𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ━ five hargreeves

12│A STRONG AND UNITED FRONT

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


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

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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."