Extra Chapter - Five's pov

Chapter 20

Lies

Five Hargreeves' point of view

"Five was the one to give you the serum," the handler says.

Immediately, memories come flooding back. And yes, she's right. I was the one to put the serum in the baby . . . in Elisa. My lips part, and my stomach turns, squeezes itself, making me feel even more horrible. I never knew . . . I would've never . . .

"Is that true?" Elisa her voice shakes me out of the trance I was in. I now realize that my eyes have fallen on my feet. I get why, even now I'm unable to look Elisa in the eyes again. I did this to her . . . I made her who she is. I changed her life. Everything that happened to her is my fault. Every single time she got hurt, it's my fault.

My breathing quickens, and I'm sure to have a panic attack if I don't stop it.

"What?" My voice sounds weak, but at this moment, I don't care. I do look at the handler. There's no need to be ashamed to look at her. She was the one who ordered me to do so, after all. She was the one who made sure I did that to Elisa. But why? Did she want all of this to happen to Elisa? She must've. The handler always has everything planned out.

"You were the one to give a baby a serum, were you not?" she asks me, but we both already know the answer. Yet she can't help but add, "It's hasn't been long, too. It was the first task I gave you when you returned to us."

My eyes widen, hearing those words. My first task. I didn't know Elisa back then, but she did. She has known Elisa for so long. But that still doesn't give me an answer to my question. Why did the handler need Elisa to have the serum inside of her?

"Was it you?" Elisa her voice is quiet. I know she's afraid to ask. We both don't want it to be me, but it already happened. I fucking did it. And now I can't do anything but to accept it. To admit it . . . to her.

"Yes," I answer Elisa in a very, very quiet voice. I can't so no. I can't lie. But I'm so afraid of how she'll react. Still, I can't look at her. I can't see the pain on her face, knowing that I caused it. I just can't. For once, I'm not strong enough.

A gasp sounds, and I know it is Elisa's. Then I hear her stumbling backwards. That's when I push my cowardice to the side and look at her. She lands with her back against the wall, and it looks as if she needs all her strength to keep standing. Her eyes widen with every thought that comes to her mind—I can see it. I can see the worries starting to drown her.

I want to go up to her, to embrace her, but she deserves better than that. Hell, she deserves better than me. Yet I'm still so, so selfish when it concludes her. Because I can't just give her up and let her go. And that makes me even more awful.

In the end, she takes in a deep breath. She's furious, I notice. She fucking deserves to be furious with me.

"You," she growls. "You did this to me." I expect her to come at me. Maybe she'll even fight me, give me a lesson. I deserve it. That's why I would let her. I can't fight her. Never again.

My heart breaks even more with every second that passes, seeing her like this. What probably has been just several seconds, feels like eternity to me. And it hurts. It hurts so bad. My lungs refuse to work properly—or it's just my whole body that refuses to go on. Then I realise I don't want my body to work anymore.

No. I shake my head softly, too minimal so no one actually notices it. Whatever my body is doing—whether it's stopping with working because I want to or if it's because I fucking deserve it—it must stop. It has to. Even though Elisa would deserve to see me collapse, to see me suffer, I can't leave her alone in this huge mess. The mess I put her in—unknowingly, but still. I won't leave her. She won't want me to help her get through this, but I will. I will always help her. Damn it.

Elisa her eyes widen enormously, and I raise my eyebrows in response. Her lips part a little, as if . . . As if a whole plan is forming in her head.

"Do it," the handler speaks up, causing me to spare her a quick glance. Her eyes are trained on Elisa, and a smirk has taken over her face. It's pretty obvious she doesn't even notice my eyes on her—maybe she doesn't even remember that she isn't alone with Elisa. "I want you to do what you're planning, little one."

"I'm not planning anything," Elisa replies quickly—too quickly. She most definitely is planning something. The question is what. And how does the handler know the answer to that question and I do not? Elisa isn't simple to read. I've been wrong countless of times and it will happen again and again. But I don't mind. In fact, I love getting to know her more and more. It's something special to find out details about her on random occasions and not in one single moment.

"Aren't you?" The handler laughs loudly, making me squirm. It's a piercing and cold laugh. One that makes you think witches are real after all. Once her laugh has faded, she sighs deeply, content. "I know you, Elisa. And I want you to do it. Give yourself the life you deserve." The life she deserves. She can't possibly mean . . .

"What are you planning?" I ask Elisa. So many thoughts zoom around my head, take me over. But only one keeps sticking. But she can't. No. She can't travel in time. Well, she can, but will she? That'd mean. . .

My worries and confusion must be clear as hell because Elisa her eyes are now trained on me. I used to love it when her eyes were on me, but this time I'm not so sure. They're still her eyes. Still the ones that I love to dream of when I close my eyes, but something has changed. There's a determined twinkle in them, ready for adventure. For the life she deserves; the one that I took from her. And while I want her to have that life, it'd mean never meeting her. It's selfish, but I'm not sure if I can handle a life without her in it. Sure, I won't have met her properly, but . . . But it'll be like living my life, knowing there should be more to it, and yet, I won't ever find whatever I need to fulfill the void inside of me. The void her presence always fills up. The void that returns every time she leaves my side.

"I'm going to save my parents," she says, not breaking the eye contact. She sounds so hopeful, and she deserves to see her parents grow old. She deserves all of it. And yet, I can't help but feel my broken heart shatter even more. All the hundreds of pieces break again and again and again. It doesn't stop. But it feels as if my heart dissolves completely when she says, "I'm going to stop you from ever cursing me with these abilities." Another void, but this is one that might never heal ever again.

And that exact pain is the one that causes me to say, "You can't." My chest's to rise and fall starts to quicken, and I feel as if the walls are coming closer. Are they? It's not possible. At least, that's what I thought. But look what is possible: my brother able to talk to the dead, me having cursed the fucking love of my life when she was only a baby. So, moving walls are quite possible.

My body threatens to fall when a thought strikes me—like quite literally strikes me. I almost fall against the wall that now seems so, so close. "My younger self will be there, Elisa." Her names falls off my lips so gently. I want to repeat it a hundred times more. But even that I don't deserve. Not anymore. Maybe never again.

"I'm not afraid of a fight," Elisa answers. I know she isn't. That's who she is. That's who she's trained to be. Still, her determination to fight me prickles me.

"He won't let you stop him." I need to make her see sense. That's why I place my hands on her shoulders. And even now I'm lying—I also want this contact. Even if it's like this, I want to remember every time I touched her. Every detail of it. "He will stop you." I shouldn't underestimate her. She has bested me before and she will do so again, but that assassin she will face has the very same determination as her. He wants to find out what causes the end of the world. He wants to save everyone. And Elisa will be the one in his way.

Immediately, a grin lights up Elisa her face. The twinkle in her eyes once again takes me captive. It has grown, gotten more serious. "No." She shakes her head, still grinning like an idiot. I don't like that she's grinning for that. I want to make her grin like that. "He'll try to stop me. I'd like to see him try."

"It's dangerous," I raise my voice a little. She must see this. That Five doesn't know her. He won't care if she dies. But I can't live with the fact that a version of me killed her. I just can't.

"You stopped having the right to worry about me the moment you left me," Elisa snaps at me, her grin disappearing in just one blink.

My mouth opens a little, and I want to speak . . . I want to tell her she's wrong, but really, she is so right. The void grows. It takes everything, swallows everything in its path. It's as if my whole body just accepts the fact that it's nothing without the happiness she gave me. I accept it. That's why I free her shoulders and take a step backwards. Without the light she brings to my life, I might be nothing, but that still won't stop me from trying. Not by a long shot.

"He's dangerous, Elisa." Elisa. Elisa. Elisa. Elisa. Elisa. Elisa. Elisa. Thinking her name is wonderful, but it doesn't compare to the way it feels as if lighting strikes my body every time I say her name—that's a good thing. "Like I said, I'm dangerous. He won't back off from a fight."

I'm convinced that I haven't suffered nearly enough, but when Elisa smirks, I truly want the suffering to stop.

But should it ever? a voice in my head whispers, and it breaks me when I realise the answer is no.

"That's what I'm counting on."

A growl of mine sounds. "You can't be serious, Elisa." How can she not see clearly? Yeah sure, living with her parents is a dream—I know that—but what if it ends up with her dead? What if it ends up with a version of me killing her? How can she see through all that? "You're going to get yourself killed. You're talking about fighting . . ." I swallow, finding it hard to forget the possible outcomes out of my head. "me."

For a moment, Elisa stays quiet, and all the worries of her ending up dead disappear in thin air. They're gone.

"It won't be you." Shit. They're right back.

And suddenly I can't stop it. I won't even try harder to stop it. I laugh. It's full of anger, of course, but this is too ridiculous. "Of course it will be me."

"You won't have ever met me, and that you isn't you." It's clear how badly Elisa wants to convince herself of that reality, but the truth is hard. That reality is not real. "I'll be fighting an assassin just like any other." I want to scream. Open your eyes.

Another method it is.

"And you think he'll let you walk away after you defeat him—if you defeat him." Me. It's not him, but me. "He'll hunt you down. It's an assassin, Elisa." It's me. "You know that his hatred towards you won't fade away even a little before getting his revenge."

"Then . . ." Elisa trails of. Has she finally seen the light? Is she finally ready to face the hard truth?

No more words leave her lips.

"Then what?" I scrunch up my nose, hating the way she's fighting so hard. Maybe when she finally does open her eyes for the only outcome, it'll be too late. Then, as if lighting strikes me again—but this time in everything but a good way—I realize what she wanted to say, how she was going to end her sentence. She couldn't say the words. But I can. "You'll kill me? That's what you have to do, isn't it?"

No one really reacts to what I've said. No one is surprised. Of course they aren't. Only Elisa doesn't want to accept it. I'd expect her eyes to flicker to somewhere—everywhere that isn't me—but she continues staring. I don't allow myself to hope that she won't continue this ridiculous plan of hers. I know she needs to see her parents alive and well too much for that.

"You don't even dare to answer that question." I roll my eyes while scoffing. "You're too afraid to face reality. You will have to kill me, Elisa. Only then you'll be safe."

When Elisa lets out a shaky breath, I almost run straight at her. My hands squirm, wanting to entangle their fingers with hers. And God, I want that, too. Yet, I don't do what my body and my soul needs. I stay where I am and watch her proces it. Because that's what she has to do.

"I'll be your first intended kill." I add in a quiet voice, hoping to get through her, to make her see some sense.

Hearing those words, Elisa closes her eyes with a gasp. It takes every bit of my strength not to throw my arms around her. Slowly, Elisa plants the palm of her hand against the wall. I'm pretty sure if she doesn't, she'd collapse on the spot.

Then, suddenly, she takes off. She turns her back on all of us without a doubt. I can still hear her rapid breathing, and this time I allow myself to move.

I follow her.

Even when the door gets thrown right in my face, I open it again—quietly. When I'm through, Elisa has already gotten to the end of the hallway we're in. She takes a sharp turn, right in the room full of time capsules.

She hasn't changed her mind even a little. It didn't work. I didn't succeed. I failed. That thought makes my head hurt even more. Hell, everything hurts. But I don't care about that right now—not when everything is on the line right now. I can lose her. I can lose everything.

My feet drag me quicker than they have ever done before. I sprint through the hallway, but it still doesn't feel fast enough. She can be gone already. She won't doubt. The void will take me over. Everything will be darkness without the sun. The night won't ever turn to day. I won't ever get to see her again. My light. My sun. My everything. My Elisa.

"Stop!" When I spatial jump into the room, I see Elisa's hands hovering over the button. If she pushes it . . . it's all done. I'll be practically dead. I'll only have to wait until the void eats me whole. Until I disappear.

It's a good thing I used my ability or she'd be already out of here.

"You don't have to do this," I say as hot tears make my vision blurry. I hate them for it. These might be the last seconds I see her and I wish to see her clearly, to remember her well.

"I'm afraid I have to, Five," Elisa whispers.

A tear slips down my cheek. Other times, I'd hate myself for being so weak, but now, I just don't care.

"I'm not your enemy." The words come out pathetically quiet. I raise my hand, noticing that I'm shaking, to rub my forehead. But the headache doesn't disappear. It doesn't even lessen a tiny bit. "I don't want to be your enemy, Elisa. Don't make me." Please don't ever make me fight you again—even if it's another version of me.

Silence comes, and it grows longer and longer. I like the piece and quiet. Even though tears stream down my cheeks and everything is hazy, I can't get my eyes off her.

And when she comes closer, I swear I lose everything. Because that, her close to me, is all I need. And then I realize that I'd gladly die if it meant her getting her happy ending. I'd gladly lay down my life if it meant that she could see her parents grow old. If she'd be truly happy.

Elisa only stops when she's just inches from me. I do what I love to do: I press my forehead against hers. More tears come and go, and at first, Elisa doesn't seem to mind. Eventually, she reaches for one. She wipes it away with all the care in the world.

I'm not scared of giving up my life for her. I'd do it in a heartbeat if I knew that she'd be happy. But what if I forget? What is death? Will I be reborn? Will I remember her face wherever I go? Will I know how she changed me? Or will I forget her? Will she be nothing to me?

And that . . . that is what causes me to whisper, "Don't leave me, Elisa." It's more of a cry, really. "I need you." I pause then, wanting her to know the truest of my feelings before she leaves.

"I love you." No words said by me have ever been more true. I love her. "I love you, Elisa Brookle. I'm begging you not to leave me. Don't do this to me, please. I can't-"

"You don't love me," she says, and it feels as if an invisible blade goes straight through my heart. I've read quite a lot of half burned novels in the apocalypse, and I've read many deaths in fantasy novels; this hurt is exactly what they describe when someone gets stabbed in the heart. Her words being the blade.

"I do," I manage to get out. How can she not see that I've never been more honest in my life?

"You can't." She shakes a step backwards, and her hand leaves my cheek. I miss the contact already. She continues to shake her head as she turns around, reaching for the time capsule.

"We were always bound to be enemies. Destined. You can't  love me." She sounds so convinced, and yet, she's so very wrong. I crave her touch. Her prescence. Every part of her. Her smile. The twinkle in her eyes. "I can' love you. It was never possible." She turns so that we're facing again. "Look at us, Five. We're meant to kill each other! We're not lovers. We're . . ."

"Say it." My voice sounds hollow.

"Enemies." I'm not the only one; Elisa her voice is cold. "We're enemies."

Again, a silence creeps over us. But I don't allow it to spread. She can't leave in silence. Plus, I need to hear her to say the words in a convinced tone. This can't be real. She isn't serious. She's blinded. "You don't love me." My voice betrays my sadness by breaking.

"No."

Her quick answer makes me want to scream, and yet I keep myself calm when I say, "You hate me." I say it like a statement. But really, it's a question. And I'm begging her to change her mind. Begging her to give me another answer.

"I do."

"I don't understand . . ." I admit. I thought we loved each other.

"I'm raised by the handler, Five." Elisa says, shrugging, as if it is absolutely nothing. What if it was? Did she never love me? Did I imagine the way her eyes sparkled when she saw me? Did I imagine the way her body reacted to my very presence? "I'm raised to lie and to betray."

"I don't believe you."

"You should," Elisa says without any hesitation. "I hate you, Five Hargreeves," she says my name as if I'm the . . . enemy. "I only stayed with you because I had to. I never forgave you for what you for anything. For taking mor. For killing her. I decided I'd hurt you back."

"Hurt me back," I echo in a pathetic whisper. Pathetic, pathetic me. Then a sad, broken laugh of me sounds. I laugh shortly. It's all funny isn't it? The way she's able to break me with just a few words. The unbreakable assassin has been broken at last.

"By breaking you."

"I don't want to believe you."

"Do it, Five," she hisses, making me truly wonder if I have known Elisa after all. Was it all a lie? Was us a lie? "Face the truth! I hate you for everything you've done to me!" Stab stab stab. The blade keeps on pushing in, sliding out. It doesn't stop. The pain doesn't lessen. It only grows.

And still . . .

"Hate me for as long as you want," I whisper. "And then admit that you love me. Even if it's only for a second, admit that you love me."

Her answer kills me entirely. "I don't love you." The blade was nothing. This is the apocalypse all over. The lonelyness is left together with me. Destined.

Elisa pushes the button, and the blue light appears. It lights up the room. Normally, I would head for the machine, throw it out of her arms. I'd do everything to keep her here. But now, I'm standing here, frozen, as I glare at Elisa as she disappears through the familiar light. I watch as her eyes stay on me, too.

And then I remain. The pain remains together with me. And then, at last, the void eats me whole.