Bloodguilty // FIVE HARGREEVES

13. The Key

Klaus - Allison - Luther

"Incredible," Allison mumbles under her breath for another time just after the man behind the door told them, "No code, no entrance, lass." Her lips form a thin line as she balls her hands into fists so hard her knuckles start to whiten. Quickly, Klaus ignores the rule, and he forces the grip on her hands to lessen by intertwining their fingers, shaking his head, telling her to stop.

She looks at him, allows him to take her hand, but she doesn't react more. She can't. This is their only way in. What now, she asks herself in her head. But she doesn't know the answer to it. She hasn't even glanced at Luther. He thought he'd get in—he thought he was better than her. Why hasn't he spoken up, then? Why hasn't he come with his great plan?

Almost defeated, Allison her eyes leave her brother, Klaus, and they fall on the door once again. It really looks like it could eat you alive. Maybe it does, since it's the entrance to the prison. Allison places the palm of her hand on the wood. The wood feels somewhat soft and yet rough at the same time.

Clicking her tongue, she smiles as she scrapes one nail of hers down to the handle. "Soft," she whispers to herself. She is soft. Hell, she's been soft for such a long time. But she can be rough, too. And that is what she'll be.

The scraping sound catches everyone's attention—both outside the Commission and behind the door. Allison can feel the confused eyes on her back. But she won't ask them for help—she won't be dependant on them. Not on Luther. Not on any men or anyone but herself. She is Allison Hargreeves, and she has survived a lot. Her adoptive father. A failed marriage. The hurt of having to be parted with her daughter.

Now, she has had enough of suffering. Now, it is time for it to end. Finally.

Allison takes a deep breath in, and the soft breeze makes her gorgeous, curled hair dance with it in the air. This is her time, and she knows that so very well.

Taking a step backwards, she dances with the breeze, too. Her curls jump up and down, and she smiles, ready for some action. Her moment. The door still looks frightening, but she doesn't notice the cobwebs anymore, nor the old paint falling off. Her eyes narrow at the center of the door, and she makes sure she's ready by swinging her hair behind her shoulder.

"Prepare yourselves," she tells her brothers, her eyes not leaving the knob.

"What?" Luther asks, and she imagines his eyes widening. A smirk comes onto her face because of it. "Allison," he whispers, careful not to alarm the agent behind the door, "what are you planning? We've failed—there's no other way in. You can't just run at the door—"

"I'm not going to do that," she barks, rolling her eyes. Her eyes still don't leave the knob. They won't—not even to answer Luther's stupid complains and questions. "Just be ready, Luther. For once, be ready to be the hero for everyone and not only our father. For once, be ready to give everything you've got inside of you for the other ones you love."

She doesn't get another complaint. Actually, he doesn't even reply.

Allison hopes he'll listen because she throws her leg up, and her foot goes right for the space on the left of the knob. With all the strength inside of her, she pushes. She remembers all the tears she has shed in her life—every single one. She remembers what she's been called by others, who think her too different. She remembers the way she'd put her chin up and act as if it was nothing. Now, she's saving all of their asses with her family. Do they deserve it? Not all humans do. Will she give them another chance? Yes. Yes, she will. Perhaps they'll change their opinion. Perhaps they'll be the key to a new, better world.