The warmth coming from light sun rays woke Five. He slowly eased into consciousness and noted his body felt sore, but utterly comfortable. He was resting over something very soft and something else was keeping him in a hearty cocoon. He was on the verge of dozing off again, when he felt alarmed at his current state of tranquility and commodity.

It was not normal.

Something had to be wrong.

Five sat up brusquely, his heart hammering in his ribcage as he tried to let his green eyes adjust to the bright room. He felt strong hands hold him by his shoulders trying to get him to lay down again, and he caught the glint of a golden monocle.

At the sight of the small object, he was ten years old all over again. A rushing feeling of helplessness permeated over him. Five hadn't seen his father in over four decades, and he didn't feel he was any closer to being ready to face him even if time granted him another four decades.

"Calm down, young man." The Monocle´s voice was stern, commanding, but above all, eerily familiar.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Five seethed pushing the older man from him, proving that he was still physically strong. He got on his feet, and grabbed the first thing that could serve him as a weapon, which happened to be the oil lamp next to his bed.

"How are you here? " he asked, almost blind by scalding white fear and rage, his green eyes batting quickly as he made an effort to focus on the lean elegant figure with the monocle. Liquid warmth drenched his right hand, unaware he had cut himself by holding the lamp so tightly between his fingers. .

His father remained composed in his stance. Silent. Observing. With a look in his face that silently suggested that he, Five, was the embodiment of a crazed man.

"ANSWER ME OLD MAN! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" He demanded, his voice taking a deeper tone due to his urgency at getting some sort of explanation over the bizarre encounter, with a man he thought he would never have to see again. The only redeemable consequence of him getting lost in time when he was thirteen.

"Mr. Five?"

The softness of the feminine voice pierced through his panic, forcing him to acknowledge the nurse's presence. Dark eyes were staring at him with apprehension .

Five felt small scared hands reach for him, and tug gently at his claw hold on the lamp, so he would ease his grip over it and release the broken shards of glass that had dug into his palm.

He allowed her touch, even if suspicion was creeping on him. His ragged breathing eased, as his lungs regained their normal work of bringing enough air into his lungs and found his way back into his bed under her guidance. She took his hand and laid it gently over her lap, to begin taking care of his self-caused injury.

The Monocle's eyes twinkled with peaked curiosity at the sight unfolding before him. He took a brown leather journal from the pocket of his suit jacket. Five was almost sure he heard him mumble something that sounded as "Interesting. '' below his styled mustache and saw him write down something in quick but perfect strokes with his fountain pen.

Five scoffed, feeling he was again part of one of Reginald Hargreeves's mysterious experiments. The only difference being that instead of being alone, Josefa was still holding his hand in a way that felt more intimate than only for procuring healing to his hand. He wasn't sure how to feel about Josefa trying to reassure him.

He didn't need any comforting.

He had handled himself just fine for decades and he had faced his father even as a child. He could do it all, all over again without relying on her.

"I believe you can handle this by yourself Josephine. It should be among your capabilities. Call one of the others if he becomes aggressive again. I'll be in my office. Don't let anyone disturb me unless it's an emergency. " the Monocle ordered , with a French accent that had not been there when he addressed Five before.

With reserve , he watched his father retire through a door he hadn't paid any attention to last night. Five heard the unmistakable 'Ding!' of an elevator, as the doors closed behind the old man.

Silence engulfed them once more, now that the unnatural presence of Reginald Hargreeves left them. Five became aware of the little stings on his palm caused every time Josefa used the tweezers to get rid of a tiny piece of glass.

Five eyed her carefully. She was visibly shaken and scared and even if he searched for her eyes, she wouldn't meet his gaze. He had seen her quiver like this before The Handler, and now she was just as shaken up by his father

'Dad didn't scare her. She's afraid of you.' a voice whispered in his mind.

Five tried to meet her dark eyes again, but Josefa wouldn't meet his own emeralds. It made the question of how she knew his father resurface in his mind, and this time the conjecture didn't fade away as before.

He quickly grew suspicious of her and began to feel burning embarrassment for having been fooled over so easily at the smallest show of kindness from a stranger. He had been so desperate for some human contact, that he had let his guard down last night with her.

Tired of her avoiding his gaze, Five shoved a fist over the surface of the auxiliary table that had held his dinner last night, and made it rattle.

The transgression was enough to make Josefa finally meet his eyes, with a bewildered look.

"Now you dare to see me" he accused.

Guilt plastered over her face, and for him, that was enough of a confession as he would get.

Five abruptly retrieved his hand from her. He didn't want to have her touch him any longer even if Josefa had only been holding it gently and pressing a clean linen to stop the bleeding after.

"Mr. Five if you would… let me" she stumbled over her words just as she had done upon meeting him, as she tried to get hold of his hand once again.

"No Josefa, I don't want you touching me any longer" he spat angry.

Brown eyes looked at him with hurt.

Five ignored them.

" How do you know my father? Did he pay you to…" His voice faltered at the idea that her kindness the night before had been all but an act designed by his father to get him to have his guard down and strike. "Did he pay you to be nice to me? " .

"I…" Josefa felt her mind go blank under the accusations and shouting from Five. She had always faltered under this kind of pressure and now was not the exception.

"ANSWER ME!" he demanded, his eyes bulging off his orbs due to the anger and betrayal he was feeling. "HOW DO YOU KNOW MY DAD?"

"I don't… he… "Josefa felt burning tears prickle her eyes.

"DON'T YOU DARE LIE TO ME " he warned leaning into her.

"I think that is enough Monsieur. " a husky voice that belonged to a young French man in his mid thirties brought Five's attention to the entrance double doors. The interruption snapped him back enough to make him see he was now holding Josefa by her shoulders and she was terrified.

He quickly let go of her as guilt began to sweep over him like poison. "Josefa… " Five tried to bring himself to apologize but words evaded him.

Henri Moreau had just arrived at his place of work, but had heard and seen enough to get a grasp of the situation. He walked over, placing himself between Five and Josefa, disregarding for the time being the older man, as his hand cupped her crying face and cleaned with his thumb her tears away.

Henri hated to see her cry. He was tired of men and women alike taking advantage of her soft nature and apparent weaker character. She was weak because she cried easily? What did they really know of her anyways to make that judgment?

"I do know h-him, b-but not as… not as you're implying Mr. Five " her words seemed to gain strength now her teacher was there and kept a hand over her shoulder. "M-Mosieur Hervieux is… is the hospital's director. He…he oversees everything, b-but he's barely around. I've met him just a couple of times. I didn't knew you were his son or that he had a f-family… and he didn't payed me either to treat you in any way, you must believe me Mr. Five"

Now it was Five, who couldn't meet her gaze as her eyes implored him to believe her. It did throw him off the fact she used a different name to refer to his father, but he had no doubt the man he had seen earlier was Reginald Hargreeves.

At his silence, Henri looked down at his protégé, still holding tightly to his side. "Go wash your face mon chou, and go have some rest." Henri said deciding it was best to get her out of there.

'little cabbage' Five's mind quickly translated the term of endearment, and the gnawing feeling eating at his insides just became worse.

"But…" her dark brown eyes were on him once more and now he could see worry for him in them.

He must truly be the biggest of idiots, for in under twenty four hours back into civilization he had made the kindest little lady he had met cry and become scared of him. And somehow she still felt worry for him?

"I believe a few cuts won't be of any trouble for me, mon chou. Go, it's okay, " he said, giving her a little pat in the back to get her going.

Henri waited for her to be completely out of hearing distance to turn to look at Five.

"You're lucky I know enough of where you come from, to know you've just come back from hell. I understand being around other people after so long is probably enough to have you on edge as it is, but I'm warning you Monsieur Hargreeves, next time you make her cry I won't be this understanding or this patient. " Henri eyed him defiantly to what Five scoffed, not liking the implied threat even if he did understand he deserved it.

"I hope you do realize you're wrong about her, or you'd be a bigger of an idiot than I already believe you to be. If you are Hervieux's son and there's any bad blood between you, keep her out of it. She told you the truth.

Do you doubt her kindness? That's funny, as I'm sure you were so quick to yell at her, as you were sure she wouldn't yell back or even attempt to stop you. You counted with her cowering before you."

"That's no-"

"Not true? You can believe that if it will make you feel better Monsieur Hargreaves. "

Five decided he hated this man and could feel irritation fume from him, even if he couldn't exactly contradict what he was saying. Deep down he had known she wouldn't strike back in any way and that turned the Frenchman's words into small stabs of truth .

"If it relied fully on me I would let you bleed to death, but I promised mon chou I would take care of it, so let me take a look at your hand, " Even sitting down to patch him up, Henri was much taller than Five. He didn't like that either.

Five knew he had fucked up, but he owned his apology to Josefa, not to this man who was scolding him as a child, when he was at least some twenty years his senior. He didn't mind having his hand be left like that. He had faced much worse untreated injuries in the apocalypse. What did this man want? For him to beg? Who was the crazy man now?

"I don't need you to tend my wound. I'm all right. But didn't you take the Hippocratic oath that forces you to treat anyone that might need your help? " Five wanted to make this as uncomfortable to the doctor as he was. He sure was very comfortable berating him, acting all might and mighty, when he was quick to go against one of the doctor's main principles.

"I did. But even the gods are known to act upon their own feelings leaving duty aside. "Henri reached for the supplies Josefa left behind to finish her job.

Five wondered what kind of promise bound this man to Josefa. He didn't take it well when the doctor took his hand forcefully.

"I said it's fine! I don't need your help!"

"Unless you want to give mon chou more trouble, leaving her the job to tend to the infections you'll get from it, you'll keep your hand still."

Five yielded his hand with irritation. 'Mon chou, mon chou' Five mimicked the Frenchman with ridicule in his head. He hated the fact he wouldn't stop calling Josefa that. She had a round face, it was true, but he wouldn't call her a cabbage at all.

Five was also sure this man was pouring alcohol so freely over his hand on purpose. It made his hand burn, but he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing him flinch.

"You know my name and where I come from. But I don't know anything about you, little rascal"

Henri chuckled over the attempt to insult him by being called an undermining term used more for a teenager or even a kid " I appreciate you consider me that young. I'm Henri Moreau. " he said undisturbed.

When Josefa had told him about a Monsieur Moreau that took her as his protégé and taught her medicine, Five had imagined someone more around his own age, not the young man in his prime before him.

"What? Suddenly your age is more of a problem than an upper hand? " Henri finished wrapping his hand in bandages. Five found it unnerving and bothersome how this Moreau could see right through him.

"If you want my advice, old man, start thinking how you'll apologize. Mon chou is all the nice you want, but she sure knows how to hold a grudge."

In years to come Five would find Henri's words to be accurate, and his advice to be sound.

His wife indeed was a woman to hold grudges and insecurities for all eternity when she felt wronged.