologetic glance as Reginald countered his son's argument: "that's not so. Somewhere in this hotel is the key to resetting the universe. We just need to find the sigil!"

"I don't care about your sigil!" Sloane snapped. "None of us do!"

While the siblings began to protest against Reginald's plan, the boy glanced around thoughtfully. He nudged the girl next to him. "Dol, the floor."

She gave him a confused look. "What about it?"

He nodded to the ground. "Count the tiles."

Understanding washed over the girl's expression and her eyes flicked to the farthest corner. Her gaze quickly moved along the rows until she reached the ones under their feet. Her heart picked up speed as the realization dawned on her. Once she'd gotten Five's attention, she tapped her foot on the star that was nearest to her. They shared a look before they ran up the stairs to take in the floor from above.

As the impact of their find sank in, Five raised his voice to address his siblings: "hey, we found the sigil! It's on the—"

Before he could finish, their was an ear-splitting shattering of glass from the ceiling. Everyone turned to the sound in horror as the final guardian fell towards them. Without needing a second to think, Five shoved the girl out of harm's way just as the guardian's weapon came sailing through the air. The action put him right in its path, causing the blade to sever his elbow from the rest of his arm.

Dolores let out a blood-curdling scream.

Up until now, it had always been her that had gotten irreparably hurt. She'd always been able to protect him. She'd been the one to take the most damage— just to avoid this.

As the boy— no, the man she loved (no matter what she claimed)— fell to the floor, Dolores felt herself sway at the sight of his collapse. With a sudden, horrible realization, she suddenly understood what he'd felt all those times she'd been hurt.

With the days' previous events, seeing Five in this much pain was more than she could handle. While a new wave of nausea threatened to make itself known, her body favored a different direction: with her pale, clammy skin and shaking hands, she knew that she couldn't take much more. It only took a moment for the sights and sounds around her to fade as she finally gave in to her natural reaction.

As Dolores Hargreeves fainted, her world turned to black.

And she knew nothing else.

✧✧✧

The elevator doors slid open to reveal a peaceful park. Golden light from the surrounding lamps glowed softly against the night sky. Car horns sounded faintly in the distance. Even birds sang their evening songs in the trees.

Everything was entirely, completely. . . normal.

The group stepped into the new scene cautiously, hardly able to believe what they were seeing. Five paths stretched out in front of them, each one running diagonally across the center where a monument stood. Lila laughed with disbelief. "Cool."

Five was the first to take note of the statue that greeted them: a likeness of their father's face that was sculpted in dark metal. The sign underneath the bust read:

OBSIDIAN MEMORIAL PARK

GRACIOUSLY DONATED BY
SIR REGINALD HARGREEVES
THIS 1ST DAY OF OCTOBER, 1989

The elevator doors opened once more to reveal an unexpected sight. Viktor stared at his brother with surprise. "Luther? Luther?"

"Oh, shit," the larger man breathed out. "You can see me?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed as he gave Luther a tight hug.

"I'm alive! I'm alive!"

As he set Viktor down, the brunet took in his new appearance. "That's not all, big guy."

"Huh?" He looked down at his body. "Woah! My body! Wait— I look amazing!"

"Luther's all svelte now," Klaus commented brightly.

"I gotta show Sloane!"

Five raised his arm to take in his change as well. "I got my arm back."

"This is so cool. W-wait, where's Sloane?"

"Oh, she was, uh. . . she was right behind me," Klaus said uncertainly.

"When Allison hit the bloody button," Lila realized.

Diego looked around at the group. "She's gone too." Then, he froze. "Wait— where's Lola?"

"What?" Five whirled around in a circle as if he expected Dolores to jump out and yell 'surprise!' "B-but I was just with her! On the landing! She fainted after my arm got cut off but. . ." He gave his brother a desperate look. "Was there anyone else in the elevator with you?"

Luther shook his head sympathetically. "No, sorry."

The boy looked around frantically as his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Lila took one look at his wild eyes and place her hand reassuringly on his shoulder. "I'm sure she'll turn up. She's got more lives than a bloody cat."

Tired of everyone missing the point, Ben burst out: "does anyone know where the hell we are?"

"The hotel," the British woman replied. "Or at least, where it used to be."

Lila's words seemed to have the effect she'd been intending as Five's voice was much calmer when he spoke next, though he hadn't stopped glancing at every corner of the park. "I think the old man did it. I think he reset the universe."

However, his mind was occupied by much more than their current situation. Dolores' disappearance was more than just concerning. As much as he tried not to, he thought about the warning his older self had given him: I lost my Dolores to time. You'll lose her just like I did. 

His blood chilled.

"Hey, I don't care about any resets, alright?" Luther snapped. He marched up to the teen and grabbed the front of his blazer. "I want my wife back. Where is she?"

"Your wife? What about my wife?" He took a deep breath to calm his desperate tone. "I'm glad you're alive but please take your hands off me."

His brother grabbed both sides of his jacket to heft him off the ground slightly. "Not until you give me an answer."

Five scoffed. "Okay, screw this." He tried to spatial jump but when he only managed to jolt his body, he froze. "Something's wrong."

"That's right," Luther said as he tightened his grip on the boy's jacket. "You're about to get your ass kicked."

"Yeah, kick his ass!" Diego cheered.

He glared at his brother. "No, you moron. My power. I can't blink."

"Yeah right," the second Hargreeves dismissed his words. He pulled out a knife and began to spin it, only for the blade to drop to the ground. "That's not good."

The siblings all attempted to use their powers but to no avail. Klaus held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. "Okay. . . come on. Alakazam. . . ghosties!" Nothing. He let out a disappointed groan. "This means I'm mortal again? Aw man!"

"Wait, wait, wait," Ben cut in. "How do we get them back, you idiots?" Silence met his words as none of them were able to give him a proper answer.

"I gotta. . . I gotta go find my wife," Luther decided finally.

Klaus chased after his departing brother. "No! Luther, you can't go! You were dead five minutes ago. You're fragile!" He hardly paused a moment to add: "I gotta go after him."

"No. Wa— Klaus, wait!" Diego tried to stop him but their brother didn't have a very good history of listening to anyone.

The Asian man glanced towards the elevator before he shook his head. "I'm out, bitches."

Viktor sighed. "What? Guys, come on. We should stick together and figure this out—"

"Well, what are we supposed to do?" Diego asked.

Lila glanced up at him. "Live our lives?"

The couple reached for each other's hands before they turned their backs on the remaining two siblings. Five was speechless as he watched everyone leave. They all had their own goals, their own ideas of what to do next. The only person he loved was missing and no one seemed to be the least bit concerned. How was he supposed to just. . . move on? (Surely Dolores would make an appearance any time now. . . any time. . . literally any moment—)

He glanced over at Viktor who seemed equally lost. If his brother hadn't been there, he might have given into the urge to have an emotional breakdown. Banging furiously on the elevator doors while he demanded whatever Powers That Be give him his wife back seemed like a wonderful idea. However, he was also never one to lose face in front of an audience of any kind. (Bar his own wife, of course.)

With no other direction to go, he turned away from his brother without another word and walked down the path in front of him. All the while, the words of his older self echoed in his mind. I lost my Dolores to time. You'll lose her just like I did. He'd done everything in his power to break the loop— even if he had ended up pushing her away again— and he'd reunited with her just to be separated.

His chest ached. It felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart and drew the knife down to his stomach. Dolores was gone. It wasn't like how his arrival had been in 1963; while he'd missed her terribly, he'd had no doubt that she was alive. Now, there was a gaping emptiness inside of him that only made one thing certain: if his life was expressed as a function on a four-dimensional Cartesian coordinate system, Dolores Hargreeves— his 0,0,0,0— was no longer on a space-time continuum that he could reach.

He knew this as certainly as he knew how much he loved her.

Still, he didn't cry. He'd never been a crier; not at the end of the world, not when he'd found his dead siblings, not even when his wife had died the first time. No matter how much emotional angst he was feeling, crying was never his reaction. He could yell, scream or rage but no matter how dire the situation was, he never cried. So, when Five was certain that he was far enough away from his brother that Viktor wouldn't hear him, he let out the loudest, primal scream that he could. (If anyone had heard him, they would have been concerned for his mental stability— which they should have been.)

"FUCK!" He swung his foot against a metal trashcan but instead of helping, it only made his toe throb with pain. He held his foot with one hand as he hopped stupidly up and down. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

While his tone had taken on a watery, broken quality instead of furious anger, there was still no sting of tears behind his eyes. He swallowed past the lump that built up in his throat and stumbled over to the nearby bench. As the pain in his foot subsided, the boy buried his face in his hands, his fingers pushing up the longer strands of his hair.

Five rubbed his hands against his face to rid himself of the urge to break down (because he wouldn't cry. He wouldn't. He never had before.) To take his mind off the devastation that was rolling through him, he slid his hands into his pants' pockets. He startled as his fingers brushed against cool metal. Frowning, he pulled the discovery out to look at it.

A silver chain dangled from his finger. At the very end of the loop hung a aged, dented golden ring.

The only proof that his wife had ever existed.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊

A friendly reminder:
Dolores is a mistake.

A/n: and that's a wrap! I'm sure everyone has lots of questions but most will be answered when season 4 comes out; one thing that I can confirm is that yes, Dolores is really dead this time. Remember, the final part is going to be called Running Up That Hill ( A Deal With God ) — and that bit in parentheses is important.

Whenever S4 is released, I'll publish the 'act' separation chapter right after this one and just keep going in this book; I think it'll have around 110 parts when it's finished but that's just an estimate.

Thank you to everyone who's read/commented/voted and I'll see you in a couple(?) of years— but hopefully sooner!