illicit | five hargreeves - EDITING

three

chapter three: out

Throughout the month of October and the beginning of November, Number Five had worked almost every day as an assassin for the Commission. At first, it was just a tad bit exciting, the traveling around to different countries and different years; Five never got to travel much before his descent into the apocalypse. He wasn't that fond of the whole killing thing, but he just had to remind himself that it was what he would have to do in order to get back to his family and to stop the world from ending.

He had worked endlessly for a month and a half, and The Handler finally agreed that he needed a break, because if he didn't he would end up burning himself out, and that was the last thing that anyone at the Commission needed, because even after a measly month, he was already one of the most valued assassins at the company, and had gained mad respect from his fellow workers.

Five didn't care much about his coworkers, he didn't like the way they hyped him up. He never felt bothered to try and make conversation with anyone of them, or even think about them whatsoever.

Well...except for the one that seemed to be constantly on his mind and invading his thoughts.

Number Five had never felt the way about a person the same way he felt about Anthony. It scared him, he had only ever spoken to the man twice, three times if you could count the time he had bumped into him in the hallway at work.

"Watch where you're going, dipshit" is what Anthony had said to him, but he said it with a smile on his face, so Five was convinced that he had said it endearingly.

That was the last interaction that he had had with Anthony, and that had been well over a month ago by that point. Was it weird to miss a person you barely know? He wasn't sure, but he also didn't really care. All he knew is that he wanted to see Anthony again, he wanted to talk to him, and just look at his face for a while.

Number Five now sat on the couch in his apartment that the Commission had provided him with, his favorite Stephen King book in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other.

Five had never liked consuming any sort of visual media; television shows, movies, social networks. They just weren't really his thing, he always rathered reading novels and short stories. He supposed that it was something he had grown attached to during his stay in the apocalypse, because all he had there was the untouched books from the library, and they were his one escape during the darkest days.

A new and interesting thing that came with his job was that he also now had his first cellphone, which he assumed was a Commission thing, since they were definitely not apart of the timeline he had originally been apart of. Five was no good at using it though, and had only ever answered calls, not even ever sending a single text message. He thought that the whole thing was useless, and that his coworkers were too addicted and obsessed with their technology.

At approximately 10:32pm of that same night, his phone made a ding! noise that he had never heard before. Number Five jumped slightly at the sound, staring at the device for a few seconds before he hesitantly picked it up and read the screen.

Unknown Number
Hey. Can I come over to your place?

Five
No.
Who is this?

Unknown Number
Anthony

Five
What's wrong?
Are you okay?

Anthony
No

Five
Do you need me to come get you