𝐖𝐄'𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐍, five hargreeves¹

𝟐𝟑 the countdown to the end

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⊹⊱ № 𝟎𝟐.𝟐𝟑 ⊰⊹
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃

"no blinding light or tunnels to gates
of white just our hands clasped so
tight, waiting for the hint of a spark."
i'll follow you into the dark;
death cab for cutie

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            SOMETIMES, NUMBER EIGHT realizes that her life was quite similar to the fairytales she often read as a child. It was like the stories written within the pages she got lost in; the ones she often speculated on, asking herself if altering a tiny insignificant detail would make for a different happy ending.

And no— It's not just about the girl who fell down the rabbit hole or the other one who yearned to fly to Neverland.

There was also the story of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, in which a girl met a band of characters who strived to have what they lacked: the scarecrow who sought a brain, the tinman who yearned for a heart, the lion in search of courage.

She lived through the story of Rumpelstiltskin, finding a certain similarity in the way that the father sold his daughter out. The way a king locked her up demanding for the impossible. The way that the woman was desperate enough to take the deal with an imp who offers help in exchange for a price.

There was also the tale of Little Match Girl who burnt all her matches, fending for herself in the cold; or the narrative of Pinocchio, the marionette who lived a life of lies, yearning to be a real boy.

Fairytales had fragments of human experience and therefore, she realizes that it could likely be the same for others.

In particular, her closest friend reminds her of Rapunzel, the child who was taken by a sorceress, trapped in a tower, and used all her life.

Number Eight catches sight of Lila Pitts six years later during the end of her shift at headquarters. As she walks down the halls of the Commission, she hears the soft sobs of a little girl. So soft that she almost dismissed it as a figment of her imagination until she realized that it was the sound of a child's thoughts.

She follows the voice, only to discover a seven-year-old curled up at the corner of a storage room, bawling her eyes out.

"Hi," Eight greets softly before crouching down to meet the child's big brown doe eyes that were still brimming with tears.

The woman sits on the ground to converse with the child despite the wary glances Lila was sending her way. The little girl inches further away from her, closer to the wall, like a stray cat.

But Eight can immediately tell who she was, so instead, she asks, "What are you doing here?"

Lila only returns the question, sniffing and wiping her tears away as she looks back at the woman with defiant eyes, "Who are you?"

Eight debates on whether she should tell her name, though she still ends up deciding against it in fear of altering the girl's future. Instead, she smiles, "Would you believe me if I tell you that I'm your fairy godmother?"

If Five was here he'd be making fun of her words right at that moment. Hell, if this was the Lila she knew, the girl would have been laughing at her face, snickering at her childish fantasies.