𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐂𝐅𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 ━ five hargreeves²

3│BLAST FROM THE PAST

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❛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴛʏ ᴍᴄғʟʏ ᴇғғᴇᴄᴛ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ʙʟᴀsᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ ꒱　


❝ YOU EVER HEARD
OF, UH, AREA 51? ❞

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"What do you want?" was the demanded question as a man with dirty blond hair opened the door, a wary expression on his face.

"Hi," Five said, taking advantage of the opportunity. "I'm selling encyclopedias for my youth group. I was curious if—"

The door was slammed abruptly in his face. That was hardly a deterrent, though, and he quickly made the jump into the man's space, startling him. He let out a shriek and scrambled for the nearest drawer, most likely to draw out a weapon of some sort. He pulled out a butter knife and pointed it at the boy. "How'd you do that?"

Unbothered, Five answered, "I don't really have time to explain."

"You from the Pentagon? Huh?" the man demanded, not convinced.

"Definitely not."

"CIA? FBI? KGB?" he fired off.

His questions were ignored as the boy asked, "is that fresh?" in reference to the pot of coffee on the man's stove. He didn't wait for a reply as he blinked over to it, causing the man to shriek in fear again. His hold on the butter knife had only grown tighter. Five took a sip of the drink and turned back to the startled man. "Is this Colombian?"

"It's my own blend."

There was a moment of silence as Five took in the surrounding space, noting the collection of alien-related articles pinned up on the walls. After a moment, he asked, "you ever heard of, uh, Area 51? Roswell?"

At this, the man's arm holding the small blade lowered and he stared at the boy in amazement. "Hot damn! You're one of them?"

That caught Five's attention. "One of who, exactly?"

The man's arms gestured wildly as he explained, "one of the Hargreeves. Apparently there's a whole bunch of you who escaped from the government and you're all trying to find each other—"

The boy froze as sudden, unexpected hope rose in his chest although his expression didn't change as he demanded, "who told you this?"

"Some— some girl. Well, is she a girl if she's a robot? Anyway, she stops by from time to time looking for her family—"

It took all of Five's self-restraint not to pin the man to the wall and demand answers. Instead, he cut him off again, "what girl? What does she look like? When does she come by?"

The man started stammering incoherently at his barrage of questions until he finally found purchase on his words. "I— I don't know her name. I just call her Miss Hargreeves. She's, um, she's blonde—"

"—with blue eyes, about fifteen?" Five finished. The hand holding the handle of the mug was clenched so tightly that a crowbar would've been needed to pry his fingers off.

"Uh, yeah," he answered as the suspicious look returned. "How do you know her?"

For the first time, what could almost be described as an awkward look crossed the boy's face. "I'm, uh, well, we go way back," he decided. "I'm looking for her too. You said she comes by?"

"Yes, yes— hold on—" he muttered to himself as he moved towards a wall filled with yet more pin-ups, this time of fuzzy pictures. Below them, he rifled through papers on his desk. "I've witnessed four similar energy surges in that alleyway out back since she arrived. It's been the same thing every time. A bright blue light and then something appears." He turned and presented a well-worn notebook as he continued: "she asked me to keep track of them, you see. Unfortunately I've never been able to speak to anyone but her."