𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ━ five hargreeves

10│YOU WON'T BELIEVE THIS FALSE HOPE

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ
ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴛʜɪs ғᴀʟsᴇ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ꒱


❝ WHY DOES IT
SMELL LIKE BLOOD? ❞

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Except for three notable times in his life— what he called his "early years" before the apocalypse, his time at the Commission and the first few days he'd been in '63— Dolores had always been by his side. She'd stuck with him through thick and thin with hardly a complaint. They'd weathered every storm— both literal and metaphorical— without their bond being tested. Now, Five considered his life to be divided cleanly into three parts: pre-Dolores, The Good Decades, and post-Dolores. He was currently in the final era and decided that it was the worst of them.

He'd brought this on himself, of course, but he'd do anything to ensure that she was safe, happy and most importantly, alive. Even if that meant making himself miserable in the process, he'd be willing to endure any pain rather than put her through it herself. Their separation was made slightly (and by this he meant not even a full percent) easier because they weren't spending every day together like they used to. First had been his road trip with Klaus which had been surprisingly enjoyable until the Kugelblitz came and ruined everything. Now, he was exploring the broken Commission building with Lila in search of the Operations Bunker.

"You know, Lila, I shouldn't even be here. I was. . . I was out. I was done! And yet, here I am, swept back into the chaos," Five complained as they mounted the stairs. "Why can't I escape this hellhole?" He reached up and itched the back of his neck. His thoughts dared to betray him as a mocking voice spoke snidely in his head: if Dolly were here, she'd be able to recognize the Paradox Psychosis right away. Now you're stuck with this ignorant buffoon.

"Because you love it."

His fart echoed in the empty space after Lila's response. Sarcastically, he held out his hands. "My bad."

"Face it, Five. apocalypse problems are the only things that get your heart pumping. Not even your lovely wife doing her best in bed with you would have the same result."

The boy shot her an irritated look. "I've already told you not to talk about Dolores like that." There was a pause as he itched his neck again. Lila held up her hands in an appeasing manner. "I don't know why people keep saying that. I don't actually like chaos. I don't want disorder. I. . . I want retirement."

Lila let out an amused chuckle. "Yeah, right. What? A normal life with groceries and taxes? You would die of boredom. I'm surprised your marriage has even lasted this long."

Me too, he admitted to himself. He hadn't deigned to share his change in relationship status with his companion; she'd only mock him endlessly for it and he was already giving himself enough shit about it. "Yeah, well, you're not exactly cut out for domestic bliss either."

They crossed the open space of the atrium and he opened the far door. The woman paused before she followed him. "'Course I'm bloody not. Thank God! I mean, maybe it's a tone thing? I don't know but you could really work on, like, the way you speak. It's very. . . irritating."

The pair climbed over an obstruction that had fallen into the passageway as Lila continued to explain how he could improve himself. Five tuned her out as the sign they'd been looking for came into view. "Why are you smiling, you little pisspot?"

He pointed further down the hallway. "'Cause of that."

"Well, you could've led with that."

✧✧✧