• WEDNESDAY •
* 1963 *
The car pulled up to a dark, basic office building. I opened the car door, slamming it shut as I stared up at the building. "This is it."
The engine to the car came to a stop. Diego and Five exited, walking over to join me at the front. "D.S. Umbrella," Diego noted. "This is it."
We walked up the pathway to the door, but Five paused when he noticed the company logo. It was the exact umbrella that all the kids had tattooed on them. I faintly recalled holding Five's hand, allowing him to squeeze extremely tight as the ink glided onto his pale skin. Reginald had told me that I also needed to get a tattoo, but after much (and by much, I mean much, it took a lot of convincing) time, he dropped the notion and allowed my arm to be clean. "You okay?" I asked him.
Five turned to me quickly, as if I had snapped him out of a trance. "Uh, yeah," he replied. "Fine. Just..."
Diego unsheathed one of his many knives. We paused at the front door, looking to see if there was anyone inside. "How long has it been since you've seen the old man?" Diego asked, kneeling down so that he could begin to pick the locks.
"Forty-Five years," I answered for him.
Diego looked up at the both of us. He sighed, shaking his head as he began to try to pick the lock. "That's a trip."
I stood beside Five as he let out a long, drawn out sigh. "No kidding." He paused. I watched as he glanced down at the ground, refusing to make eye contact as he spoke. "You know, when we were stuck out there in the apocalypse, there wasn't a day that went by where I didn't hear his voice in my head."
Five still refused to look at me when my head shot up to try and meet his eyes. "You never told me that," I whispered meekly (why...why wouldn't he tell me that? he trusts me, right? everyday when we were stuck out there Five never mentioned his father. he refused to even bring him up for a second. so why is he telling me this now?). "What...what was he saying?"
"I told you so," Five responded. Finally, finally, he turned to look at me. His eyes were a pool of sadness and, what looked like, regret. (although it sounds cliche) It broke my heart to see him like that.
Diego scoffed gently. "Well, if dad's here he's never met you before, so he can't say I told you so."
"I'm sure he'll find a way." Five was joking, attempting to lighten the dark mood that he'd set, but it wasn't working (remind me later to talk to him about this. if he thinks he's getting away with being emotionally traumatized and not telling me about it he's got another thing coming). Five looked into my eyes for a second longer before blinking into the room and unlocking it from inside.
"Right," Diego said, standing up as Five opened the door for us. "Gotta remember that."
The three of us waltzed into the empty reception room. Five flicked on an old lamp from a coffee table, but a second after it flickered then died. "Shit," Five said.
"Guess your dad wasn't much of a home decorator," I chuckled. I turned, punching one of the pillows and finding that it was still not worn in yet. It felt new. "Feels more like a front."
"A front for what?" Diego questioned.
"I don't know," Five responded. He took another long look around the room.
"Well, I'll take the left. You two take right," Diego ordered. He opened up the door, about to walk in, when he turned back towards us. "Yell if you, uh, get in trouble."
Five opened the door to the right, stepped back to let me in first. When the door shut behind us, we were met with a hallway filled with doors. The first door we tried was locked, the second one open. I glanced at Five, who nodded. He flicked on the light switch to his right, and the room before us flickered slightly before turning on fully. Inside were three mannequins; a girl, a mother, and a father. The room had a living room type feel to it, the only odd thing among everything else was the backdrop. It was a simple neighborhood with an explosion in the distance. Suddenly, the lights went out.
"What are you up to?" Five grumbled.
The next room we walked into had another creepy mannequin family, but this time they were seated at a dinner table. There was a small desk to the left, which Five and I immediately began searching. I pawed through the drawers as Five went through the mail. "Hey, Wednesday."
"Yeah?" I said, peeking my head up. Five held out a small, folded piece of paper. It read like a fancy invitation, basically telling us that Reginald was going to be at some fancy dinner party...tomorrow. I folded the paper up, handing it to Five. "Put it in your pocket."
He did just that, stuffing it into his blazer, when the sudden sound of metallic clanging caught our attention. The two of us tiptoed through the room, soft grunts and clangs continuing to sound out. I took in the room before noting a small corner by the ventilator. I poked Five in the shoulder, pointing to the corner.
Just then, a small monkey crawled out. "Pogo?" I questioned. Both Five and I crouched down as Pogo approached. "It's okay, buddy."
"Pogo," Five marveled quietly, a small smile forming on his face. "It's good to see you." He reached out to touch him. When he did make contact, Pogo slashed his claws out, making contact with skin. Five fell backwards. Pogo hooted, moving on to me. I attempted to shield my face, but was too late. Pogo had slashed me just above my eyebrow. I could feel the blood trickle down my head and close to my eyes.
Pogo crashed through a glass wall, chittering away from us.
"DIEGO!" Five shouted. "DIEGO!"
•
My arm burned, but I couldn't bring myself to care as we blinked into Elliot's house. The first thing I noticed was Lila, standing over Diego and tending to some sort of wound. "Oh, he isn't dead."
"Disappointed?" Lila retorted.
"Oh, to see you? Always," Five said, sending her a sarcastic smile as he picked up a disinfectant wipe, two actually, before I slapped him hand away and grabbed the whole first aid kit.
"So much hostility in such a tiny package," Lila said. She continued tending to Diego, glancing up at us as I forced Five to sit down on the couch. Pogo had cut Five on the neck, as opposed to cutting me on the face. "Did you cut yourself shaving? I could teach you to shave like a big boy."
Five sighed, turning his head upwards so that I could work at his cut. "No, I just ran into an old family friend."
"And you?"
I grabbed the alcohol, pouring some onto a cotton pad before pressing it to Five's wound. He hissed quietly, (Five never tried to show he was hurt or bothered by something unless I was there. it made me feel better about myself) but other than that was quiet as I cleaned up his wound. When I reached for a bandage, Five stopped me, shaking his head. "Same thing."
"My turn," Five whispered to me. He forced me to look downwards, plucking a cotton pad and applying a generous amount of alcohol. He cleaned up the blood that had dripped down my face before gently cleaning up the cut. I didn't hesitate to allow him to put a bandage on it.
After cleaning up the first aid kit, I set it on the coffee table and stood up, Five's hand in mine. "We'll be right back," I told Lila. She nodded, not stopping us as Five and I began to make our way to the darkroom. We paused when we noticed that Elliot was still tied down, soundly asleep.
"You didn't untie him?" Five asked.
"Was I supposed to?" Lila answered.
I rolled my eyes, leaving Elliot and tugging Five into the darkroom. He sighed, leaning against the closed door as I propped myself up on the counter. "Why did you never tell me that?"
Five feigned innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh come on, Five!" I exclaimed frustratedly, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "You know damn well what I'm talking about. You told me that you never thought about your dad. You told me that you were fine, everyday, for 45 years. You think I can't handle your feelings, Five? For God's sake! We're assassins not teenagers!" (okay, i know that sounds ironic, but I meant teenagers as in actual teens. not 50-year-olds in teenagers bodies).
"I'm not gonna say I'm sorry because I am not sorry," Five told me finally. "I just didn't want you to worry. I threw you into my fucked up problems by letting you come to the academy. Then, I took you to the apocalypse with me. It would've been better if I had just let you be."
"No," I said. "It wouldn't have. I would've been stuck in an abusive household, gotten addicted to fucking drugs or something, and died. You helped me, Five. All I'm asking is that you let me help you."
A sudden surge of relief (?) filled me when Five pushed himself off the door and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. I let him hold me, as he allowed me. I don't know how long we spent in that old closet, hugging each other, but it was very needed.
When I finally tried to pull back, Five only held me tighter. I swore I could hear him tell me, "Don't."
And, despite the fact that we were wasting time to help save the world, I didn't let go.
I only held on tighter.
•
uhhh anyways, i guess i made the ending a little bit too sappy. and yes i used a cmbyn gif please don't kill me lmao.
so, i'm bored, so tell me who your favorite swede is (tbh they deserved better). swede number one (the one that survived till the end), swede number two (the one who died because allison rumored his brother to kill him), or swede number three (the first one to die).
swede number three was my favorite but idk about you guys. love you all loads!
-maya💛