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❛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘ. ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇʀ ᴇғғᴇᴄᴛ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚  ▎❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴛʜɪs ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇs
ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʀᴇᴜɴɪᴏɴ ɪs ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ
ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙʏ. . . ꒱


❝ I'VE GOT A CODE FOR
YOU, OSBORN! 4-20,
EVER HEARD OF IT? ❞

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Vik's Bar had surged in popularity over the years. Now, instead of being just a night spot, people were there during all times of the day. Viktor himself was very busy because of this, which was good as it kept his mind off of other things like Sissy and his purposefully-separated family. However, it was less than ideal when his on-again-off-again girlfriend, Amy, stalked in wearing a familiar frown on her face. Most of the patrons knew her by now and recognized her angry look. Jerry in particular smirked, never quite knowing what their argument was about but could tell well enough when the inevitable 'break up' was coming.

"Where is he?" she demanded furiously.

He gave her an amused look just to incense her further. "Who?"

Amy glared at him. "Don't play dumb with me, Jerry. I know he's here. Where is he?"

The older man chuckled. "Yeah, I'm just messin' with you." He raised his voice to address the brunette: "hey, Vik! Are you here or not?"

Viktor jumped up from the stool he was sitting on, which he had occupied during his break. Hurrying over to his girlfriend, he asked, "Amy, what's-what's up?"

"You know what's up." She slapped the keys to his cottage on the bar countertop. "Call me when you grow up."

The seventh Hargreeves sighed, pleadingly calling her name as she stormed off. He knew it was his fault; he'd brought up Sissy again which seemed to happen without him even trying. Amy was a rather insecure person who liked to be reassured of her partner's feelings, so talking about the woman he'd loved more than life itself had sent her spiraling. In the initial stages of their relationship, she'd tried to be patient, but when it became clear that he wasn't moving on as quickly as she would've liked him to, that's when she started accusing him of being 'immature' and 'childish.'

Jerry twisted to look at Vik, still appearing entertained. "How long will this 'break' last, do you think? Anyone wanna start placing bets?"

"Three months!" came the response from another regular, earning chuckles from the other patrons.

"No," the brunet protested, "it's not like that! If she says it's over then it really must be. . ."

"That's what you said the last three times," the older man remarked teasingly.

Before he could make any further objections (or wallow in the embarrassment of being publicly broken-up with (Amy couldn't have waited for him to come home?)), his mixologist, Nancy, called for his attention. She held up the receiver. "Phone call."

He went around to the employee's side of the bar and took the phone from her, muttering a thanks. Putting it up to his ear, he questioned, "hello?"

"'Hey. Long time.'"

It took him a moment to register the voice as surprised as he was. "Luther?"

"'How's it going?'"

"I'm. . . I'm fine," he said, lying through his teeth. A feeling of dread knotted in his stomach; it had been years since he'd heard from anyone but Alexa and occasionally Five. If someone was calling now. . . "What's wrong?"

Luther laughed awkwardly. "'Why does something have to be wrong? No, I was just calling to see if you're going to that thing."

"What thing?"

"'Diego and Lila's thing. Little Grace's birthday party."

Viktor sighed; he'd made it a point to steer clear of family events with how well the last few had gone, usually opting to send presents for his niblings through the mail. "Oh. Um. . . uh, well, you know, I-I really. . . I really want to. It's just, you know, it's our busy season. It's my bar, Luther. If I'm not here to watch over things. . ."

"'You should come. Alright? Just this once.'"

"I'll think about it," was the best answer he could offer.

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

Luther let out a disappointed breath as he heard the line disconnect. It had been years since he'd last seen Viktor and he was beginning to wonder if he'd ever get to see him again. He hung up the phone with a faint click and turned to survey his bright, clean kitchen and slightly messy living room. Sometimes he still couldn't believe how much better off he was than when he'd first landed in this timeline and it was really all thanks to Alexa. His sister, who knew how to apply for a job, had helped him prepare for the interview and even house-hunted with him so he wouldn't have to live in the run down Academy building. He owed her a lot, he knew, so it was the least he could do to show up for every holiday celebration she hosted and do his best to corral their siblings to go along with him.

"He said no?" a woman's kind voice pulled him from his thoughts and his eyes landed on his wife, Sarah. Her beauty still took his breath away, even after nearly a year and a half of being married. It had been a quiet ceremony in the courthouse with only Alexa, Five, and her son— his stepson— Bradley, in attendance.

She had bright blonde hair which usually spilled over her shoulders, but was now pulled up into a messy ponytail, the baby hairs escaping closer to her face to give her a halo-like appearance. Her brown eyes were warm and soft as she looked at him. She had a slender, athletic build and was surprisingly muscular from constantly lifting her son up and down.

The blond shook his head. "He didn't say either way. I just know Al would be really happy if he came."

Sarah walked across the room until she stood near him so she could place her hand on his arm comfortingly. "You tried your best, honey. I'm sure she'll appreciate the effort. At least Ben will be coming, right?"

He scoffed a little. "Some compensation. Our actual brother who really does love her is undecided and probably won't come, but here, have this version of the brother you saw die and who hates you instead."

She shook her head in gentle rebuke. "Maybe prison has softened him; it's known to turn worse people around. Don't forget you have to pick him up today."

Luther's eyes widened. "Oh, shoot! I totally forgot. What time is it?" he asked frantically.

Smiling fondly at his absentmindedness, she pressed his car keys and wallet into his hands, which had been the reason she'd come to find him in the first place. "You'll be right on time if you leave now."

He beamed at her, bending down to give the blonde a brief but passionate kiss. "What would I do without you?"

"Forget your keys, wallet, and your brother," she joked.

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

Diego's eyes were glazed over from boredom as he slowly trundled his police car through town. He hated patrol. It wasn't cool like he thought it would be: finding bad guys and beating the crap out of them before chucking them in jail. Instead, there were just hours of doing nothing with the periodic bursts of activity if someone sped past him. He ended up parking near a deli and decided to get lunch. Even though he had Grace's birthday party later, it would be a while before he'd eat another meal so he thought he'd make the most of his boring shift. Plus, he could sometimes get discounts if he showed up in his cop uniform.

When it was his turn to order, he stepped up to the counter. "Yeah, I'll have the pastrami on rye with fries and a soda."

The cashier was an older woman and, as she rang him up, she gave him a warm smile. "Thank you for your service, dear. We appreciate your effort at keeping the city safe."

While he strongly disliked his job most days, it was little things like this that made it worth it. His chest puffed out in pride as he stuck his thumbs casually in his belt loops. "Well, you know, I'm just doing my job. It's an honor to serve you, ma'am."

Her smile widened. After he received his receipt, he glanced down at it and grinned. Ten percent off. It wasn't long before his sandwich arrived, but unfortunately he didn't get to enjoy it right away as his radio crackled to life.

"'10-50, HARGREEVES! 10-50! Center Street! You were supposed to be on the scene thirty minutes ago! What the hell are you doing? HARGREEVES!''

Diego groaned and snatched up the radio. "I've got a code for you, Osborn! 4-20, ever heard of it? It means relax! There's shit going on out there!"

"'My job is not to relax. A 10-50 doesn't sound like 'nothing' to me! Watson had to leave her position since you weren't in yours!'"

His boss continued squawking at him, disrupting his peaceful lunch hour. Yanking the clip free from his belt, he threw it bodily to the ground. The radio splintered apart, putting an end to Osborn's yelling. The silence in the deli was deafening, causing him to look around in confusion. Everyone was staring at him, including the nice old lady. He gave her a bright smile and a thumbs-up. "Great sandwich!"

(He had yet to even take a bite.)

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

Lila wasn't surprised when she felt a headache coming on. Carting two toddlers around plus a six-year-old all day wasn't easy for a single woman. She parked the car in front of the arcade where Grace's birthday party was being held. Throwing open the door, she went to Ronnie's side first and unbuckled him. Holding him on one hip, she went over to Coco's seat and freed her of her seatbelt as well. Luckily, Grace was old enough to get out of the car by herself.

Leaving her car unattended, Lila went into the arcade with Grace trailing behind her. She made a beeline over to the receptionist. "The last name is Hargreeves. We have the arcade booked for a party today? Ouch!" The last part was directed at Coco, who had reached up and pulled at her hair.

She set Ronnie on the ground, who immediately clung to her leg and looked like he was about to cry. After tugging her hair free from her daughter's hands, she turned to her son, bending to get to his height. "Hey, hey, ducky, it's okay. Mommy's right here, alright? I just had to put you down because your sister is being an ass—" She ignored the offended look on the receptionist's face.

"Mommy!" Grace's excited voice drew her attention next. Her eldest daughter pointed to the glass doors that were the gateway to any child's heaven. "I wanna go play! Can I? Please?" She turned her gaze to the arcade employee and beamed at the woman, declaring importantly, "it's my birthday! We're here for my party!" She switched back to Lila. "Mommy, can I go play please?"

The brunette waved the girl away distractedly. "Yes, yes, go ahead." She fished a few quarters out of her pocket and shoved them into the girl's hands. "There you go."

"Miss," the receptionist finally spoke up as Grace ran off, "we don't allow children to be unattended—"

"Look," Lila snapped, cutting her off mercilessly, "I'm a single woman with three whiny kids. I love them to death, but if I don't get at least one of them to leave me the fuck alone for five minutes, I'm going to smash something— and you don't want it to be your head, do you?" She gave the other woman a sarcastic smile to ensure she understood that Lila meant the threat. "Now, get me that reservation so I can make sure my daughter has the happiest fucking day of her life."

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

Ben scowled at the security guard as the buzzer went off to let the door open. He stomped out of the prison holding a plastic grocery bag with all of his worldly possessions— much less now that the government had commandeered (read: stole) all of his property. Since the Umbrellas were his only family to speak of (and he didn't consider any of them more than people he could barely tolerate), he had to choose which one he wanted to pick him up.

Alexa was immediately crossed off his list; he couldn't stand the thought of being around her wide-eyed, hopeful expression twenty-four seven. That meant Five was also out of the question, which was unfortunate since he at least had some sense. He didn't call Diego or Lila either, since he didn't want to be stuck around their screaming kids. Viktor might've been an option had he not lived out of the country. Klaus was a definite no; he got on Ben's nerves faster than any of the others. Allison was a possibility, but she was busy with her hair salons. So, that left Luther as the least-worst of his terrible choices.

The Umbrella's Number One was clearly pleased about this as he waved happily from where he stood next to his car, beaming at him. The Asian man groaned. "Fuck me."

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

"'Baby, I'm so sorry,'" Ray apologized, his words sounding rushed. "'I meant to be home in time to take Claire to Grace's party but they pushed the meeting off for another day. I had to reschedule my flight; I've done everything I can but I'm just not going to be able to make it.'"

"Ray—" Allison began, frustrated. She took a deep breath to ease the anger that had immediately bubbled up inside of her. The sounds of conversation, blow dryers and steady music filtered in one ear as she tried to pay attention to what her husband was saying. The additional noise input plus the disruptive news sparked her irritation easily. She recalled the tips she'd learned in her therapy sessions and counted her breaths until she had calmed down again. More gently, she said, "it's okay, Ray; I know you couldn't help it. But I can't pick up Claire either; I've got Florence coming in at two and you know how particular she is about who cuts her hair."

"'Let Klaus know. I'm sure he won't mind picking her up.'" There was a pause before he added, "'I'm proud of you, you know.'"

Allison's tense emotions eased further, pleased that he had recognized her effort to not turn this into a big blowup. "Thanks, I'll do that. I love you."

"'I love you too.'" The dial tone sounded as he ended the call.

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

"Hey, hey, hey. Hold your horses, madam. Not yet." Klaus put his arm out to stop his niece from crossing the street. The car in front of them went through the intersection, followed by the car to their left. He waited patiently on the street corner until they were both out of sight.

Claire let out an impatient scoff. "Uncle Klaus. . ."

"Start ignoring the rules of the road and next, the whole world goes to anarchy. Trust me on this, Claire," he told her sternly. He grasped her hand in his gloved one and hurried across the road. "And now we go. Quick, quick, quick! Fast."

"You are such a pussy," she complained.

He dismissed her insult. "Do you have any idea how many pedestrians are killed annually in this country?" The older man jumped around the wet spot in the street, lightly pushing his niece out of the way in the other direction. "Watch the puddle. 6,977."

"—977," Claire finished with him, having heard this lecture many times before.

"That's correct. One minute you're alive, and then the next, poof, you're dead. Forever. That's not what we want, right?"

The girl stuck her hands back in the pockets of her coat as she brushed off her uncle's concerns. "I just wanna get home before climate change ends the world as we know it."

"Well, yeah." He looked up as another passers-by came from the other direction. Noticing the cigarette in the man's mouth, he hastily moved as far away as the sidewalk would let him. He maneuvered Claire to his other side so he could act as a barrier between the 'hazardous' obstacle. "Ew, ew. Secondhand smoke, three o'clock. Come over here. Stay on this side."

He coughed exaggeratedly to make his point and waved his hand in front of his face, causing the other man to look back at him weirdly. Claire sighed. "You're fine, Uncle Klaus."

"Yeah, I know. I-I'm fine. You'll be fine. We'll all be fine."

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

Five left the Keeper's meeting with a bounce in his step. After a several months of consistently attending the AA-styled meetings, he had finally made a break through. These people were a lot more suspicious than he'd initially thought, which was something he had to give them credit for despite their crackpot theories. One of the regulars, Aaron, had invited him to a 'real' meeting; he could only assume that meant that the leaders of the whole association would be present.

As he made his way back to the apartment, he took his usual route through the city. The cool winter air felt refreshing as Five walked through the familiar streets, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his army coat. His mind buzzed with a mix of satisfaction and the usual undercurrent of restlessness. He had gained the trust of the Keepers, something he wasn't sure would happen given how wary they were. That small victory should have kept him focused but his thoughts drifted elsewhere, to the self-imposed deadline that was creeping up faster than he'd thought it would.

Christmas was right around the corner; it wouldn't be long now until he was to propose to Alexa. A small part of him wondered if she would even say yes. It wasn't like he was an easy person to live with. He had more baggage than anyone could unpack, even her. Nightmares, the trauma of his past, having the hands of a killer— it all added up. But she'd stayed. She was there, morning after morning, ready with her quiet strength, never pushing too hard but never backing away either. Maybe she saw something in him that he couldn't, and that alone made him want to try.

He imagined sliding it onto Alexa's finger, the feel of her skin beneath his touch, her wide, surprised eyes. He thought of the years upon years she'd waited, never once faltering in her faith in him. She had waited long enough, he knew, though he also knew she would be content to just keep on going even if they never did get married. But, as unexpected as it was, that's what he wanted. He wanted it more than he'd ever thought he would. It seemed impossible that he, of all people, would be the kind of person who settled down. After all, he'd once told Lila that they weren't exactly cut out for domestic bliss.

But, here they were: Lila, who was married already and had three kids. And him, whose feet had taken him subconsciously to the display he'd passed nearly every walk he'd taken in the last six years.

(Sometime later when he left the shop, the new purchase was a pleasant if not noticeable weight in his coat pocket; he swore he could feel it burning as a promise to a future he had once thought he would never have.) 

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

Alexa was eating a salad at her desk on her lunch break as she reviewed the file for her most recent case, Panama. There was quite a lot of evidence that there was massive leak of offshore tax evasion and money laundering by wealthy individuals and global elites. They used Panama's law firms to hide the money from the U.S. government and get a cut on their tax returns. It was taking her longer to investigate since the numbers made her head spin— it was one of the (several) times that she regretted taking on this job. But, she had signed up for it with the intention to protect her family and it was proving to be a worthwhile investment, so it could've been worse.

There was a rap on her door— five consecutive knocks— that was her and Derek's ways of announcing their presence, since they both had that many letters in their names. The CIA job had definitely made her more suspicious and she didn't want to take any risks with surprise visitors. At least it was easier than the alert system she and Five had.

"Come in!"

Her friend appeared, looking both tense and apologetic. He tended to take on a more formal tone when he was nervous, which he did now. "Hargreeves, the Director has asked to see you."

The blonde raised an amused eyebrow at the use of her last name. "Sure thing, Gardener. Did he say what it was about?"

Derek hesitated briefly before he shook his head. "No, but he said he wouldn't keep you long."

Alexa tensed, her easy-going mood evaporating at the platinum-haired man's subtle clue. Her mind instantly went into panic mode as she thought about Five and Lila. How had he found out? Were they safe? Had they gotten hurt somehow? What was going to happen—?

"Right," she replied as she stood, now equally anxious. "I'll go see him, shall I?"

"That would be for the best, I think. I'll take you there." He walked beside her silently, occasionally sharing glances with her in a silent conversation of her aforementioned worries: I don't know how he found out. I'm sure they can protect themselves. I don't think he'd hurt either of them— not without exposing himself.

Derek nodded encouragingly at her as she went in to her boss's office after being given permission to do so, her friend occupying himself with tasks on the same floor so he could stay close by if he was needed. The Director waved her over to the chair she'd sat in a few years ago during her first visit. She took a deep breath before she sat down, trying to suppress the rising dread that had started building in her chest. Lance Ribbons, with his sharp, calculating eyes and perfectly pressed suit, leaned back in his chair as he studied her.

"Agent Hargreeves," he began smoothly, voice low but edged with menace, "I've been hearing some interesting things about your recent. . . we shall call them. . . activities."

Her heartbeat quickened but she did her best to keep her face neutral. "I assume you're referring to Panama, sir?"

Lance's lips curled into a small, humorless smile. "Panama is. . . a necessary task, but no. That's not what I'm talking about."

Her stomach flipped. She decided it was best to play dumb. "Then what, exactly, are you referring to?"

"You have a little passion project going on the side, don't you?" he wondered evenly. "I've noticed you've been digging where you shouldn't be. If I were you, I'd drop that particular investigation. Immediately."

The blonde shook her head. "Sir, I'm not sure what you're talking about. I know I've been slow on solving the Panama case, but that's only because numbers aren't exactly my forte—"

"Don't pull the coy act on me, Hargreeves," the older man warned her. "Remember, you only joined the agency a few years ago. I've got a decade's worth of experience on you; I know deceit when I see it. While I will admit that you show promise as you have a certain maturity that most of my young agents lack, it's vital that the CIA runs like a machine. I will not tolerate a faulty cog, do you understand me? If you continue down this path, I'll have no choice but to terminate your employment here. And trust me, that would be the least of your problems."

Alexa had never been particularly skilled at having a poker face— that, again, was more in her boyfriend's department— but she tried to channel his energy and put on a smile. "Firing me would be a mistake, sir. It would look incredibly suspicious, especially considering there's no concrete evidence that I work on anything besides the cases that are assigned to me. If I were suddenly terminated, people might start asking questions. The last thing you want is for this to blow up into a bigger investigation— a cover-up, perhaps?"

Lance's eyes narrowed slightly as he observed her. His demeanor remained unfazed but Alexa could see a flicker of irritation. She knew she had to walk a fine line here, not giving him any reason to believe she was openly defying him but also making it clear that he wasn't going to scare her off.

"You're confident, Hargreeves. I'll give you that. But don't overestimate how irreplaceable you are. People disappear all the time in our line of work and no one bats an eye. One more agent gone won't make waves, especially if you start poking your nose in the wrong places."

The veiled threat hung in the air, heavy and sharp. The blonde leaned back in her chair, her carefully controlled expression masking the adrenaline that was surging through her veins. She couldn't show fear, not now.

"With all due respect, Director, my only focus is the task at hand. The Panama case is complex and the web of offshore accounts is vast. If it seems like I've been distracted it's because the work requires a deep dive into tangled, messy territory." She paused, holding his gaze. "I'm good at my job. I don't cut corners. But firing me without cause would be noticed, especially given the nature of what we handle here."

For a moment, the office was silent. Lance drummed his fingers on the desk, his steely gaze never leaving hers. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke: "be careful, Hargreeves. The CIA is not a place for heroes or rogue agents. There are bigger forces at play here than you know. Stick to Panama. I won't warn you again."

--

Five waited outside the CIA building so he and Alexa could head over to Grace's birthday party together. One of his hands had permanently been stuck in his pocket since mid-afternoon, his thumb rubbing over the velvet of the little rectangular box. He still couldn't believe that this was actually happening; he'd committed and, for once, wasn't running away from something. However, thoughts of his future proposal vanished from his mind as soon as he spotted Alexa walking towards him.

His sharp eyes immediately picked up on the tension in her posture. Her usual stride was more rigid, her shoulders tight with stress. Something was wrong. The moment she got close enough, his gaze narrowed.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice low but laced with concern. He never had to ask twice; Alexa was getting better at hiding things from other people but she didn't make the effort to do so with him.

She stopped short, taking a deep breath before looking up at him. She tried to summon a reassuring smile but it faltered. "It's nothing. The Director just. . . had a talk with me."

The brunet stepped closer, his eyes scanning her face as they caught every subtle shift in her expression. "A talk?" he repeated, suspicion evident in his voice. "That doesn't sound like nothing."

Her composure cracked slightly under his intense gaze and she lowered her eyes. "He. . . somehow he found out about what we're doing with the Keepers. I thought I was being so careful, but today he threatened to fire me and. . . implied he could do worse." She crossed her arms, trying to keep her voice steady.

The surge of anger that flared in Five was instant. His hand clenched tightly in his pocket, his thumb digging into the box he'd been toying with moments earlier. He could feel the adrenaline kicking in, his instincts screaming to spatial jump (oh, if only he could. Although he'd gotten used to not having powers, there were times where he missed them intensely) into that office and make Ribbons regret ever threatening her. But he took a breath, forcing himself to stay present.

His jaw tightened as he muttered, "that bastard thinks he can intimidate you."

Alexa shook her head, trying not to let her panic overwhelm her. "I handled it. I made it clear that firing me would draw too much attention. But it still rattled me." She met his gaze again, her own eyes filled with nerves and lingering fear. "I don't want him going after you or. . . well, you know— the other person I have working on this. It's only made me more certain that I did the right thing by not telling either of you who was involved; then you can plead ignorance if you're caught."

Five's expression softened, his anger giving way to something gentler. Without saying a word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. He felt the tension in her body slowly release as she melted into his embrace, her head resting against his shoulder. "He's not going to touch me," he said quietly, his hand moving to stroke her hair. "And he sure as hell isn't going to hurt you."

For a moment, the blonde let herself relax in his arms, her racing thoughts slowing down. While he claimed to never be good at comforting people (though he certainly had improved with time), Five always knew how to cut through her distress. Still, she insisted, "I don't want you getting involved more than you already are, Fi. It's too dangerous. This is my job, my fight."

"I'm already involved," he replied, his voice steady. "Anything that threatens you is my business. We'll handle it together. Besides, I've faced worse than some overblown bureaucrat."

This time when her smile reappeared, it was a little more genuine. "You always know how to make me feel safer."

He kissed the top of her head, holding her a little tighter. "Good. Because I'm not letting anyone get between us."

As they pulled apart, Five's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer and his thumb brushed over the box in his pocket again. The timing wasn't right yet, not when the shadow of Lance's threat was hanging over her. But soon. He'd make sure she knew how much she meant to him— how deeply he was committed.

"Come on," he said softly, his hand slipping down to hers. "Let's go to Grace's party. You need a break from this mess."