𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ━ five hargreeves

8│IT MADE ME THINK OF YOU

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❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ɪᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ
ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ꒱


❝ IN THE MOMENT WE'RE LOST
AND FOUND / I JUST WANNA
BE BY YOUR SIDE / IF THESE
WINGS COULD FLY / FOR THE
REST OF OUR LIVES ❞

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[ VOICEOVER ]

"It's happening again, isn't it?"

"No! I refuse to let us meet the same fate in this world as we did in the previous one." There was a loud smack— the sound of a hand hitting a desk out of frustration.

"It will be alright, my love. If this is what destiny has in store for us, then so be it. What right do we have to fight it?"

"We are GODS Abigail! We can create matter from nothing! Why should we bend to the whims of time like mere mortals?"

"Perhaps a we need a lesson in humility," the woman— Abigail— commented, her voice tinged with amusement. It sobered, becoming serious once more. "There are some forces stronger than us, Reggie. You know that. We can only have so many foolproof plans before one becomes flawed. You have done your best to monitor the group you call the Umbrella Academy but even with all of your painstaking circumvention, the Durango has managed to follow us here. It can never be far from its creator."

[ PICTURE ]

The blackness fades slowly into image, the focus on a large, mahogany desk, so cluttered that one could not see the wood underneath. Some of the papers' words were clearly legible while others were obscured by yet more documents. The reports that could be read included:

- A bar license with the letters V-I-K visible.

- A rent bill for an apartment in a seedy part of town that had overdue stamped in big, red letters, only for a black marker to have crossed it out with the word paid written beside it.

- A housing deed under the name [...]-PITTS for a modest three-bedroom house in the suburbs with the hefty down payment already made.

- A jar of bright, golden particles that acted as a paperweight to the aforementioned papers.

- The phone number for the local fire department scrawled in messy handwriting with a memo of 'references' next to it.

- A book decorated with a honeycomb cover that had the title 'The Book of Satoshi' with a train ticket for Seoul, South Korea sticking out between the pages like a bookmark.

Reginald Hargreeves straightened from his desk and glared angrily into the middle distance, a scowl drawing deep lines on his face. "We have already tried bringing the Marigold fragments together— it's one of the reasons why I created the Academy in the first place— to fight against the reign of evil that the Durango represents, to nearly disastrous results. I'd hoped that by dispersing them, it would prevent the Durango from forming altogether."

Abigail remained even-tempered in the face of her husband's frustration. She reached out a hand to place it comfortingly on his arm. "Dispersing them was never the answer," she countered, her voice soft but unyielding. "You should know by now that destiny isn't something you can run from. The Durango has found us, despite your best efforts. It always does."