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❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ɪᴍᴘᴏssɪʙʟᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs
ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴅᴀʏ ꒱


❝ I DON'T BLITHER ❞

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"Well, shit."

Dolores huffed in annoyance as Five stood directly into her path and she tried to gently push him to the side. "Five, move," she insisted, annoyed.

He did, though not in the way she wanted to. Instead, the boy turned to her with concern evident on his face. "How are you feeling, Dolly?"

The girl's eyes narrowed. "I'd feel a lot better if you weren't standing the way. Let me talk to my brother-in-law. We have to have some sort of relationship, you know."

"That's not— never mind. I'll meet you back at my room, yeah?"

"No."

"Dolly."

Irritated with how he was being, she placed her hands on her hips and didn't flinch from his— mostly worried— look. "Five," she repeated in the same tone of voice.

"Do you need water? Is it too hot in here?" he asked, ignoring her frustration.

"If this is another crack at my earlier hormonal reaction, I'm not in the mood," she told him flatly. "Now get out of my way." (It was in times like these that she felt his powers had been unfairly distributed— why did the most stubborn person get a way of moving around objects while she didn't?)

The boy straightened in the doorway, using his (considerably lesser, now that he was younger) width to prevent her from entering the room. He spread his legs so that they were placed on either side of the door frame. For all of his genius, though, he'd forgotten one thing: people without powers were more resourceful in finding other ways around things. She dropped to the ground.

"Dol—" Five's sentence trailed off as he watched her crawl between his legs and stand up behind him to face Klaus. "You're absolutely ridiculous," he muttered, turning back around with the only hope of possibly salvaging things before they could get worse. (If they weren't on a time crunch, he might have admired her stubbornness.)

"Oh, Klaus," Dolores said softly as she took in the man's ragged appearance— though much improved by the bath— and her eyes flicked to the ground to follow the trail of bloody footprints that had led them to the room before they focused on the man again. "What happened?"

There was no response, though, for the Hargreeves was staring at her with wide eyes before his head slowly turned to look towards his bed, then back at her again. After a moment of silence, he asked quietly, "am I still high or are there really two of you?"

Dolores blinked. Two? She followed the line of sight back to where Klaus had been looking and she froze. She swore she could feel her heart stop beating for a second as she stared into the eyes of her younger self, though not one she recognized. While she'd always been on the paler, thinner side— thanks to her dislike for most physical activity paired with a faster metabolism— she (Dolores wasn't quite sure what to call herself) was positively haggard, with distant, tired eyes. It looked as if her double had already survived an apocalypse, not about to.

The silence in the room was almost deafening as the two men waited to see what the Doloreses would do. To her credit, Lola only looked mildly shaken as she stared at a much cleaner version of herself. "Who—" she started, her voice much fainter than Dolores remembered.

"Who do you think I am?" she asked sharply, her (sweaty) hands already balling subconsciously into fists. Even though, logically, Dolores knew this was herself, she did not like this imposter— she didn't even look like her from Dolores' memories of her younger years.

Lola flinched slightly at the sharp tone and her eyes flicked to the boy who was still standing in the doorway. "That's Five, right?" she asked again, her question not having been answered.

Dolores opened her mouth to answer (yes, you idiot. Of course it's Five), but the boy cleared his throat slight and stepped up to the standing brunette. "Yeah, I'm Five. How did you know?"

Dolores didn't like how the boy's eyes were trained on her younger self, slightly wider than usual as he stood stiffly next to her. He didn't need to be talking to her, the brunette thought, her previous annoyance strengthening towards anger. The logical part of her mind had always been stronger than normal still held sway over her words and actions. It talked her down from reacting and she only swallowed harshly against her dry mouth, though it felt like pins and sandpaper.

"I read your sister's book," came Lola's soft reply. Her eyes were wide and cheeks regained some color as she stared at the boy in front of her. "And Klaus told me about you. Um—" she hesitated, tearing her gaze away from the boy to look at Klaus. Unfortunately, the man was no help as he still seemed to be struggling to wrap his head around the situation. Lola turned her attention back to Five. "He said. . . well, apparently—"

"Spit it out, you—" Dolores was tired of her own mumbling; she thought she remembered being more well-spoken, but maybe she was mistaken. She barely saved herself from calling herself stupid.

"He said we're married," Lola finished quickly. Her pink cheeks reddened as she ducked her head.

"Yeah, we—" Five started, almost too eagerly for Dolores' opinion (truthfully, he'd replied normally and it only seemed faster to Dolores' frazzled mind.)

"No, you're not," the brunette told herself sharply. "He's married to me. Not to you. Besides, you're too young to be married. Get your own Five."

Lola looked confused. "But aren't we—"

"The same person?" Dolores finished, petty enough to not let herself complete her sentences. "Yes, but not from the same timeline. Speaking of timeline, what were you thinking, messing it up how you did? War? Why on earth would you not use your brain and go home right away? Don't you know the peril you put us in? It's execrable. Look at what it did to you— us— you were never like this before, it made you timorous! The timeline was just fine as it was without you messing it up! You are the apotheosis of bad decision making. Truthfully, I'm embarrassed to have you as doppelgänger. In fact, I'd surmise that you're more of an effigy than a counterpart, you-you— noisome Scarabaeus viettei."

Dolores Hargreeves had never been one to resort to physical violence when she was angry (or annoyed, or irate, or any synonym of the word)— she had always left that part of the emotion up to Five— but she did have full use of the English and other language(s) that she used liberally when she needed to.

When she was finished, the brunette was breathing just as heavily as if she'd been engaged in actual combat and her red face rivaled her counterpart's, who was staring at her dumbfounded (though there was no part of that sentence Lola didn't understand.) Once she'd taken several breaths, she continued hotly: "in fact—" she started, taking a step forward.

That was when Five leapt into action— though he knew well enough she wouldn't bring herself to physical harm— and gently grasped both of her wrists to pin them to her sides so he could turn her to the door. "That's quite enough from you," he told her firmly, and frog-marched her towards the hall. "Go to my room. I'm going to be right there."

He tentatively released her and when he had, she rounded on him. Her blue eyes snapped with anger as she opened her mouth, determined to give whoever got in her way a piece of her mind. Unfortunately for her, though, Five was not as easily cowed by a few sentences and he pointed sternly down the hall. "Go."

She gave him a rather disgusted look for his dog-like command but thankfully, the brunette listened and turned on her heel without another word.

✧✧✧

Dolores closed Five's door with a loud (and rather childish) slam! that didn't really make her feel better. She paced angrily around the small space, positively fuming as her thoughts raced through her head in barely comprehensible sentences. As tempted as she was to throw something though, she'd never been prone to fits of rage or temper tantrums as a child and that history was making itself known now as she only let her anger out through furious steps.

After an uncertain amount of time had passed, the rapid beating of her heart and whirling thoughts slowed to a more reasonable speed, allowing her a moment of respite as the situation began to dawn on her. Guilt was the next emotion she felt for the whole reason she'd gone into the room was to check on Klaus and she really hadn't done that. She'd allowed herself to get too caught up in the emotions so she forgot everything else, which really wasn't like her— unless when it came to Five, of course. She winced as she remembered how angry she'd gotten at the one-word command, though she consoled herself that she could apologize to him when he got back.

It was only a few moments later that Five returned in a flash of blue, looking just as angry as her residual feelings felt and she immediately gave him a concerned look. "What's wrong?"

"My idiot brother, that's what's wrong," he all but seethed, barely keeping his tone civil. "We could have restarted this whole thing, but no, he had to go and destroy the damn briefcase!" He rounded on her. "And your other self was of no help either—"

"Hey," Dolores warned him. "I'm on your side, remember?"

The boy paused and his shoulders slumped. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Me too," she admitted. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I should have listened—"

He gave her a wry smile. "You've always been stubborn, Dolly."

"Me?" she asked in disbelief before she sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right."

The boy's expression softened slightly. "How are you feeling?"

"Still pretty angry," she answered quietly, "but not as frazzled."

"Good," he said, "that's good. Why don't you rest?" he offered. "I have some math to do and you look like you could use it."

"So do you," the brunette pointed out.

"I'll be fine," Five told her, though he didn't miss her doubtful look. "Promise. Here," he added, stepping towards her to grab her hand and lead her over to a chair by the window. "You can rest here for a bit until we're ready to go."

"Go?"

"Rest," was the only insistent word as he gently pushed her down to sit.

Dolores wasn't certain if she could, but somehow, she woke some time later to Five mumbling about his equations as he stood on his bed. The walls were covered with numbers and diagrams in ways they hadn't been before. As she adjusted to being awake, the brunette tuned into her husband's ramblings and picked up mutterings about "Butterfly Effect" and "String Theory."

Deciding she better check on him before the boy ended the world himself, Dolores rose with a grunt and stretched before she approached the bed Five was standing on. "Move over," she said, poking at his leg.

The boy pulled his gaze from the wall. "You should be resting," he told her sternly.

"I've rested! Besides, I have to check your math."

He huffed, but shifted so that she could climb up next to him. "You're lucky I love you."

She smiled at him. "I love you too. Now, what were you blithering on about?"

Five gave her an offended look. "I don't blither."

"Sometimes," she said with a shrug before she smirked at him. "You're lucky I love you."

"You should just be glad I'm not going to push you off this bed," he told her with mock sincerity before he turned back to the wall. "And to answer your question, I'm trying to figure out who will cause the apocalypse."

"That's why you were talking about the Butterfly Effect."

"Right."

"And String Theory?"

"It's a string theoretic interpretation of the graviton. Every force is an exchange of particles," he explained. "It's a hypothetical model of time travel that—"

"The graviton is a massless string," Dolores interrupted him, suddenly reminded of when Five had first (tried) to teach her about the theory behind the equations instead of just the number patterns back in the apocalypse.

He gave her a surprised look. "Yes, it is."

"Cosmic strings are either infinite or they're in loops with no ends. The approach of two such strings parallel to each other would bend space-time so vigorously and in such a particular configuration that makes time travel possible." The boy stared at her as Dolores smiled triumphantly. "See? I do listen."

Five continued to look at her, awed. A shy smile curved on the girl's lips at his star-struck expression and she ducked her head slightly at the attention until there was a clatter of chalk. A comfortingly familiar arm wrapped around her waist to pull her closer until they stood flush together on the bed.

"Where have you been hiding that?" he breathed, his eyes trained on her pink face.

The brunette shrugged modestly. "Y'know. Here and there."

"Well, you should go here and there more often," he murmured before he pressed his lips to hers as he kissed her hungrily.

It was only when Dolores felt herself tip back that she reluctantly pulled away, pleasantly dizzy and lightheaded. "We probably shouldn't do this standing on a bed," she told him, panting slightly.

She was gratified when he didn't release her right away, instead choosing to stare at her softly in a way that made her toes actually curl as she looked back at him with equal adoration. They would have been content to stay like that for much longer than they had time for, but unfortunately they had a world to save. As much as Five loved Dolores, he wanted to be able to be in the world with her, so he shook himself and forced his gaze to turn back to his (surprisingly) unappealing equations, only to realize he had no chalk.

"Damn," he mumbled as he patted his pockets to look for an extra piece.

"What is it?" the brunette asked worriedly as she watched him search for an unknown object.

"Somebody made me drop the chalk," he teased her in order to cover up his embarrassment.

Dolores grinned and neatly hopped down from the bed to search for it on the floor. "Was it because of your hormonal attraction?" she asked as she located the stick.

The girl stood, handing the piece to the boy, who glared at her, though the expression held little heat. "Yes, in fact. You should to it more often. After all, you have a lot of catching up to do."

She huffed indignantly and crossed her arms. "I'm going to stay down here just for that remark."

"Have fun with that," was the only sarcastic response that she got.

✧✧✧

As Five worked, Dolores resumed her pacing around his small room, reluctant to rest even though she needed it— a part of her did feel guilty that she got to slack off while her husband worked feverishly, so instead she paced and thought. As much as she enjoyed distracting the boy, she needed to get her own emotions in order to be focused for the next phase of saving the world. She spent the time folding up everything she was feeling into a tiny box that she could unpack at a later date and stuffed it onto the tallest shelf, away from any easy-access reach.

"Oh," the boy finally spoke, tapping his chalk against the wall. "I think I got something, Dolores. It's tenuous but promising."

The girl returned to stand next to his chair, looking up at the four names listed within a circle. She opened her mouth to prompt him to explain further, but Luther's voice beat her in questioning: "what are you two doing?"

She turned and gave the large man an unfriendly look. "None of your business."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't asking you," he retorted. "Five? What is all this?"

"It's a probability map."

"Probability of what?" Luther asked.

"Of whose death could save the world," the boy explained shortly, glancing over his shoulder to look at his brother. "I've narrowed it down to four."

Luther pointed to the names. "Are you saying one of these four people causes the apocalypse?"

"No, I'm saying that their death might prevent it."

"I'm not following."

Dolores sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers as she closed her eyes. "It's not rocket science. Time is fickle, Luther. I'm guessing you've never heard of String Theory or the Butterfly Effect."

"The what now?"

"The slightest alteration in events can lead to massively different outcomes in the time continuum," Five said, "thus, the Butterfly Effect. So all I have to do is find the people with the greatest probability of impacting the timeline, wherever they may be, and kill them."

The boy stepped down from the bed and picked up his well-worn copy of Vanya's book before he stared up at the wall to copy the names down on one of the mostly-blank pages. Luther walked closer to the pair and squinted slightly to read off one of the names. "Milton Greene. So, who's he? A terrorist or something?"

"I believe he is a gardener."

He turned to stare at his brother. "You can't be serious. This is madness, Five. You. . ." he began to protest, only to trail off as he watched Five pull a bag out from under the bed. "Where'd you get that?"

"In Dad's room," the boy answered, unzipping it. "I think he used it to shoot a rhinoceros." He lifted the rifle from the bag. "It's similar to the model I used at work." He raised it onto his shoulder and cocked it, looking through the scope. "Nice shoulder fit and highly reliable."

"But you can't. . . this guy Milton is just an innocent man!"

"Jesus, Luther," the brunette groaned, causing the man's attention to turn to her.

"And you-you can't be okay with this, can you? He's going to kill—"

"I know what he's going to do," she said flatly.

"Aren't you going to stop him?" Luther asked imperiously.

Dolores chose not to answer, and instead gave the man a level stare as Five replied, "it's basic math. His death could potentially save the lives of billons. If I did nothing he would be dead in four days anyway. The apocalypse won't spare anyone."

"Except for your precious wife, apparently," Luther pointed out. "Besides, we don't do this kind of thing."

"We are not doing anything," Five retorted. "Dolores and I are."

Luther missed the pleading look the boy gave the brunette, wanting her to back him on this. Dolores closed her eyes for a moment before she opened them again. He was right, after all. Even if she didn't completely agree with the strategy, she refused to show a divided front to anyone, much less Luther. She nodded. "He's right. We don't have time to figure out another way."

His expression turned into one of relief, but her stern look told him that the discussion wasn't over. He sighed.

"I can't let you go and kill innocent people no matter how many lives you save," Luther argued firmly, giving the brunette an unfriendly look for not backing him— like she ever would.

"Well, good luck stopping me. Come on, Dolly." He turned and started for the door.

The girl gasped as she was suddenly wrapped in a backwards bear hug, her toes lifting several feet off the floor. She squirmed in Luther's grip as his strength acted like a vice around her body, pinning her arms immovably to her sides. She didn't give him the satisfaction of being frightened, though; she didn't scream, or cry or beg to be set free. Instead, she saved her breath as his arms tightened around her in boa-constrictor style as he spoke next: "you're not going anywhere, Five."

The boy whirled around and his eyes widened at the sight of his wife trapped in his brother's inescapable grip. Immediately, he snatched up the rifle and aimed it at his brother, a terrible intensity on his face the Dolores was glad she was not the recipient of. "Put. . . her. . . down."

"Put the gun down," he brother told him evenly. "You're not killing everyone. And don't worry— I won't kill her, she'll probably just pass out."

Five's grip on the rifle tightened. "Do you really think I wouldn't shoot you to save her?"

"I know you would. I know she's important to you, that's why I'm going to have her tell you not to go." His grip loosened slightly. "Go on, then."

She hadn't been intending to side with him then and there was even less chance of that happening now. Instead, with her limited breath and slightly spotty vision (though surprisingly less painful than the headache she'd endured earlier in the week), she gasped out: "eat. . . shit. . . ape. . . man."

The man's arms tightened around her considerably more than before. "It's either her or the gun, you decide," he said callously, no longer willing to give either party a chance to repent.

There was only a moment before Five threw down the gun and blinked away to where his brother was holding his wife. Luther immediately dropped Dolores, causing her to collapse on the ground and massage her sides which felt bruised from the strong grip. As soon as Five reappeared, the brunette sank against him, not wanting to waste energy holding her own wait as she recovered her breath.

"Dolly?" the boy's tone was worried, though she couldn't see his face. "Dol, are you okay?"

"Just peachy," she gasped out, still holding on to her sides. "Goddammit Luther."

He turned cold eyes to Luther, his concerned expression nowhere in sight. "Never touch her again, got it?" he asked, his tone a low growl. "If you even so much as think about it, I won't hesitate to put a bullet through that brain you don't use."

"I know you're still a good person, Five," Luther said as if the boy hadn't spoken. "Otherwise you wouldn't have risked everything coming back here to save us all, but you're not on your own anymore."

"I never was," the boy told him coldly. The instant he turned back to Dolores his expression softened.

She mirrored his look as she glanced up at him, pushing herself into a proper sitting position to wrap her arms around the boy. She hugged him tightly to reassure him that she was alright. He returned the gesture with equal force, burying his face into the girl's shoulder as he relaxed against her.

"We can do it," she murmured into his ear. "The hospital—"

She felt him shake his head against her. "It might be too early," he mumbled, "we can't risk it."

"Surely there's another way?" the brunette asked quietly. The boy lifted his head from her shoulder to stare helplessly at her. 

"There is one way," he said slowly, meeting her eyes in the hopes of silently communicating exactly what it entailed. "But it's just about impossible."

Dolores reached forward and gently grasped Five's hands with hers. "Fives?"

"Yeah?"

"If there's one thing I've learned about your family it's that impossible is not a word in your vocabulary."