Just as Charlotte Cafferty came into the world, she started to fade out of it. It was poetic, really. Lying on the wet sidewalk, assisted by strangers. If only her mother could be there, that would be the real kicker. Bring this whole thing full circle.
Similarly to her birth, she was silent. The only noise she made was her rapid breathing and the occasional pained gasp. She was in shock. One moment she was debating finding a good coffee shop, or even going back to Griddy's, and the next, she was laying on the sidewalk with a gun shot wound to the chest.
Her mind was desperately trying to put a coherent thought together.
"Somebody call an ambulance!" Someone shouted from above her. The woman's face was blurry. Why did she have to be so loud?
The rise and fall of her chest off the cement was slowing. Blood mingled with the rain coming down around them. Charlotte's bright yellow raincoat deflected both.
It was almost like her brain wouldn't let her know she was dying. Or at least, whatever signals it would normally send to the body to start panicking were non-existent. She lay still, in a growing pool of blood, watching the sky rain down on her. It would be peaceful if it weren't for the sound of sirens.
That part didn't matter, though, because Charlotte's eyes were glossing over. The brown irises reflected the dark clouds above her.
This is beautiful, she thought suddenly. The sky, the tiny raindrops landing on her pale cheeks, even the wirring sound of the sirens drawing closer.
But she was too late to take in all the beauty around her. Her body was already growing cold. The person above her left when the paramedics came to check her body for any sign of life. They found none.
-----
"Hold on, hold on," Klaus spoke up. "We all died fighting in this thing the first time around. Remember?"
Charlotte scoffed. "Speak for yourselves."
"Shockingly, Klaus has a point."
Suddenly, the living room lit up in an electric blue and a familiar gust of stale wind washed over the group. Charlotte held her newly acquired flask to her chest.
There was a disgruntled shout, and somebody fell on the table with a thud.
"Jesus!" Allison shouted as everyone sprung back. Diego pushed himself in from of Charlotte with his knife drawn. The redhead peeked around him curiously, pushing him away from her in the process.
Klaus, who had fallen to the floor to get away, lowered his arms from around his head. "You guys, am I still high, or do you see him too?"
The siblings came to Five's aid, but he pushed them away while he struggled to roll off the bar. He snatched his sister's coffee cup. Charlotte watched him limp a few feet away from the group as he slurped the coffee. He was covered in dust and gasping like he had just run a mile. Time travel had some nasty effects, all of which she was very familiar with.
He turned toward them with a grimace. "So the apocalypse is in three days. The only chance we have to save our world is- well, us."
"The Umbrella Academy," Luther added breathlessly.
"Yeah," Five scowled. "But with me, obviously." That would have to be their advantage.
Charlotte listened to his angry pep talk halfheartedly. Despite being in the room, she didn't really feel like it was directed at her. She didn't need the same kind of motivation that the Hargreeves had. Charlotte had nothing to lose, not ever.
So this was it, huh? She had really gotten herself mixed up with the end of the world and some infuriating old man in a pubescent boy's body? This was her shot to make something of herself, to make her years of useless work for good worth something.
She slid around the counter after Diego.
"Harold Jenkins?"
"Who the hell is Harold Jenkins?" Number Two snapped.
Pushing past Luther to see the piece of paper Allison was holding, Charlotte's eyes widened. That was typed out on a document belonging to the Commission. Protect Harold Jenkins.
Slowly, her focus drifted. Her eyes scanned the ordinate area rug of the living room absently. The Commission knew about the apocalypse, was making sure that it was happening. That was what they always did with the timeline, even if it meant sudden doom, they made sure what was going to happen, happened. Somehow, someway, Harold Jenkins caused it, or was going to cause it.
A new spark of anger flared in Charlotte's chest at the reminder of the Commission. Denis knew. He had known the whole time and she had believed that everything was fine, even felt safe with him when he threw her into sudden doom.
"You know what else is insane?" Five was saying. He had his hand pressed to his side underneath his blazer and a disgusted look on his face. He pointed at himself. "I look like a thirteen year old boy," he growled. His finger shifted to the people around the room. "Klaus talks to the dead, Luther thinks he's fooling everyone with that trench coat-" his accusatory finger moved to Charlotte. "And you can't even see her half the time. Everything about this is insane."
It couldn't have been phrased better. Charlotte took a swig from the flask and cringed. Even with all the terrible things that would surely follow, it was a comfort to have Five in the same room. At least this way, they actually had a direction.
She was staring at the floor in thought again. Yeah, this was completely insane, but why ignore it when they had a chance of saving everyone?
"We don't have time for this!" At this point, he could probably trademark that phrase.
Diego agreed. "Klaus, you're with me."
The man in question hobbled away from his spot on the couch. "Yeah, I'll... I think I'll pass. I'm feeling a little under the weather."
Regardless of this, Diego, Klaus and Five walked out of the room together. Charlotte hurried after them.
Once again, she found herself cramped in the back of a car, awkwardly staring out the window. She was really starting to resent these quiet car rides. They wouldn't be so bad if everyone wasn't so tense all the time.
"So..." Allison said slowly, fiddling with her hands. "How did you guys meet? Was it like some sort of post apocalypse romance, or..."
Five and Charlotte's eyes bulged simultaneously. He gave her a look from the front seat. "No, thankfully."
So maybe she hadn't missed him as much as she thought she did. "What a gentleman. But no. Your brother gave me a concussion at a bus stop."
Diego snorted. "Was that before or after you showed up at our house?"
It was becoming clear that each of the Hargreeves had met Charlotte at different moments, and not one of them was really sure what happened to make her follow Five around. To be fair, she wasn't really sure why either.
"Before," she said.
Five pursed his lips. "In my defense, I was trying to save the world."
"You can't just use that as an excuse for everything you do."
"Shut up, we're here."
The car slid smoothly in front of the police station. It wasn't the most inconspicuous parking. Diego turned the car off.
"I know this Jenkins dude has to have a record." Everyone began unbuckling their seatbelts. "We just got to get our hands on this file."
This guy talked too much. Charlotte clicked her seatbelt and squeezed her eyes shut. She knew that she was out of sight when Allison let out a confused noise from beside her. She opened the car door and slid out of the leather seat.
Diego cut himself off when he heard the door open. "Hey! Hey get back here!"
It was too late, because Charlotte had already thrown her raincoat in the backseat and started off towards the station entrance. The coat reappeared next to Allison suddenly.
The remaining occupants of the car watched for any sign of the invisible girl. Diego sighed heavily when the door to the police station opened and shut on its own.
"She'll be fine," Five tried to reassure his brother, who didn't believe him.
"I called in a favor. You two stay here."
The station was bustling with life. Desks lined the middle of the main room, each cluttered with paperwork and knickknacks. At these desks sat a police officer, each busy clicking away at their computers or looking through paperwork. The private offices were small glass rooms off to the left. Charlotte went for those, where there were less people and it would be easier to look through stuff.
The first office she found was occupied by a man frantically typing away at his laptop. She skipped this one in favor of the empty room to the left of him. Carefully, she slipped through the ajar door. After years of practice, she had perfected the art of going unnoticed on all fronts.
She went for the filing cabinets and slowly opened the top shelf. Instead of being filled with manila folders and labeled tabs, somebody had just thrown in a miscellaneous pile of documents. Charlotte flipped through some of the pages, but quickly realized that they were all reports filed by victims of crimes and not information on criminals. She worked from top to bottom on the first cabinet, finding nothing of value.
So the first room she looked through was useless, but she was determined. Charlotte pressed herself against the wall as a group of detectives passed by. She held her breath until they were out of range, and moved on to another room.
By the time a bald detective showed up in the room she was currently looking through, Charlotte was knee deep in files. She started to panic. Luckily, she was still invisible, but it would be lasting for much longer.
Diego strolled in after the detective. His eyes scanned the floor, where a bunch of papers had been strewn. "Damn. Things have really gone to shit since Patch."
The detective stared at the mess in confusion. "I was just in here and it looked fine. Whatever."
Charlotte let herself relax and stood next to the door before reappearing like it was nothing. She came up behind Diego, as causal as she could manage. "Have you guys found it yet?"
He flinched away from her in surprise with his fists up. "Stop doing that!"
Turning to look at them, the detective frowned at Charlotte. "Who-" he stopped himself. "Nevermind, let's just get this over with."
Diego strolled down the sidewalk smugly, the file tucked under his good arm. Charlotte followed closely with a scowl.
"So?" Five straightened when they found them on the street corner waiting.
Once again, Diego smiled triumphantly. "You're welcome." He held up the folder.
Their sister snatched it immediately and began flipping through it.
"Why so sad?" Five glanced over at Charlotte. He had that sort of casually curious look on his face like he was trying to hide his emotions to some degree. Frankly, he always seemed to be doing that.
Charlotte, who couldn't have been more annoyed, craned her neck to look at the file. "Please stop leaving me alone with your family. I barely made it out of there without stabbing him."
He let out a short laugh. The both leaned over to see the paperwork. Five was only an inch or two taller than her, but her stolen boots made them the same height. Their shoulders bumped.
"Holy shit."
"What?" They all watched Allison in anticipation.
She raised her head from the file and held it up so that they could all see the information inside. "Harold Jenkins is Leonard Peabody."
-----
Bryce stared down at the grainy picture from Denis's wallet, taking in all of the details.
It was a small photo of Denis and Charlotte, standing in front of some café in Europe. Their arms were wrapped around each other affectionately and Denis looked more happy than Bryce had ever seen him. Charlotte was wearing a sundress and a smile too wide to have been naturally occurring. It still told a story of happier days for them despite the pain behind her eyes.
"She doesn't always look like that," Denis added nervously when he saw the agent's raised brow.
He considered the forced grin on the old photo. "What does she normally look like, then?"
Denis paused. "Like... More angry than that." He nodded to the picture that he had cherished for what was probably years. Back when she trusted him with her whole heart. Or at least he thought she did.
"Is it because you're ratting her out?"
His focus stayed on Charlotte's face. There was a brick sitting in the base of his stomach, weighing him down. She hated him now, but did she then? Did Charlotte ever truly trust him? Had she ever felt the same love for Denis that he did for her?
Beside him, Bryce shifted, watching his face in amusement. "You do know what we're going to do to her, right?"
For once, Denis went quiet. He knew. He understood exactly what kind of situation he was in, too. This would be his only way out. Who was to say Charlotte didn't deserve this?
"Yes... I do."
A second passed where Bryce simply observed him, watched for any sort of doubt to register on the other man's face. He passed the faded photo back. "You two have really made things difficult."
"Well, it's over now," Denis snapped. His mood had changed to defensive in a blink. He snatched the picture and slipped it into his worn leather wallet. "It's all over," he repeated, a little harsher.
Bryce pointed in the general direction of his bulky ankle boot and other various injuries. "Did she do that?"
In a way, it felt like she had. If the emotional wounds matched up physically, it would look and feel something like that. "No. This was done by one of your coworkers, actually."
"Oh! I almost forgot about the kidnapping. A real loss with Julien being gone."
Denis narrowed his eyes in annoyance. He didn't remember seeing the agent who had kidnapped him die, but he assumed Charlotte and that kid had done something to him at some point. Good riddance.
"Yeah. A real loss. Can we get on with the profiling now?" That was why they were there.
Charlotte was five feet and one inch tall. She appeared to be about sixteen or seventeen years old. Her hair was ginger, and came halfway down her neck. She was pale, round faced, and stoic looking.
She was easy to lose in a crowd, or even an empty room, and incredibly soft footed. Charlotte was agile and would not hesitate to strike first and hard. She was easy to underestimate in a fight. It was advised to never let her get her hands on a knife or let her get behind anyone. Her strategy was simply to kill first, ask questions later. Her targets never got away.
Bryce wrote these things down, among other details and hurried off to get the information to other people. With more insight to the girl's character, she wouldn't be hard to catch... and exterminate.
Once he was out of the room, Denis deflated. He let out a sigh, allowing his lungs to empty and then slowly refill. The mental stress was becoming physical. His chest hurt like he had an extreme case of heartburn. His brain felt like it was punching the inside of his skull.
He spent the next few minutes trying to rationalize what he did, to no avail.
The door to the office opened and Bryce rushed back through. The notes he left with were gone. "We've got eyes on her."
His heart sunk. He thought that she would have more time. A part of him wanted her to escape. "Already?"
The agent nodded. "I'm being put on the case. She was spotted just a few minutes ago, outside a police station."
Shit.
"Are you okay?" Bryce asked, his eyebrows raised yet again. God, Denis just wanted to smack that look off his face. "Sure you don't want to take over? You know her best." What he meant by that was that he knew how to kill her best.
Denis shook his head no just a little too fast. "I can't, not with my leg like this. I'm no good in the field," he lied. He had done harder jobs with worse injuries, but Bryce didn't know that. "Tell me how it went when you get back." That part was hard to get out in a steady voice. Bryce probably wouldn't be coming back.
-----
The hair on the back of Diego's neck prickled.
"This is Vanya's boyfriend. I knew he wasn't who he said he was!" Allison almost shouted.
Something felt wrong. Diego rested his hand on top of his belt, where an array of knives were secured. "Guys..."
"Wait, you know him? Do you know where he lives?" Charlotte asked, still reading the profile on Harold Jenkins.
"Guys, I think we're being followed."
The group turned to him, each with their own confused frowns. Five and Allison both opened their mouths to say something, but both of them were interrupted by the sound of a bullet flying from a gun and whizzing past Charlotte's head.
She let out a strangled shriek as she disappeared again. Five made a move to cover her, but was left confused when he grabbed onto her shoulders and he vanished along with her. Someone on the sidewalk shouted and there was another gunshot.
"Go!" Diego shouted in a panic, scanning the street for the shooter and positioning himself in front of his unarmed sister.
Not far away from him, Charlotte began to sprint down the sidewalk, Five in tow.
"Slow down! I can just-"
"Shut up!" She careened into the nearest empty alley, swinging him away from her in the process. They reappeared, panting to get air back into their lungs.
With his hands on his knees, Five inhaled sharply. "Was that bullet for me or you?"
Charlotte rested the back of her head against the brick wall on the left. "I don't know." She said. The bullet had been closer to her head, but he was standing close enough that it could have been meant for him.
"We need to get back to Diego and Allison."
"No." Charlotte straightened. "We need to find who else is trying to kill us."
He extended his arms to gesture at their surroundings. "Take your pick. It could be anyone."
"I'm guessing that whatever you did at the Commission yesterday pissed them off."
Five's nose scrunched in distaste, as if she had just dug into an open wound. "Who knows? Maybe it's your ex coming to exact his revenge."
She flinched back like a wounded animal. "Don't even joke about that."
His eyes rolled and Charlotte scolded herself silently for thinking about how the light hit them just perfectly. A twinkling blue in the dark alley. Five ducked his head around the corner of one of the buildings they were standing between. Diego and Allison were dashing for the car, but there still wasn't any sign of the shooter.
That was, until another bullet bounced off the ground at Five's feet. Charlotte pulled the back of his blazer away from the corner. He fell into her, knocking them to the ground. They sat there for a moment, staring down at the smoking ground where the bullet had landed and chipped off a piece of asphalt.
"Well," Five said after a moment. "I think I know where the gunman is."
Charlotte shifted under him. "That's great, can you get off me now? You're crushing my ribs."
The bullet rained down at an angle, meaning whoever shot it was at an elevated height. Five squinted up at the building across from them, only to be met with the distant barrel of a rifle. He grasped Charlotte's hand and blinked them out of the way.
They ended up standing on top of an apartment building's flat roof, staring down their attacker, who was crouched over the edge of the roof with his gun. This time, Charlotte recovered from surprise much quicker.
In a split second, she had a knife pulled and was driving her knee into the middle of the sniper's back. The man yelped as his body thudded against the edge of the building and his gun fell out of his clutch. The blade of the knife pressed painfully up against the base of his skull.
Five watched this in amusement, ready to intervene if need be. It was nice to not have to take care of every problem presented to them. At least someone in his life was capable of handling themselves.
"I-I'm sorry!"
Above him, Charlotte didn't waver. She glanced beside them at his set up. There was a pristine black briefcase sitting there, along with a box of bullets and a machete lined up neatly. She kicked those away, making the agent inch closer to falling off the building. His face hung over the edge perfectly. "Who sent you here?" Her voice was surprisingly calm, almost mechanical. Her anger was perfectly masked by a wave of adrenaline.
The man shook his head frantically. He was eye to eye with a fall that would surely kill, or at least paralyze him. The knife dug harder into the back of his neck. "The- It was the Handler! She wanted me on the case!"
"Bullshit," Five called from behind them. "The Handler doesn't give out tasks." Unless it was for special cases of course, which the apocalypse and everyone involved certainly were. He sensed a lie, nonetheless.
Bryce closed his eyes to block out the vision of his own death. "It was Denis, Denis Finely. He came to the Commission to turn himself in and offered information on you."
The rooftop went quiet except for the breeze brushing their hair off their foreheads. Five watched Charlotte's back closely for any kind of shaking. He saw none, no sign of discontent.
In all honesty, Charlotte thought about pushing her knee forward and leaning into it during those silent moments. She thought about letting herself go down with him, just for a second. The idea brought her a strange comfort, even with the storm beginning to rage inside her.
The blade slipped between two of the smaller vertebrae in Bryce's neck. He went limp, his arms hung over the edge after a couple moments of weak struggling. Countless kills had been executed that way. The first was Andrew and the others followed in a blurry list of names and corpse-like faces.
When she took her weight off the body it fell. She didn't watch it go, but knew it hit the ground when there was a sick slapping sound, like a hunk of meat on a cutting board.
She turned to Five with a blank, unreadable expression. He expected her to be fuming, or crying, but she was way beyond that, and that was scarier than anger.
He offered his arm and she reached for it casually, as if she wasn't holding a bloodied knife in her free hand. She held onto him like she hadn't just killed a man mercilessly.