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❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚ ▎❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ❜ ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴀ sǫᴜᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴇɢ
ɪɴ ᴀ ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʜᴏʟᴇ ꒱
❝ MANY OF THE SIBLINGS LACK
THE BRAINPOWER TO GET
OVER THEMSELVES ❞
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January 5th, 1962 3:30p.m.
Dolores Hargreeves was stuck.
She had been for some time now and had puzzled over her equations as the months slipped away, each day bringing her closer to the end of the world. Today, however, was different. She had finally mustered up enough courage and made the decision to face her father-in-law.
Standing in front of the mirror in her basement bedroom, the brunette fixed her floppy front bangs to make her appearance neater as she knew that she'd have one shot to get what she needed. Her hair was still boy-short and rather reminiscent of her husband's haircut (though the similarities went unnoticed by her.) Once the strands were in place to her liking, she picked up Five's jacket from the bed and pulled it on. The navy fabric was more threadbare than new from all the times she'd worn it but the article of clothing acted like a shield for her— that if she wore it, she could better emulate him, and she would need to in order to face his father.
Dolores scooped up her worn and well-thumbed notebooks before she waded through the inch-thick layer of folded paper that was scattered haphazardly on the floor of her room. So far, she had made nine hundred sixty-three cranes but she wasn't going to leave the fate of the world up to a wish; that was just her backup plan.
The brunette made her way up to the first floor of the café and bid goodbye to Mary for the afternoon before she headed out to the bus stop. Once there, she waited anxiously for the bus to arrive. As she bounced nervously on the balls of her feet, she took notice of the other waiting passengers: an elderly man with his hand resting on a cane and a young woman with a small child. They paid her no mind for the next ten minutes until the vehicle finally arrived.
After paying the fare, Dolores occupied the third-row seat, one of the few that was not already being used. As the bus drew closer to her destination, she practiced what she was going to say in her head. There was no room for error so everything had to be absolutely perfect on the first try.
From what Five had told her, Reginald Hargreeves was a shitty, selfish person who was only interested in doing things for his own benefit so she had to spin it like that or he wouldn't help her at all. He was domineering and cold with little love for anything except for self-improvement and most likely wouldn't give her the time of day unless she forced him to.
The girl's fingers tightened around her notebooks as the bus made the second-to-last stop and pulled away from the station once the passengers had settled into their seats. As they drew closer to her destination, her nerves mounted as she tapped her foot worriedly. She just knew that she'd somehow screw this up.
Not long after, they arrived and she took a deep breath to steel herself as she stepped off the bus. She'd stood in front of the Academy gates before in the future (or her past) and these looked much the same: tall and imposing, meant to keep others out and its occupants in.
Dolores closed her eyes and— for once in her life— prayed to any god that would listen for this to work, otherwise she would have to resort to plan B and she really, really, didn't want to.
She refused to hesitate any longer. If she did, she would change her mind— and she pushed open the entrance door. She walked up the front path to face the symmetrical doors with the familiar umbrella logo etched into the glass. She rang the bell pull and bounced on her feet again as she waited for someone to answer (she highly doubted it would be Reginald himself.)
A young, dark-haired man opened the door a few moments later and gave her a bemused look. "Yes, miss? How can I help you?"
"I'm here to see Reginald Hargreeves." Dolores put as much authority in her voice as possible.
"Did you have an appointment with him?" (Was that amusement in his tone?)
"Well, no—"
"I'm sorry, I'm afraid he's unavailable right now—" the man said in response. He was already closing the door in her face.
Dolores put her hand out to stop him and her foot in the door jam. "Look, I know that he's here, okay? If I don't see him right now, I will come back and ring the bell every day until I do and you really wouldn't want that hassle, would you?"
Instead of waiting for him to answer, the brunette forcefully pushed past the employee and took purposeful steps into the dimly lit house. She had a vague idea of where the man's office was so she routed herself there. The man dashed after her. "Wait, miss. Please, he mustn't be disturbed—"
She ignored his pleas and continued to make her way to her destination as he tried to change her mind. They stopped outside a formidable oak door that (she hoped) was the man's office. The brunette turned to her unfortunate companion. "I'm going to see him no matter what, so you either announce my presence or I will barge right in."
The poor employee's expression was absolutely aghast as he stared at her. He gulped visibly. "One moment, miss." He turned and knocked on the door before he opened it tentatively. "Sir Reginald Hargreeves?" She didn't hear a reply but he continued anyway: "you have a visitor. A, uh—" He turned to her. "I never got your name, miss."
Dolores shoved her way past him as she grew increasingly annoyed at how long everything was taking. She stepped into the office and blatantly disregarded the don't enter rule. Placing her hands on her hips, she addressed the man who had yet to look up from his work: "I hope this doesn't mess up the timeline too much but my name is Dolores Hargreeves and I am your daughter-in-law."
Finally, he put his pen down and met her eyes. Forcing herself not to shiver at their hostility, she continued swiftly on: "it is my understanding that you are a man of self-preservation and one interested in personal benefit. I know that your time is important so I am asking only for twenty minutes to explain a potential profit opportunity which you can take or leave."
Mentally, she apologized to her husband and siblings-in-law for turning them into objects when that wasn't how she thought of them at all. For this, though, she could not stick to her own views but adapt to another in order for her gift of words to work.
✧✧✧
"Let me make sure that I am understanding this correctly," Reginald spoke for the first time five minutes after she finished her story, making it as concise as possible. "In the future, I adopt seven super-powered children and train them into a crime-fighting force, only to fail as they abandon each other to their own pursuits, one of which causes the end of the world. One of them— another failure— tries to save his family only to disperse them across time?"
The employee who had followed the girl to the room had left momentarily after her declaration to leave the pair alone. The brunette had taken the seat opposite the gray-haired man and begun her story, finishing with her explanation of "being stuck" on her equations and omitting the paper cranes.
"That would be correct, yes," Dolores agreed. "The Academy's failure is not solely one person's blame, though. Many of the siblings lack the brainpower to get over themselves."
"And you, a reasonably put-together person, decides to marry one of them?"
"The smartest one," she clarified, "though that isn't saying much. He is a certified genius, at least in my book and I'm not easily blinded by my emotions."
"I see," he answered with seeming thoughtfulness. "And you are saying that if I were to help you find this family of yours, I could use their powers to my benefit?"
"You are correct again," the brunette said. "They are mostly easy to manipulate and will probably do anything for your approval, even if they won't admit that to themselves. I'm surprised they haven't come to you to get help yet, actually."
"They still might," he pointed out as he picked up a pen. "What were their names again?"
She listed them, including their numbers. "As I've mentioned, I've been working on my own equations to pinpoint exactly where they landed in time. Unfortunately, I've hit a brick wall and can't seem to get around it. Because these answers might be instrumental in finding them, I was hoping you'd check my work."
He gave her a distasteful look but held out his hand. "Let me see them."
Dolores waited patiently as Reginald scanned her notes and her hands fisted in her lap to hide her crossed fingers. The Hargreeves' father was a man of means and resources— none of which she had— and would make getting the Academy back together much more efficient than if she worked alone.
Not long after he'd begun reading, he looked up. "Why are you calculating their weight as a group?"
"Excuse me?"
"Here," he said. He slid the book across the desk and tapped a number. "This is far too large to be a single person's weight. You said they all landed separately, correct?"
"Oh," the brunette exclaimed as her eyes grew wide. "Why on earth didn't I think of that?"
"It is a common mistake to make," Reginald replied, with his tone implying that she was an imbecile for making it. He watched as she made the first few corrections to her numbers before he continued: "once you fix your math, send me the dates. I will begin looking to see if any of your family members have already arrived and will contact you once I find them. Do you have a phone number?"
"Yes," Dolores answered. She wrote down the digits underneath the Hargreeves' names. Then she stood and reached out a hand to thank him. When he stared coldly at it she dropped it back down to her side.
"When all of your errant family is found, I expect to meet them in order to put them to use as you say I can, is that understood?"
The brunette gave him a short nod. "Yes, sir. I am sure they will be wanting to see you again as well, so it should be rather easy to gather them. Thank you, Sir Hargreeves."
"I am not doing this for your benefit, girl."
✧✧✧
February 12th, 1962 6:30p.m.
Allison was the first person within reachable distance that Reginald Hargreeves found. While Klaus had been the easiest (and boy did Reginald have a lot of negative things to say about him) he also didn't have a permanent location according to the newspapers.
After closing her shift for the day, Dolores changed into regular clothes and fixed her hair before she took her second bus trip to her sister-in-law's residence. As she walked up to the front entrance, she tried to ignore the curious stares from the kids next door; a person of her skin color was rarely seen in this area. The difference in culture from the 1960s to the 2010s was a stark contrast and never failed to surprise her; it made her realize how much had changed over time.
She knocked on the door and it opened soon after and she did her best not to react when a man that wasn't Luther opened the door. He gave her an odd look. "Hello, can I help you?"
"Yes," Dolores said. "My name is Dolores Hargreeves. Allison is my— uh— sister. I was hoping I could see her." After a second she added, "adopted. We're adopted siblings."
The man's eyes widened slightly. "She mentioned that she had relatives from up north but. . . I didn't think she meant people— well, like—"
"Like me?" the brunette offered. "It's alright, I know it's weird. Is she home?"
"Yes, yes," he replied. "I'm Ray, Ray Chestnut."
"It's nice to meet you," she responded politely before she followed him into the nicely decorated home. She'd been worried about Allison living in the sixties but Dolores was glad she seemed to be alright.
"Just a moment," Ray said. "She's upstairs, she just got home. I'll let her know you're here."
"Thank you," Dolores answered.
Allison came down soon after wearing a sunny yellow dress. Her expression was completely surprised as she laid eyes on the brunette. "Dolores, wow. . . I-I really wasn't expecting to see you."
The brunette offered her a half-smile. "I had hoped to see you again but I wasn't sure if I would, either."
"How did you find me?" Allison asked curiously.
"I have my resources," Dolores replied quickly. "You've changed your hair," she added, and gestured to her own. "You're copying my bangs. My old ones, anyway."
"Yeah," the woman said, still mystified by the sudden appearance of her sister-in-law. When her husband had said sister, she'd immediately thought of Vanya. She'd almost completely forgotten her brother's wife.
Dolores' hand went to her necklace as she began to shift her ring back and forth. They stood in silence for a moment as neither one quite knew what to say until Allison spoke again: "that's Five's jacket, isn't it? Is he with you?"
The girl's face visibly fell at the question and Allison immediately felt guilty. "No, he isn't," Dolores told her. "I don't know where he is."
They quieted again except for the slight noise that came from the ring sliding against the chain. The brunette observed her sister-in-law and she regretfully noticed how content she seemed. Allison wasn't worried about the end of the world or had all of her thoughts consumed by her missing husband. She had created a life here, found someone to love and moved on. She seemed to fit in this timeline far better than Dolores ever had.
As she grew to realize this, Dolores also knew she couldn't break Allison's happy bubble. She'd come to her sister-in-law fully intending to get her help with the apocalypse but she couldn't bring herself to take away the woman's serenity. Instead, she decided on: "Ray seems wonderful."
"He is," Allison agreed with obvious warmth. "I'm very lucky." The brunette observed the younger girl for a second. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"
Dolores couldn't help but brighten. "That would be great, thank you."
✧✧✧
September 21st, 1963, 11:15a.m.
While Dolores knew exactly where Luther was and who he worked for, she (pettily) refused to see him. Instead, she waited for Reginald's next contact where he insisted that he would never adopt someone with such a hero complex as Diego apparently seemed to have.
As it turned out, the idiot had tried to prevent JFK's assassination before it happened by loitering near Lee Harvey Oswald's house enough to get him sent to the psychiatric ward. With much sighing, the brunette boarded the bus and made her way there with little hope that she would get help from this sibling-in-law.
She had never been to a sanitarium before but she had seen the Hollywood interpretation of it in movies and, despite everything she'd lived through, entered the building with more than a little apprehension. Thankfully, though, the bright, white space (while hospital-like) was relatively friendly and not at all haunted, at least as far as she could tell. Approaching the desk, she cleared her throat to gain the gruff-looking man's attention. "I'm here to see a patient— my brother, Diego Hargreeves."
The employee barely looked up and drawled monotonously: "take a seat, your name will be called."
Rolling her eyes, Dolores did as he said. Her hand immediately reached up to play with her ring as she waited. Nearly half an hour later, a rough voice called out: "Hargreeves?"
The brunette stood and made her way to the desk. "Yes?"
"Name and relationship to patient?"
"Dolores Hargreeves, sister."
"You will be called back momentarily."
Biting back a retort, the girl turned on her heel and marched back to her chair. She added a tapping foot to her impatient habit. Finally, she was lead down the hall by a man dressed in white to a sparsely filled room with only a table and two chairs. Two more men dressed similarly stood against the wall.
Diego was led in by yet more employees, though Dolores did a double-take at his appearance. His hair was shaggier than when she'd last seen him and there was a wild look to his expression that made her think placing him in here was a good idea. His eyes widened when he saw her and the guards forced him into the empty seat.
In an attempt to break the ice, she nodded to his clothes. "You look good in white."
"Where's Five?"
The brunette stiffened and unconsciously tugged the boy's jacket more tightly around her. "I don't know."
"Really? I thought you two were attached at the hip." She noted the scorn in his voice.
"Well, we're not. It's nice to see you too, Diego."
"What are you doing here?" he asked. He leaned forward and lowered his voice: "are you gonna get me released?"
"In what universe is going after Oswald a good idea, Diego?" Dolores retorted. "Nothing has happened yet, of course they're going to put you in here!"
"I'm trying to save JFK! Apparently the government doesn't appreciate my efforts."
The girl scoffed. "I guess you are completely mental. There's bigger things at stake here than one man's assassination!"
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"The apocalypse."
"No shit," Diego snapped, "but that doesn't happen for another sixty years."
Dolores shook her head. "We brought it here with us."
Now the man gave her an incredulous look. "Are you sure you shouldn't be in here with me?"
The brunette glared at him and leaned forward as well until they were nose-to-nose. Her blue eyes bore into his brown ones. "I know what I'm talking about," she hissed quietly. "I saw it. I lived in it. Your weak mind could never comprehend what I've been through so never question me again."
At her insult to his intelligence, Diego lurched forward as she drew back but before he could do anything, the guards were quick to force him into his seat as he scowled at her. "My mind is not weak," he growled.
Dolores relaxed against the back of her chair and gave the man a lazy smirk as she crossed her arms to infuriate him even more. "Here's the deal, Mongo. If I get you out, you help me stop the apocalypse, end of story."
"Okay," he agreed. "After I kill Oswald."
The girl groaned. "No, Diego. Either you help me with the apocalypse or you're stuck here until I say otherwise."
"I'm not compromising my mission for you," the man informed her sharply. "I'll make my own plan to escape, thanks."
"Fine," she agreed as she stood. "Then we're done here. I hope you enjoy being locked up."
"Yeah," he called after her. "I hope you and Five have a nice life together! Oh, wait— you don't know where he is!"
Dolores froze at the entrance of the room but willed herself not to feel the sting of his words. She forced herself to continue towards the exit without retaliating sharply in response.
Diego's Oswald-obsession made her cross him off her list, which left her with two remaining Hargreeves: Vanya, who was set to arrive sometime in October, and Five, whose equations she was to. . . scared to solve.