It was late by the time Five had managed to escape the clawing clutches of his siblings. Rain showered the streets and pelted against his figure, soaking him to the bone. It was a nice change from the suffocating, throat-drying draught that he had grown so used to in the apocalypse; he didn't think he'd miss something as simple as rain, nor as much as he truly did. He paused in the middle of the empty carpark, head tilted back and closed his eyes as he just enjoyed the feeling of the rain beating against his face.
And then he was off again, Blinking through the front door of the Gimble Brothers Thrift Store with practised ease. For a moment Five worried that he might've tripped some sort of burglary alarm, but that was quickly shrugged off as no sirens serenaded his arrival. Instead, he simply strode through the rows of aisles and picked up various articles as he went. The outfit he ended up with was more an amalgamation of things; things that would be better suited to the apocalypse than present day, but it would have to do.
Keeping on both his school shirt and the polka-dotted sweater that he'd borrowed from his sister/nephew, the time traveller then exchanged his schoolboy shorts for a pair of denim overalls with more than enough pockets than he knew what to do with. His useless loafers were quickly shoved aside for a pair of hiking boots which had seen better days and were slightly too big; but were made to fit with an extra pair of thick socks rolled over his current ones. And after much indecision, Five finally shrugged on a rather crumpled overcoat overtop of the whole thing. Checking himself over, Five knew now that he really did look like the child he appeared to be, but least it was far more practical than the ensemble he had been wearing before.
Shoving his old clothes back onto the hangers (after making sure that he'd taken everything out of the pockets) and back onto the racks, Five then began to make his way down the aisles to the centre where he knew she would be waiting. Unlike last time, his beloved would be whole this around. Whole, shiny and new; undamaged by the throes of hardship & strife. It was dim in the thrift store (the open plan lit by only a few overhead lights and the torch that Five had picked up on the way through), but she was still as beautiful as the last day he saw her. Porcelain skin shined brightly beneath the dim lighting, waves of auburn hair flowed like a waterfall down her crown and over her shoulders, and eyes of stormy grey gleamed with an intelligence that he had not seen in a long time. Dolores, his one and only.
"…Dolores" Five sighed, his tone full of love and contentment even as he choked up in an effort not to cry, (to cry was a weakness, and weakness was not tolerated in the Hargreeves household). Although, he had to smile at the fact that they were both wearing polka-dotted tops. "It's good to see you. I—I've missed you…obviously. Well, I—it's been a…rough couple of days. But we know all about those, don't we dear…?"
RATTA~TATTA~TAT! RATTA~TATTA~TAT! RATTA~TATTA~TAT!
"NO!" Five wailed as he dropped the torch in his surprise and gunfire suddenly lit up the store. Bullets flew everywhere; some embedding themselves into the softer edges of the items around them whilst the harder surface just made them ricocheted off into other directions. Either way, Five found himself ducking out of the way as Dolores stood tall in front of him, placing herself between him and the gunman in an attempt to protect him. Five could only watch with worried eyes as Dolores was forced to bow at the waist, tumbling from her stand as she lost an arm and the bullets continued to pierce straight through her once unblemished porcelain skin
Peering around the edge of the rack that he'd hidden behind, he caught sight of his attackers and what he saw made his mouth turn dry. Flash~Bang!. Pink puppy mask. Flash~Bang!. Blue bear mask. Flash~Bang! Twin suits of the two-piece variety. Flash~Bang! Twin rifles pointed in his direction. Flash~Bang! "Oh shit! It's them!" Five swore, eyes widening at the sight of his adversaries. He may have been the best of the best, but that still meant that there were others in the same field as him; ones who were riding close to his coattails, ones like these two. Hazel and Cha-Cha, a duo not to be messed with. The Temps Commission must've been wringing their hands if they had sent these two after him. This shit just got a WHOLE lot harder!
Sucking in a deep breath, the time traveller gathered his courage before he ducked out from behind the rack of clothes and dove for the fallen form of Dolores. He sheltered for a moment behind the still standing figures of her sisters, before he was able to latch onto the closest outstretched limb and hurry back in to the safety of the clothes racks. "I'll be right back for you" Five promised, holding Dolores close for a moment before he was off and running, making sure to keep low to the ground as he went in search of some sort of weapon.
RATTA~TATTA~TAT! RATTA~TATTA~TAT! RATTA~TATTA~TAT!
Bullets dogged at his heels, the light from the firearms doing little to guide his way as the rapid sounds of the trigger being pulled pounded in his ears. Blood rushed in tune with the familiar feeling of adrenaline and Five found himself almost revelling in the feeling; that is if he wasn't so terrified that something was going to happen to Dolores if he didn't take care of these two. Blinking out of the way of said projectiles—a few of them grazing by his face—Five moved around the store with a clear goal in mind.
"You see that?" Cha-Cha called, blinking dumbly at where Number Five had stood only seconds before.
"You said he was special" Hazel replied, pausing in his rampage for a moment to reply to his partner. "So now what?"
"You start over there" Cha-Cha pointed towards the other end of the store. "I'll go to the other end, and we'll meet in the middle. Shoot anything that moves"
"Right"
Plucking a small hand trowel from the gardening stand in the back, Five swung it back & forth a few times, checking for both dexterity & weight before he was off again. It would have to do. Blinking behind Cha-Cha, Five immediately took a swipe for the small junction between mask and collar bone; that small but vital spot, where, if cut, would inflict the most damage. The jugular, after all, was one of the body's most vital points.
The canine assassin dropped to her knees as her legs buckled beneath her, a hand coming up to staunch the blood flow as Hazel spun on his heel and fired on Five. Blinking out of there at the first sound of gunfire, Five moved to weave back through the clothes racks, both in the hopes to loose/confuse his pursuers and to retrieve Dolores where he had left her. Snatching up a wayward duffle bag as he went, Five ducked & dived around corners and through the racks until he eventually slid to a stop next to the fallen figure of his wife. "I told you, I'd be back for you" Five smiled as he dumped the bag down onto the floor next to her and then moved to ever-so-gently shove her inside. "There you go. It's okay, we'll get out of this. We always do"
Hefting the bag over his shoulder, Five then scrambled to his feet once more and dove back into the numerous clothes racks. Ducking & dodging through the aisles, the time traveller found himself reminiscing on the Temps' training exercises and how he'd always thought that the ones at the Umbrella Academy were so much more scarring. Of course, the Temps Commission was also focused on artificial bodily enhancements; breaking you down and building you up from the inside out. He couldn't quite recall how many times he'd been spliced open beneath the knife of the Temps' doctors just to be stitched back together again, he only knew that it was a horrific amount.
"Aaarrrgggh!" Five groaned as he was forced to skid to a stop between a rack of denim and a rack of blouses. It seemed that he had reached his limit of teleportations for the day. Inwardly, he cursed his inability to be frugal with his jumps. "Shit! C'me on! C'me on!"
"Get 'im!" Cha-Cha cried as Five decided that hopping the barricade surrounding the cashiers would be a good idea. More gunfire lit up the store as he jumped upon the shelf and then, straddling the candy wall, flopped down into the alcove beyond.
As he sat huddled in the shadows of the check-out, his body tense and slick with sweat as he clutched the bag containing most of his wife, close to him, he could hear the sound of footsteps that sounded like thunder in his ears. Five wasn't one to usually give up, but the odds seemed hopeless and his chances dashed; Lady Luck could only help him for so long before she demanded something in return. "Bastard jumped again" Hazel grumbled, pocketing the orthopaedic bracelet that he'd found.
"C'me on" Cha-Cha replied in kind as she led the way back out of the store, "Let's just go"
Mercifully however, just as he thought he was going to be caught, the sound of police sirens lit up the night. Apparently he had tripped some sort of alarm—a silent one—upon entering, or perhaps (the more likely story) the sound of the rapid gunfire had alerted some passerby who had then called the cops. Either way, he was thankful for the distraction because it afforded him the opportunity to force out one more harried teleport, this time landing in the alley behind the thrift store where he collapsed and succumbed to the darkness that dotted his vision.
Later, after Five had blinked back into consciousness and struggled to his feet, he returned to the academy where his bed and proper food lay waiting. He had been hoping that it was late enough that he could just slip inside and no one would any the wiser; of course, his siblings just had to throw a spanner in the works.
"…Five?" Allison paused as she and Luther rounded the top of the stairs. "What the hell happened to you?"
"…Are you okay?" Luther asked as his gaze roved over Five's tried and dishevelled form. Taking in the rumpled shirt, the change of clothes, the new bag over his shoulder and the sweat-slicked hair which stuck to his face. "Can we help—?"
"—There's nothing you can do" Five interjected, his hand snapping up to stop his brother's approach as a far off look entered his eyes. He could still remember that day, the day he had found his family lying barren and deceased amongst the rubble of the world. How their eyes had seemed so glossy, how much older they had been, the gore-covered eye which had been grasped tightly in Luther's hand and the worn umbrella tattoos impressed upon each of their wrists. "There's nothing any of you can do"
Sliding passed the pair, Five shuffled up to his bedroom and made sure to lock the door behind him, because he knew from experience that Luther—big, sensitive Luther—was not one to leave such an (emotional) situation alone; he wasn't particularly known for letting sleeping dogs lie. With a heavy sigh, Five toed off his new (old) boots and pulled Dolores from the bag, before he dumped himself on top of his old bed. The springs creaked to life as they lay down together, not bothering to snuggle beneath the covers; curiously the bed was dust-free and the sheets seemed to have been recently changed because he was sure that these were not the ones he had left behind all those years ago (not that one might remember such an inconsequential detail when others were so much more important).
Pressing his face into his wife's shoulder, Five inhaled the scent of sweet-smelling perfume mixed with the tang of blood splatter & sweat from his hands and the smoke of gunpowder which had littered the thrift store. He sounded almost defeated when he sighed into her shoulder.
"What are we going to do now, Dolores?"