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❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ 𝟹𝟼 ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs ᴛᴏ
ғᴀʟʟ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ᴘᴛ. 𝟸 ꒱


❝ SHUT UP & LET ME
SUFFER IN PEACE ❞

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The last thing Five Hargreeves expected from landing in the apocalypse was to fall in love. It had been non-existent on his list of priorities ever since he could make lists and was far from his thoughts even after he'd brought Dolores (she was always Dolores to him) out of the basement. His first and only focus was working out how to get home and not even a stupid (even he couldn't convince himself of that for long) girl could distract him. Somehow, though, he'd overestimated his willpower and had fallen for her anyway. While he could have just chalked it up to the increasing presence of teenage emotions and the fact that she was the only companion he had, Five was also not in the habit of lying to himself about such things.

As a mathematician and a scientist, lies did not sit well with him. He needed to work out the problem methodically from start to finish until he got to the answer using proofs and other fact-checking methods as necessary. This was how he determined his feelings for the dark-haired girl as more than just friendly. Growing up in a household such as the one run by Reginald Hargreeves never gave much importance to things such as emotions, but it wasn't like Five hadn't felt anything for his adopted siblings. By the power of deduction and educated guess, he'd figured out his feelings for Dolores.

At first, of course, he had truly been annoyed by her presence. Being a part of a world-famous crime-fighting superhero group had taught him several things and all had led to being wary around meeting new people. It hadn't helped that she couldn't talk either, so he could only figure out her motives and other intentions from her gestures and the prewritten start of her autobiography. Eventually, though, once she'd been shocked back into talking at his threat to leave, he'd grown to appreciate the fact that she wasn't scared or intimidated by him and— if he were to admit this to himself— even became short tempered due to his own attitude.

That was when Five had begun his observation of the affect Dolores had on him. Whenever they verbally sparred, his pulse picked up and the adrenaline that had only kicked in during training or missions woke and he grew to look forward to their disagreements. Then, though it was rare, there were times when they both had an understanding that more. . . sympathetic talk was needed and he made an almost visible effort to be patient with her feelings— something that he'd never done for anyone before. Finally— at least in the early days before Dolores had accepted their new living situation— when darkness fell and the girl would become anxious and worried, to took very nearly all of Five's self-control to not feed into the weakness of comforting her. As he lay awake at night listening to her fearful tears, he reminded himself that he was doing her a favor and that it was better for her to more quickly adapt if she dealt with this on her own. 

(He ignored the fact that this piece of advice was said in a way that sounded suspiciously like his father's voice.)

Then, the day that she'd offered one of her own anchors to him in an effort to help him get home had been when his feelings had changed again. With both of them now owning very little, the act of Dolores giving up her precious notebook for his own benefit had struck a chord within him. Of course, she'd done selfless acts before that had surprised him, but those were in her nature and he'd written them off as so. This had been remarkably different in that everything before had had relatively little meaning to her. He wouldn't have been more surprised if she'd given him the other book she always carried around.

Five's siblings were, on the whole, a rather selfish lot regardless of their group's actions to save the world. It was understandable, really, that children who'd grown up owning so little would be reluctant to share the things that they actually had. This could be anything from material things to food to even time— all of which they kept squirreled like an animal preparing for hibernation.

So, it was no surprise that such a seemingly inconsequential act from a girl who had the possibility of every opportunity at her fingertips would have such an affect on a boy who'd grown up with relatively nothing.

✧✧✧

The two remaining survivors of the end of the world were currently sitting on the hard-packed dirt road they'd previously been walking on. The wagon Five had been wheeling was sitting patiently next to them with the long, slightly dented handle resting in the dust near the boy's feet. The brunette girl next to him had her arms wrapped around her waist and her eyes closed as she tried to think about everything else but the burning ache in her back and abdomen. Dolores had been snappy and unusually sad the past week and Five, having lived with her long enough, had recognized the signs and knew what was coming. He'd even purposely charted their daily walk to be shorter than usual to accommodate her situation and when she'd been in too much pain to walk (though the brunette would never admit it) he'd claimed tiredness and promptly sat down in the middle of the road.

Now, Five was trying to think of ways to take the girl's mind off of what she was currently feeling. Talking often seemed to help and, though it made him rather uncomfortable to be the one doing the sharing, it appeared to draw her attention towards him and away from her.

"D—" he caught himself— he'd been about to say Dolores— and quickly changed the first word. "Do you remember any more of those questions?"

"What questions?" the girl ground out.

"The ones from that article you told me about that your dad read," he reminded her. Having a specific topic to talk about was more preferable than him just rambling, though he tended to veer towards math topics when he did.

"I don't know what damn questions you're talking about. Now shut up."

Five rolled his eyes, knowing she didn't really mean that. "Yes you do," he continued obstinately, "you were just talking about it last week. Or, well, I think it was last week—"

"It was six days ago, idiot."

The boy grinned, knowing that Dolores couldn't stand it when he botched the numbers. "So you do know what I'm talking about."

She huffed. "You're being annoying on purpose. Now shut up and let me suffer in peace."

"Don't you want my side of the answers?"

"To questions you don't believe in? No thanks, go take a walk."

She was rather amusing in this state, he couldn't help but think, though he would never wish for it to be constant despite her entertainingly short temper.

"C'mon, you're the only one who knows the questions and you know it helps when I distract you," the boy persisted.

Dolores gave a long-suffering sigh. "Fine, but only because you'll stop bothering me about it."

Sometimes he was as stubborn as she was.

"I don't care about the order anymore so I'll just say the first one I remember," there was a beat of silence before she spoke again. "If you knew in one year that you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living and why?"

"Can I get out of the apocalypse before a year is up?"

The brunette shrugged and shifted slightly as she tried to find a more comfortable position. "Who cares? Sure."

There was a long moment of silence as Five thought about the best way to word his answer. Of course, he already knew what he would change— he'd get them both out of the apocalypse and he would (potentially) confess his feelings for the girl sitting next to him. He hadn't even called her by her first name yet, though, so that answer wouldn't do. Instead, he said, "I suppose being able to stop the end of the world would be enough. I'd return to the past and figure out how to stop all this."

"You're so predictable," Dolores said, opening her eyes for a moment to allow him to see that she was rolling them at him.

"Am not."

"Are too. I could've answered that question for you."

Not if you knew the real answer, he thought. Out loud, he said: "what's the next one, then?"

"What roles do love and affection play in your life?" the brunette asked, finishing with a grunt that had nothing to do with the subject of the question. "I can answer that one, too. None."

"That's not true!" he protested before he could stop himself. The boy winced— now he'd have to explain.

Dolores twisted slightly and gave him a half-pained, half-curious look. "Do you care to explain?"

If she thought he was predictable, then she was even more so. "Can I say no?"

"Then you wouldn't be distracting me."

"Fine," he paused before he fell into silence. Dolores continued to look at him expectantly as she anticipated his answer. Five couldn't help but smirk slightly. He knew what would really shock her and then he wouldn't seem so predictable. Steeling himself even as his pulse picked up, the teen's gaze flicked away from the girl's for a second before he met her eyes again. "I love you," he said simply.

The brunette's reaction was almost comical as he her blue eyes widened impossibly and her mouth dropped open in shock. Her face turned pink— presumably from the incredulity. "You're joking, right?" she demanded, "this is some sort of twisted humor you have, some sort of prank. I— I—" she broke off, stuttering to a stop. "What the hell, Five?"

Ouch, that hurt. Then again, he'd never given her any indication that he'd felt anything other than companionship. He made a mental note to start looking into that as he gave the girl a smug look. "You should totally see your face. It's priceless!" he broke off into laughter as she reached out and repeatedly hit him on the arm.

"You idiot! Don't give me a heart attack like that! Five!" she protested as he continued to laugh— only some of his humor actually forced. The girl huffed and crossed her arms. Five eventually let his amusement die away as he grinned at her.

"Well, I did kind of mean it," he admitted, not wanting her to think he didn't like her at all. Besides, it would help in the new plan he was forming. He paused before he admitted quietly: "you are my best friend." Dolores seemed to freeze like a deer in headlights as she looked at him, trying to see if he was pulling her leg again (not that he had been before but she didn't need to know that). "I'm not joking this time," he told her, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

The girl's expression softened and she reached out to take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. "You're my best friend, too."

He tried not to let his face warm too much at her gesture or her words and distracted himself by saying, "alright, next question."

The brunette frowned as she wrapped her free arm more tightly around her stomach. Her nose slightly scrunched as she tried to remember the next question. "Tell your, uh, friend what you like most about them; be very honest and say things that you might not say to someone you've just met."

Five shifted uncomfortably. "Can I skip that one?"

Dolores smirked slightly. "Why, you don't wanna admit that you have feelings?" she teased him.

He could tell she was surprised when he answered honestly. "Exactly. It will only distract us from trying to survive."

"It wouldn't kill you to compliment me once in a while," she grumbled, finishing the sentence with an "ouch."

The boy could feel his expression soften at her pained exclamation and he squeezed her hand gently in comfort as he said, "well fine, but only because you're not feeling well."

"I feel fine!"

He rolled his eyes and ignored her protest. "Well, I like that you're not an idiot most of the time," he started, and winced slightly as she poked him in the side. "And I like that you can— barring the first few months— keep your head in difficult situations. I, well—" The quickened pulse in his throat choked his words as he spoke more honestly: "I think you're very brave," he finished. There was more, of course— there was always more, but he wasn't brave enough to tell her.

The girl gave him a slightly amused look. "I told you it wouldn't kill you to be nice even if you choked on that last part. Geez, it wasn't that hard, was it?"

You have no idea. "'Course not," he said instead, "but it only makes sense for you to answer the questions too."

"You're distracting me, not the other way around," she grunted, leaning slightly more heavily against his arm as her eyes screwed shut.

Five tucked his lower lip between his teeth as he cast a worried look over the girl next to him. Raising his free hand to her forehead, he carefully felt the sweaty skin for an increase in temperature, knowing that sometimes she could get too hot. Luckily, it seemed that she was as comfortable as she could be, though that wasn't saying much. The boy squeezed her hand again and shifted so that she could put more weight on him, uncertain otherwise of how to help her feel better. Using his hand to brush her lengthened bangs out of her eyes, he cupped the side of her face and pressed his lips into her hair.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, "you know it doesn't last forever. You're gonna be okay." Dolores pressed her face against the rough material of his jacket and made a pained sound in response that made his heart ache. Nervously, the boy moved his thumb gently across the smooth skin of her cheek in encouragement. "You're gonna be okay," he repeated softly into her hair. "It has to get worse before it gets better. I know it probably feels as if it's gone on for hours but I promise you it's only been minutes. This won't even last hours."

Five knew he'd gotten better at being the 'provider' when the brunette needed it by the lack of snappy responses and Dolores' dependence on his presence when she needed to feel better. The first few cycles had been uncomfortable for him— not because of the bodily movement but because of the new role that he'd never had to fill before. By now, though, he'd learned how to adjust his responses and attitude to what she needed, reminding himself that it was for Dolores' benefit— not for his.

The brunette lifted her head slightly and let out a shaky sigh as the most recent wave of pain diminished slightly and leaned her head exhaustedly against his shoulder. "If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? What haven't you told them yet?"

The sudden question had his brain double-timing to catch up and it took him a moment to realize what she asked him. Then, when the question did register, the boy felt his face warm slightly as he knew what his honest response would be. Although, he reminded himself a moment later, I technically did just tell her, even if she didn't take it in the way I meant it. As for the answer to what she asked, he said aloud: "I. . . don't really regret anything, I think. I don't have anything I really need to tell anyone."

The girl's head shifted against his shoulder and he glanced down to see her looking up at him. "Really?"

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded firmly. "Really."

Of course, that wasn't true at all.

Five knew that if he were to die tonight, he'd first and foremost regret (barring not being able to stop the apocalypse) not clarifying his feelings for the girl sitting next to him and leading her to believe that all he felt for her was strong friendship. He'd regret not having the courage to ask her for a kiss— like the boy in her favorite book never got— and he'd regret never being able to see her again.

There were so many details that made up who Dolores was as a person that it was almost impossible to keep track of them all. She shared openly, whether it was with her feelings or her past, which was something he admired about her. She wasn't afraid to admit when she was scared or hurt or sad and she knew how to identify all of those feelings, which was something he never really had the chance to learn how to do. She was selfless in sharing what she had whether it be her time, her belongings or even her life.

Even if she didn't believe it herself, he knew that Dolores was intelligent and caring and brave. He admired her bravery and perseverance most of all, even in the little things in their day-to-day lives. She had relatively no power over her situation— unlike him— and yet she never flinched or backed down, even when they were standing at the gates of this hell. She never yielded or got flustered in their verbal sparring or lost her head when they needed to work together to figure out how to survive.

There were little things, too. Like how her nose would scrunch up in thought as she tried to recall something or how she'd flick her hair back before returning one of his remarks. She was quicker to smile and laugh than he was and when she did, her blue eyes would turn bright as the sea when the sun shone on the waves. Even when they darkened in anger or sadness they were still striking.

Somehow over the last two years, she'd changed from someone he could hardly stand to someone he cared about. It was terrifying, really to depend on a person so much when he'd never felt that way about another anyone before. Dolores had become the rock upon which he built his foundation and he knew that he could never learn to live without her.