𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ━ five hargreeves

2│AH SHIT, HERE WE GO AGAIN

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❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴀʜ sʜɪᴛ, ʜᴇʀᴇ
ᴡᴇ ɢᴏ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ꒱


❝ WE'LL HAVE TO SETTLE THIS
THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY ❞

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Note: before we begin, I'd like to announce that for the first several chapters, I'll be using Viktor's deadname of Vanya and she/her pronouns to address him in the first scenes where he hasn't transitioned yet. Once he does so in the show, I will appropriately call him by his name and preferred pronouns. 

At this point, there was pretty much nothing that could surprise Dolores Hargreeves anymore. If you told her that— in this new timeline— the president of the United States was a Chihuahua who wore a Sombrero, spoke Mandarin and ate pasta only on Tuesdays, she would probably take this information in stride and just ask where the nearest bathroom was. So, she was hardly shocked when The Umbrella Academy learned that their escape from 1963 did not go exactly as planned.

The first clue that all was not right with the universe was the fact that Ben's portrait was over the mantlepiece instead of Five's. The second came in the form of the Hargreeves' very much alive father. His original children (poorly) hid their shock at this new development.

"What are you talking about?" Allison demanded. "This is The Umbrella Academy."

"Wrong again," the man snapped. "This is The Sparrow Academy."

Footsteps sounded above them, causing the group to turn and look up to the balcony. A formation of six figures— including a literal floating box— appeared in front of the window.

"Dad." A man suddenly appeared before them with a hostile expression on his face. "Who the hell are these assholes?"

Behind him, a young woman with dark brown hair watched them with her arms folded across her chest and an unfriendly look in her eyes. Dolores' gaze fell on her counterpart and she sighed. "Ah, shit. Here we go again."

Klaus' face lit up in an overjoyed smile. "Ben."

Luther stepped forward with disbelief written all over his expression as he stared at his once-deceased brother. "Is that really you?"

Before the ghost from their past could answer, Diego lost his temper. "And who are the weirdos on the balcony?" he shouted up to the six unidentified newcomers.

"They are the Sparrows," new-Dolores spoke up. Her voice was cool and detached in a way that original-Dolores had never used. The brunette nodded to the older man. "His children."

As she said those words, a rumbling shook the house ominously but the two groups, caught up in their current altercation, didn't notice. Seeming to put two and two together, Five shifted subtly to block his Dolores from her counterpart in fear of the oncoming effects of Paradox Psychosis. He put a hand out to keep her behind him as he glanced between the pair. "I'm sorry. What do you mean, your children? That's not possible, old man."

"Of course it is!" Reginald answered promptly. "I think I'd know, wouldn't I?"

The rest of his children— who were really adults— came down the stairs to join them on the ground floor. Original-Dolores huffed and crossed her arms petulantly at her husband's overprotective measures. She was fine! She'd just gone through this not even a week ago and she'd held up better than he had! Out of pettiness, she made to move away from him but the boy's outstretched hand quickly grasped her arm to keep her in place. Briefly, he turned to give her a stern look. "Stay behind me, Dolly."