Violet jogged downstairs in the hopes to catch up with Five but as she opened the door, she caught a glimpse of him disappearing around the corner.
She could have called out for him but the words died on her tongue and she went to follow him, cloaking with her invisibility to keep herself out of the public eye. She would have done it anyways but the fact her face was still plastered across the city as a missing person meant she couldn't risk being recognised.
In the process of following Five who appeared to be following someone else who was too far away for her to see, something on a television in the window of a store caught her eye.
Violet backtracked, suddenly intrigued, as the news station played out with subtitles at the bottom of the small screen.
At recognising the bruised, black and white face shown in the top right corner, her fists clenched at her sides. He had scuffed up hair and harsh eyes and she fought to tear her gaze away from the image, having his eyes already burnt into her memory, unable to shake them.
-confession made by twenty two year old James Fellgrave, a new revelation in the mission Violet case: the only words police managed to get out of him was that he murdered his former friend after seeing the violent extent he was willing to go with the victim - but Violet's whereabouts are still unknown and Police say Fellgrave has sworn to say no more on the matter-
Violet couldn't believe what she was seeing. He had confessed.
He had actually done it.
This uncertain feeling made her hesitate in her chase for Five, suddenly conflicted as she stared at the updates rolling across the bottom of the screen for her missing persons case.
- There is high levels of concern for the girl who's wellbeing is in question. As the suspect vows to make no other comment the public is left reeling with all the questions left unanswered as his sentence is to be decided later this week.
A shoulder knocked into her own and she was snapped out of her daze, backing away from the person with her breath hitching. But when she looked, the thin, older man in all black continued walking down the street before disappearing into the regular thrum of people. She blanched, looking down at herself, realising she was visible.
How long had she let herself become uncloaked?
Violet shook her tingling hands out at her sides, uncomfortable, and tucked her head down before disappearing.
She managed to catch up with Five and followed his trail to a warehouse further away from the bustle of the main high streets. Doing what she did best, she snuck inside by quickly phasing herself through the door to make less sound before turning invisible again before anyone saw her.
Violet followed the sounds of a struggle where she rounded a set of metal pipes connected to vats of chemicals surrounded by huge crates stacked around the dimly lit room. She peered around a set of crates to see Five pinning Lila to the floor with his shoe pressing against her throat.
"You're better than I thought." The british woman croaked, trying to release the pressure on her windpipe but failing.
Violet frowned deeply at the sight; she'd been too caught up with her own issues that she had forgotten the twinge of uncertainty she always got around Lila. Five, she knew, hadn't trusted her - but she hadn't known specifically why.
Now it seemed she was against them the whole time.
Five looked down at her coldly. "And you are entirely average."
Violet found herself a little bit upset that Lila had betrayed them. Despite knowing her for a short while, when she had showed up injured after the attack it had been her who had shown her kindness and solidarity - it had been because she was a woman, too, and she guessed she understood. But now, she didn't know how to feel about the woman.
"You can come out now." Five called out without turning.
Her eyes widened and for a split second she thought he was talking about her, but that notion disappeared when the tapping of high heels approached from the opposite side of the room and a poised looking woman stepped out.
She had coiled, dyed brown hair, red lips and a dress sense that seemed old fashioned and oddly stylish at the same time.
Immediately, Violet backed up a step even if she was quite a distance away, wanting nothing more than to put even more distance between them because she knew who she was.
The Handler; the woman she had heard only terrible stories about, the woman who had manipulated Five for years, turned him into a killer, and used a version of Violet from another timeline to blackmail him into being a loyal worker.
"Well done. You figured it out." The handler didn't seem surprised.
"Well, it wasn't very hard," Five hadn't taken his piercing eyes off of Lila below him. "She fights like every one of you commission drones."
The woman shrugged, coming to a stop beside the boy. "No matter," she said lightly. "Here we are. Together again. I've gotta ask... did you miss me, you little shit?"
Violet hopped up silently onto one of the crates, pulling her legs up and sitting with them crossed beneath her. She was watching the short distance between the handler and Five like a hawk, grip tightening on the edge of the crate.
"Planting her in a psych ward, taking advantage of my simpleton brother," Five listed, voice dropping then into an irritated whisper. "That was smart."
The woman gazed down at Lila almost... lovingly. "Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
His head whipped around to face her as his eyes widened. "She's your-"
"-daughter, yes. And she's my only one so I'd appreciate if you didn't crush her windpipe."
At that, Violet almost wished he did.
She looked between the woman and Lila, noting no similarities in features or appearance - they weren't related by blood, that much was clear, so she was adopted. Where the hell had that vile woman found a child? From what she knew from Five, she worked for the commission which was based in the nineteen fifties perpetually in a space sort of between time. She also didn't seem the type to care for anyone, not unless it gained her anything in the long run.
Five reluctantly lifted his foot from Lila's throat and she got up, glaring down at the boy as he looked back at her smugly.
"I am so going to enjoy killing you someday."
"Lila, darling, would you give us a minute, please?"
"Yes, the grown ups need to talk." Said Five snarkily, sliding his hands into his pockets.
Lila glared and shook her head, annoyed, before reluctantly leaving the two alone. When she was gone, Violet noted the tension in the room rise tenfold.
"What do you want?" Five asked stonily.
"Do you like jazz, Five?" She asked instead, walking slowly around him.
Violet wished the sharpness of her glare could cut the woman, if she were honest. She hated how close she was to Five. It didn't feel right.
"I'd rather lick a cheese grater." He said back quickly.
The woman sighed. "Jazz is like a beautiful woman," she traced her finger along the side of Five's stoic face and Violet had to stop herself from storming over there and slapping her hand away. "Complex, emotional, hard to please. She doesn't just give it to you... she makes you work for it."
Violet wanted to watch the handlers fingers snap like twigs.
"I'm really hoping you're going somewhere with this," Five angled his head away and she lowered her hand, but didn't take a step back, staying within his personal space with a sly smile.
"Under my leadership, the commission would sound more like jazz," the handler began to mimic a soft jazz rhythm while moving her hands for emphasis, now far, far to close to Five's side.
Five was keeping his cool, jaw tense, but Violet had to physically hold onto her hands tightly to stop herself from doing something hasty.
She wanted to watch this woman burn.
"And what about the board of directors?" Asked Five.
"Well, that's where you come in." She smiled and tapped Five lightly on the nose with her finger.
Violet silently wished Five would slap her hand away, but he kept up with the calm facade, she knew, to let her know he wasn't bothered by her presence.
Violet thought back to how there was a version of herself that had met this woman, in the apocalypse, and began wondering how different she must have looked then. It troubled her to know that that version of herself was still alone and suffering, without Five, wondering if he would ever come back. But she had to reason with herself that it wasn't her, not really, as she had no memory of this. But it could have been.
Her fingers trailed over all the scars on her arms absentmindedly to distract herself.
"Nope. No it isn't." Five immediately shook his head with a fake smile.
"In exchange for assassination of the board," the handler circled the boy like a lion stalking her prey. "I'm willing to get you and your family out of this timeline and back to twenty nineteen where you belong."
Hope sparked in Violet's heart, but it was bittersweet.
This woman was not to be trusted - and she prayed Five was smart enough to realise this.
"And what about the doomsday thats to set off in just a few days?" Five inquired.
"Once you and your siblings are gone," she shrugged. "That all goes away."
It didnt seem real to Violet. Already she was so used to fighting it all, constantly looking over their shoulders for impending danger, that the possibility of a normal timeline didnt seem possible.
"And the apocalypse we get in twenty nineteen?"
"That too."
Five shook his head, eyes narrowed in on her untrustingly. "I distinctly remember you telling me that that apocalypse had to happen - that it was supposed to happen."
The Handler shrugged dismissively. "Back then I was toeing the company line. But once I'm in charge... we can riff."
"Jazz." Five breathed, considering the possibility.
Violet hopped down from the crate, too fidgety to stay still, something in her pocket brushing against her arm and making her turn. When she did, her shoe knocked a piece of metal and it made a tiny scraping sound that echoed, and she froze, head whipping back round to the front.
Five's eyes shot in her direction but the Handler was still mimicking a jazz tune, eyeing the boy with a grin.
For a brief second Violet believed he could see her, but he looked back to the woman immediately after and she released a breath she didnt know she had held.
"What about the board of directors?" He ruffled his hair, looking down in deep thought and leaning back against one of the other crates in the room. "Nobody knows who they are."
"Correct," the handler confirmed. "But once every fiscal quarter, they get together for a board meeting."
The boy tilted his head curiously. "Where?"
It pained her to know he was considering this.
"The question is when," the woman corrected. "They meet somewhere in the timeline but never in the same place twice. The exact location and date of these board meetings is the most closely guarded secret in the commission."
Five crossed his arms in thought. "But you know where its gonna be, dont you?"
"Would I be any good at what I do if I didnt?" She asked with a sly smile, approaching him again.
Violet tensed, fists clenching, as she quietly stared at Five who was mulling over his options seriously. "I need some time to think about it." He said finally.
"Fine," the woman turned to watch him leave, calling out. "But remember, doomsday is right around the corner and the way things are going, I'm your only option."
Violet scowled.
Five scoffed on his way out, calling back smugly. "Not yet you aren't."
The girl moved quickly to follow him out, giving the Handler a wide birth as she moved past her, unable to help her glare.
Five opened the door and stormed outside. Violet caught the door before it shut and left after him, her shoes crunching the gravel beneath it, something she couldn't control.
The boy stilled suddenly, looking over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. When he found nothing, the tension in his shoulders released and his expression softened.
"You following me?" He asked lightly.
Violet uncloaked, looking sheepish and shrugging one shoulder up in response. She closed the distance between them, hand rubbing her arm.
"Would have preferred if you didn't see that in there." He admits quietly.
"I don't like her." Violet whispered softly, thinking back to that woman and unable to control the automatic scowl on her face.
He twitched a smile at that, but his smile quickly faded. "I don't like her any more than you do, trust me."
She shifted, eyes trailing to his hands and the strange urge to hold his in her own hits her, confusing her. She rubbed her elbow and looks away. There was a silent question in her eyes that she couldn't voice and he tried to read it, watching her closely.
He sighed, sliding his hands away into his pockets, looking off to the side uncomfortably. "She is unfortunately the only thing standing between us and a briefcase," he explained thoughtfully. "And as much as I'd enjoy watching you snap her neck for all the things she's made me do..."
He trailed off, shrugging slightly, looking down at his feet while Violet looked up at him. She regarded him softly.
God, she would have loved to have snapped that womans neck the second she trailed her hand down his face. Even thinking back to it had made her stomach twist in discomfort.
Violet went to reach for one of his hands, surprising him enough to make him lift his eyes from the floor to look at her. Her light fingers trailed his and she carefully slid her fingers between his.
He was thinking of another her, another time, another life he had weighing him down, staining his hands with a crimson shade of guilt.
Violet could see the sadness in the backs of his eyes everytime he looked at her because she recognised it so much in herself when she looked in the mirror. It was a haunting, glassy look that was unnoticeable to everyone who wasn't looking deep enough.
"I think the other me would have understood," she whispered in his ear, and he looked at her softly. They were awfully close and she fought the urge to pull away, fighting back against the little voice in her head telling her to step away so she could breathe again. "what it took-" she looked down, almost as though she was searching for the right words. (That was exactly what she was doing.) "To get here... even if it was without her."
The pain in Five's chest was crushing. He could feel her breath fanning his cheek and something in his stomach stirred. He shook his head at her. "That doesn't make it any easier."
"Stop thinking about it," she urged him, tightening her hand in his and making him swallow thickly. "I'm here."
That was all she could offer, it was all she had.
And Five would take it.
He would take any version of his Violet that he could get, and as he stood there staring into her eyes, he found his purpose in them and nodded once.
Her hand was an anchor grounding him to the earth.
He didn't want to speak to disturb the moment, fearful she would take it away.
Her other hand went to her pocket where she had felt something earlier, her heart hammering at their closeness, finding a need to get a distraction from their closeness; she enjoyed it, but she enjoyed it perhaps a little too much and that scared her.
She pulled it out and stared down at the small envelope that had been tucked in her back pocket; still, she had no idea where it had come from.
"What's that?"
She handed it over and instead of dropping her hand so he could hold the paper and open it at the same time, he brought it up to his mouth and tore the envelope open with his teeth. He pulled the paper out and dropped the envelope to the floor, holding it so they could both see it.
Violet peered over his shoulder while standing on her tip toes, scanning the neat handwriting.
To my persuers; I, Sir Reginald Hargreeves, request the pleasure of your company for a light supper on the 20th of November, 1963, at half past seven o'clock.
An address sat scrawled underneath.
They finished reading at the same time and exchanged a look - Violet with much dread and reluctance.
She swallowed and ran her fingers over the callouses on Fives hands, rough against her scarred ones.
"Well, looks like it's time for a family reunion." Five muttered.
Violet pulled a face. He almost chuckled at it.
"Yeah, but we may not have a choice," he said gently. He knew how she felt about Sir Reginald Hargreeves. "Between Reginald Hargreeves and the Handler, I know who I'm picking."
Violet tightened her hold on his hand and looked away, supposing he was right. But still, she fucking hated it.
"Its tomorrow," Five told her, nudging her shoulder. "What do you want to do until then?"
Would it be bad if she said anything as long as she could hold his hand a little longer?
She wished she had the confidence to say it.
She wished she had the confidence to say a lot of things.
Violet shrugged and shyly looked down at her feet.
He thought for a moment, a small smile forming on his lips, and he tucked the letter away in one of his blazers pockets.
"I think I have an idea."
âââ
Obviously Five knew that no self respecting bar or establishment would serve two people who looked like teenagers, alcohol. He also knew that they couldn't risk anyone recognising Violet's face because of how up in the air the missing persons case was.
Five Hargreeves also knew that Violet would have felt uncomfortable in a public place where the music was loud and carefree people thrived.
Which was what led to Violet and Five sitting on the roof of Elliot's apartment building, their legs dangling over the edge of the wall so high up that no one walking by would even notice - nor have any reason to look up. When Five came back from where ever he had gone (he didnt tell her what he was up to, keeping it secret,) he held a fruity looking cocktail in each hand and handed one to her with a charming grin.
Violet rose an eyebrow, looking down at her drink in question then back up at him as he sat himself next to her.
"Passion fruit martini." He revealed, shrugging and taking a sip of his own. "I thought you'd like it."
He knew she didn't particularly enjoy alcohol, both for its effect nor its taste, and so a fruity cocktail mix seemed perfect for her.
She put the straw to her mouth and tried some, a bit reluctant. She was surprised by its sweet taste and although she could sense the hint of vodka, the passion fruit liquer was the main part.
Five nodded and gestured over to her pointedly. "See? Cheers."
They clicked their glasses together.
The two of them sat idly for a while in a comfortable silence, sipping their drinks and watching the odd person walk by down below. It was getting late and the clouds overhead were darkening the sky as the sun set in the distance over the tall buildings, casting the streets in a deep orange glow as shops began shutting for the evening and people began heading home after work shifts.
Violet certainly wasn't opposed to getting a bit drunk the day before they had to see Reginald; if anything, she needed it. Five knew her all too well.
As they're sitting in a comfortable quiet, just people watching, she felt him glancing at her out the corner of her eye and opted to stay quiet about it. Or she was, until her stomach swarmed with the anxiety of the unknown of why he kept looking at her, and her mind started to come up with stupid reasons that started to make her feel insecure.
Violet swivelled to face him and crossed her legs beneath her, sitting back from the wall at the edge, resting the bottom of her glass on her knee. He turned to mirror her movements when she gave him a pointed, questioning look.
He glances down to something and for a second she thinks she'd spilt some on her top when he slowly raised his hand. He had a concerned expression on his face as he reached out towards her, his fingertips lightly brushing the angry, round red scar that tore across her sternum in the middle of her chest.
Her skin warms immediately and she tightened her hold around her glass, breath hitching.
"This ones new." He says lowly, barely above a whisper, touch so light she almost doesn't feel it, but the effect of the touch is still all the same.
She was sure he could feel the rapid pace of her heart under his fingertips. Still, she didnt pull away from him, the feeling of his skin against hers making something in her skull buzz. (Then again, maybe it was the alcohol.)
Violet swallowed and when he pulled away, there was a tingling feeling left without his skin against hers. She couldn't explain the feeling. It was nervousness, but also something else and it made her want to down the rest of her drink in the hopes the light feeling across her mind would give her an explanation.
"He shot me," she whispered, and his head snapped up, eyes piercing her own.
He sat so close their knees were barely knocking together.
Immediatelh he knew who she was talking about, and his entire demeanor changed. His jawline sharpened as he clenched his teeth, eyes the darkest shade of green she had ever seen.
After a long moment, she added, barely audible with downwards eyes. "He was going to kill me."
The pulling of the trigger had been done out of shock in the heat of the moment but he had found her with the same intent in mind. Little did he know she couldn't die, and instead had lived through the agony of the bullet tearing through her sternum and lung which then filled with blood and fluid.
She swallowed thickly at the memory.
"I shouldn't have left you alone." He maintained.
Violet shrugged one shoulder, taking a long sip of her drink. She didn't like talking about the what ifs, she hated this conversation. She knew Five meant well, but bringing it up was making the scar burn and her chest feel heavy.
"I should have-"
His voice box seemed to stop working when she reached out to grasp his hand sat in his lap, taking it in her own, still looking down at the ground, unable to lift her eyes to meet his.
The roles had been reversed, then, as she gained the confidence to initiate the touch and he was rendered mute.
His hand tightened around her own and she exhaled slowly in a sigh.
He scanned her face from the side, a strong feeling in his gut that made his train of thought derail completely.
She just didn't want it to dampen the nice moment between the two. She wanted to remember this.
Here they sat, almost dead yesterday, maybe dead tomorrow, but gloriously alive today.
And usually Violet felt this hollowness in her day to day life, but now, in this moment and in the rare ones in-between, she felt alive.
Not like she was just surviving.
And for the first time in her life she wanted something more than just their hands clasped together, the feeling of their skin together growing on her, not as bad as that little voice in the back of her head had told her all her life.
Maybe it was the alcohol in her system, she didn't know. She didn't know a lot of things in that moment.
But as a chill ran across her skin creating goosebumps, she was sorely surprised when Five pulled his hand from hers. She couldnt help the disappointed frown on her face as her hand met air, but she watched him shrug off his uniform blazer curiously and was surprised when turned to her and wrapped it around her shoulders with a tenderness she hadn't seen on him in a while.
"Here."
She was grateful for her hair shielding the redness in her face as he then gently scraped her hair up to untuck it from the neckline.
She did not have the heart nor confidence to tell him the shivers weren't because of the cold.
She tugged the fabric closer around her, still, and shyly flashed him a warm smile in thanks.
They stared at eachother for a moment and she pulled her eyes down to her drink, slurping up the rest of it, anxiety crawling up her spine as it often did.
It was just Five, she shouldn't have felt so nervous, but here she was.
When she finished her drink and he downed the rest of his, he brushed himself off and disappeared in a blink, leaving her alone and questioning what he was doing mentally. He came back, and when he sat down next to her again, she gave a little giddy grin when he handed her another drink, keeping his own for himself.
"Where are you getting these?" She whispered, happily taking another long sip. She was beginning to feel its effects, lighter than usual and with a bit of a buzz in her ears, but she didn't care for it.
It was a rare, nice feeling.
He shrugged, leaning back in one hand and tilting his head. "The bar that I first found Luther in; Bartender spends most of his time too distracted by the dancers to notice them disappearing."
The two grinned at eachother, and God, she thought, eyes darting down momentarily to his lips. That boyish grin could quite possibly heal the world.
Five and Violet spent the rest of the evening drinking cocktails and didn't stop when it became hard to keep themselves sitting upright - so they ended up shoulder to shoulder, slyly using eachother for stability, gazing up at the stars and trying to point out any shapes or constellations they could find.
One thing Violet could credit to this timeline was that the light pollution was no where near as bad as in twenty nineteen, meaning the stars were brighter above them. The boy next to her had felt the same about the apocalypse - the only thing, apart from the other Violet's companionship, was that the night sky looked stunning. The earth had wiped out all light pollution and when the raining ash had cleared, the one thing good thing they had was that the stars above them looked incredible; even if they weren't technically with them, without society, it made them feel less alone somehow.
Seven or eight glasses down, they finally decided to head inside to get some sleep, noting it was now early hours in the morning and the world around them had gone serenely quiet as the sun was due to rise in a couple hours.
She linked her arm with Five's as they made it to the guest bedroom, her giggling a little bit when he fumbled for the light switch and missed the first time.
Thankfully no one was home to see them.
They were both tired and ended up lying down, kicking their shoes off and after a while of lying side by side, Violet fell asleep curled up beside him with her hand grazing his own.
Sleep came quick for both the intoxicated teenagers, and they both needed those couple of hours not worrying about everything weighing on their shoudlers more than either would admit.