Five Hargreeves x f!reader
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Warning: Contains: fighting, blood, the usual swearing
Date: REDACTED, 1955
Location: TEMPS COMMISSION HQ
Time: REDACTED
Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.
The shattering of glass rattled the Commissions first floor and everyone nearby. I reached for anything closest to me, in this case a stapler, and threw it with a great force through a large glass barrier dividing a few analysts and their seniors.
I dragged the back of my hand across the gash cut along my cheek bone and winced slightly after discovering yet again another bruise.
My tongue throbbed slightly, trying to distract my mind from formulating a well-planned murder that involved two people. A blonde with no wish other than to make my life a living hell, and- I couldn’t even finish the thought as it seemed so ridiculous in the first place. Not my plan that’d bring me nothing but glee, but the fact that I had to deal with this asshole in the first place.
I scoffed as blood slowly pooled into my mouth, the rich metallic taste forcing the corners of mouth to twist upwards in rage, forming a smile which didn't reach my eyes.
I took my gun out of my pocket and sighed inwardly, quickly remembering I was out of bullets. But that was fine. It wasn’t like a certain Handlers office was a fully loaded arsenal.
Plenty of weapons to use in there.
With every step I took, a group of eyes would avert my way, whispers of gossip accompanying their intrusive stares as they layed their eyes on my bruised, battered, and bloodied body.
Envy of my past reputation overtook my mind and any ounce of self-respect I once had left was long gone. Before, those pathetic workers didn't dare lay their eyes on me for too long in fear of my reputation and I was able to slip under the radar unnoticed and undisturbed. But it seemed that my previous engagement had circulated around the headquarters faster than I could've disposed of the evidence.
Finally reaching her office, I slammed my bruised fists against her door, repeatedly, trying to keep myself from wrenching the door out of its place and grabbing her by the neck. I slammed my fists once more until the door was pulled open, my eyes meeting the woman’s stare that was clearly trying to hide her irritation. Whether it was the fact that I was alive or that I had interrupted her beauty sleep, I would never know.
“Oh, It's you.” She looked me up and down, forcing a smile onto her red coated lips. “Come in. Or are you unable to control yourself with so many weapons present? It’ll be a shame to cut our deal short.”
“If I didn’t have any self control you would’ve been six feet under from the very moment I met you.”
The woman chuckled bitterly, her eyes drifting to the crowd now roaming behind us, waiting eagerly for her response.
“Why don’t we take this to my office. I’ve got a jar of candy calling your name.”
I followed her in, The Handlers white glossy heels clacking audibly before taking a seat behind her desk.
“You’ve got something on your teeth.” She spoke, watching her nails momentarily after inspecting my dishevelled figure. “Blood, to be precise.” With a manicured hand, she pushed a crystal vase that held mountains of hard candies towards me.
"I'm hoping you're here to tell me how..." The woman's lips faltered into a smirk as she tried to keep her expression neutral. "successful you're assignment went."
“How successful my assignment went...” Exasperation was clear in my voice.
"Yes, I suspect that everything went according to plan."
My teeth clenched as I seethed, "So being on the receiving end of an assassination order from one of your henchmen was part of my fucking mission?"
“Whatever do you mean? I helped you. Put one of the Commissions best assassins by your side.” The Handler leaned back, brushing invisible lint off of her 80’s styles dress. Her electric blue eyes narrowed as an annoyed smile pulled slightly at the tips of her mouth. She watched as I menacingly leaned in and planted my hands firmly onto her desk.
I dragged my tongue along the red staining the white of my teeth. “Now tell me,” A mocking smile adorned my lips. “why the fuck did you send one of your puppets to kill me?”
— ONE HOUR AGO -
Date: 2nd of April, 2002
Location: Unknown Location, England
Time: 23:55
I tied the cord around his plump neck, watching him squirm and gasp to get as much air as he could into his lungs, his blue veins bulging against the papery white of his skin. The moment the newly lifeless body dropped onto the filthy carpeted floor joining the 5 others, I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and sighed.
Here they were. The main members of the Lionheart Mob.
I looked around the damp living room, signs of break in and fighting evident in the knocked over and broken furniture, and blood splattered along the walls and already dirty carpet. My nose scrunched automatically at the stench.
I picked up my weapons and slid them back into my pockets, letting my eyes wonder around the crime scene once more after wiping down and ridding any evidence for the police to use from the house, except from one particular strand of hair.
I had instructions to leave the bodies as they are to let the police find them. Two of them had died from strangulation, three from blood loss from stab wounds to the kidney, and the other dying from blunt force trauma to the back of the head.
I, on the other hand, suffered no injury of any sorts. Some may say silently bragging to the dead would bring one horrible misfortune and fate. Not that it would stop me.
With light movements, I exited the house and closed the door gently behind me, finally being able to breathe in the fresh country air.
The sky had darkened from a soft navy blue to near black, the only source of light being the distant gleams of stars and the half crescent moon hanging idly in the sky. I covered my head with the hood of my jacket and proceeded to walk down the street that dipped downhill, stuffing my hands into my pockets to hide the blood splattered over my palm and under my nails.
For a while, my near silent footsteps were all that could be heard in the midst of the abandoned countryside of England, apart from the occasional drunken screams and wails. But no matter how peaceful the country posed itself to be, the eerie feeling that someone or something was watching me never faltered once.
The blade of my dagger was placed strategically under my jacket, and my gun strapped against my side. Funny how even my most useful and deadliest asset came nowhere close to the sturdiness and swiftness of my weapons.
‘So you think a few rusty pieces of metal compares to the abilities of a God?’
My body jumped at the sudden deep vibrations rattling at the back of my skull.
“Then you shouldn't be surprised that a human like me can't control a God like yourself.” I retorted, my words dripping in sarcasm. "At least I have control over those 'rusty pieces of metal'."
No matter how satisfying it felt to snap back, I immediately regretted my decision as millions of laughs, each barely above a whisper, echoed off of the walls of my skull.
It felt like millions of needles being stabbed into my brain repeatedly.
‘What makes you think you don't have control?’
I kissed my teeth and tried to distract that little part of me that wanted to reply and engage with its forbidden words. I could hear the amusement in its question. "Everything", Was what I wanted to say. But I kept my mouth shut and looked ahead.
I didn’t reply but pondered quietly. I had never been religious. My mother had always believed in a higher power. Whether it was the all-powerful being we call God, or many more of His names, or something different all together. Nevertheless, she believed. Something I just couldn’t find myself doing.
The only person I could have faith in was myself. A proportionate fate for someone like me.
It could tell I was deep in thought, my mind wavering from one conclusion to another, oblivious to the threat mere metres away from me. Usually, the voices would warn me when something strange was afoot or of any potential dangers. But it wanted to wait. To see how long I could go without the assistance I had gotten used to having my whole life.
Just like my thoughts, I couldn’t keep my eyes fixed on one place for too long. Every moment my gaze was fixed on something new as if expecting something to jump out from the shadows and swallow me whole.
Finally my suspicions were confirmed once my gaze ended its useless wavering and locked onto another a pair of eyes. My mind immediately flashed back to my case file of known associates of the Lionheart Mob.
The man I was ordered to frame.
The man and I kept eye-contact longer than intended, thoughts of fight or flight running through each of our minds.
There was nothing I could do or say to prevent this from becoming a tiring chase through the isolated region of the country, so I decided on the next best option.
Before the target could give into his flight response, I removed my gun from its once strapped position and began to shoot, a bullet just grazing his cheek before he could make a run for it.
My legs had a mind of their own, sprinting towards the target the moment he ran with my arm stretched in front of me, gun in hand. I took a shot, then another, then another, each missing as the man swerved with the endless streets branching off of the main road.
I was quickly out of bullets.
For every step I took forcing me further into the chase, the feeling of danger deep in the pit of my stomach only grew. My breathing began to deepen as drops of sweat slowly pooled down the side of my head, only to be dried by the ruthless wind whipping against my face.
I watched as he jumped over a fence, and I quickly followed, a grin curving on my lips once a large gate came into view. The man was rather short, so it should take him a few seconds extra than normal to cross the barrier. More than enough time for me close the gap between us.
I grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him harshly towards the ground, smirking as his sliced cheek broke his fall. I threw my foot back and slammed it against his ribs. He released a pained groan and I kicked him again, and again, and again.
“A well deserved punishment for someone making me run for so long, don’t you think?”
The man began to cough violently after another strike to his ribs, blood splattering onto the ground with every cough.
“Seems like I’ve broken several ribs.” I kneeled beside him. “They’ve punctured your lungs. Soon you'll start to drown in your own blood, and well... die.”
“I can help you. Relieve you from your pain if you tell me how you knew I’d be here.” The man watched me cautiously, flinching as I held the back of his head, gripping his hair tightly. “All I need is a name.”
The man swallowed thickly and averted his eyes from one side and back. “It…” He opened his mouth, hesitation clear. I dug my nails into the flesh of his skull, breaking through the layers of skin.
He winced as tears threatened to spill from his eyes.
His eyes shifted to the side.
I spun my head around the direction the bullet was shot, only to be blinded by a flash of blue and a foot being swung at my face. I barely had any time to react, but was able to evade just in time.
I fell on my back and quickly leapt onto my feet waiting to be greeted by another attack which never came. I furrowed my brows and my forehead creased, letting my eyes scour the area only to come up empty handed with a mutilated corpse right beside me.
The common feeling of blood had drenched my palms in an instant once the bullet was shot through the side of his skull. My brain hadn't fully registered the moments part of his ear were blown off, making way for the bullet to exit his body. I peered down at his mutilated head, the only emotion consuming my body being annoyance and hatred for the man.
This situation, right now, right here, was supposed to be impossible. This mission was crucial to the deal. It was the only chance I had left. Without it, I was back to being The Handlers little bloodhound on a leash, ready to execute all orders with no hesitation. Back to being a creature of sin that couldn't possibly stray any further from God.
In the midst of my endless train of thought was when I saw it. The dim light from a lamppost hit against a small piece of metal a few metres away from me. I approached the bullet, taking it into my hands and held the bloodied object towards the light.
My lips parted as my gaze met a familiar imprint. "You've got to be kidding me..."
The words left my lips in a hurried whisper while I inspected the awfully familiar crest imprinted on the reddened copper. There it was, clear as day like the thousands of alter-egos that bitch of a Handler was housing.
My lips pressed into a sneer. I dug my canines into my tongue to stop myself from saying three specific words that would end this fucked-up situation I've been living my whole life. Three simple commands and the beasts I've been housing for a lifetime would shred The Handler into pieces.
'What are you waiting for, bloodhound? Her permission? Just end it all.'
No matter how much my mind craves to see The Handler kneeled before me and begging for her life, I couldn't do that to him. I had to remind myself that I was doing this for him. Not for my own selfish gain.
I took a deep breath in attempt to reel in my thoughts.
My fingers travelled through the knotted mess of my hair. I couldn't help but scoff. "Of course it was a fucking set up."
"So then you know what happens next." A voice spoke behind me, followed by a cock of a gun.
I didn't bother turning back to meet the hard stare of my attacker, but proceeded to watch the crest deeply, as if trying to fool myself into thinking I was dreaming. But the stench of the corpse, and the rush of the wind yanking me back to reality said otherwise.
I threw the bullet to the side and wiped the blood on my hands against my sides.
"No, I don't know actually." I slowly turned around on my heels to face the man, confronting his hard glare with my own uncaring one. I cocked my head to the side, challengingly. "Why don't you remind me?"
I felt a rush of adrenaline sore through my veins as the whispers began to get louder..
The click of his tongue rang through the alleyway. The man scoffed in agitation.
"Gladly," He began, slimming his deep green eyes, and watched my reaction once the distance between his finger and the trigger narrowed.
A familiar source of power devoured my body. The shadows that stretched against the concrete and towering brick walls shifted manically, dancing in celebration to be alive once more.
My hazed stare flickered from one thing to another as I relished in the tingling sensation burning through me.
"Any last words?" He called, as if taunting me.
I snapped my head up and focussed my eyes on the target, then at the collection of abandoned buildings a good distance away.
"I think I should be asking you the same thing." My body moved on autopilot, my mind too preoccupied on the sensation burning through my veins. I was now a few measured steps closer to the assassin. "So tell me, then,"
The hardened gaze that I kept sternly focussed on the male hadn't faltered once, opposing the restlessness and unease of the shadows "any last words?"
My wrist snapped upwards before I could properly register what I was about to do. The shadows beneath the mans feet rose around him and the world seemed to stop spinning.
My eyes were pulled wide while I watched in anticipation. The shadows merged into hands as they rose from the depths of the darkness and latched themselves onto the agent, covering his body faster than I could blink. I stepped forwards, pulling my arms back before pushing them in-front of me. The shadows followed suit, launching the man they held captive into the buildings nearby.
Dust and rubble exploded from the collision, along with splatters of blood on the loose debris.
I licked my lips and sighed glad to have squished another pest crawling around in my way.
I picked up the gun he had dropped and walked towards the collapsed building, releasing the bullets on top of the bloody debris while strolling to the agents 'burial site' as I doubted he would be anywhere but smashed under the concrete.
"Rest in pieces, asshole."
I took in several deep breaths to level the adrenaline I felt myself drown in. I couldn’t lose control. No matter how much I itched to dive deeper into the ins and outs of my abilities like I did years ago, it was too risky.
It was too soon. But it wasn’t too soon to kill The Handler as I did to her puppet. I turned around, the taste of freedom fresh of my tongue and my guard lowered.
A hand slammed into my shoulder blade from behind to stop me from moving any further.
"Now, where do you think you're going..." A raspy voice spat behind me. "...bloodhound?"
I twisted my neck to the side just enough for my peripheral vision to catch the large pair of green eyes bearing into mine. Blood dripped from a large gash on his forehead, painting his whole face a deep crimson. His laboured breaths hit the back of my nape making my hairs stand.
"What do you propose we do then," I licked my lips. "number five."
His grip on my shoulder tightened, and I could practically feel the rage radiating off of him through the wide smirk etched across his lips. My body began to respond to the adrenaline pulsing through my veins as the corners of my mouth and fingers twitched in anticipation for another fight. Another excuse to use my powers. The only thing I wanted to do right now, right this second, was-
A flash of blue light engulfed the area, blinding me for a moment before I was able to notice the large piece of concrete being launched towards me, held tightly in his cut hands.
I shifted out of the way, relishing in my increased reaction time, and span on my heel, sending a spinning hook kick to the back of his head. I made contact but it was short lived with his fist suddenly in front of my face and punched my jaw forcing my head to snap to the side, small pools of blood building up in my mouth.
Before his knuckles could leave my face, I latched my hands onto the assassins arm, spinning on my heels so my back faced him and threw his body over mine, slamming him onto the ground. I reached for my knife and towered over the boy, ready to plunge it into his heart, but in a blink he was gone and behind me, holding a long metal pipe and smashed my head in. I stumbled forwards but quickly regained balance before he could repeat his action.
The agent was now in front of me and aimed the pipe to strike the side of my head. But I was faster.
I blocked the pipe with my lower arm and palm-striked the assassin in the nose simultaneously, preparing an elbow to his face only for him to disappear into the air leaving me to bathe in frustration once more.
Blue then caught my eye in the distance. I rapidly slammed my palms onto the earth beneath me, raising an arsenal of shadows and launching them towards the light, smirking with the thoight I had dealt serious damage and possibly killed him.
But a hand latched onto the back of my collar and I knew I had fallen for a trap. Suddenly, a gut-wrenching feeling flooded my senses and my head was being smashed into something hard. Calloused palms were wrapped around my neck as Five prepared to jump again after slamming my head into a wall as many times as he could.
"You won't escape them." Was all I said before the mans grip was torn off of me from the missiles of shadows following his silhouette and launched him into the distance.
I got up, flexed my jaw and sneered at the sight of the man still standing, covered head to toe in blood, bruises and cuts. I could tell he was tired. His shoulders were slumped and head tilted downwards. His Adams apple bounced as he swallowed thickly and took in several deep breaths.
Number Five finally looked up, and I had never been more excited in killing someone than I had now.
I raised my arm and slashed it through the air, sending a rapid wave of darkness slicing towards him, allowing myself to succumb deeper into the web of voices echoing off of my skull, each of my strikes increasing in power and precision for every time he'd teleport out of the way and into a wave of new danger.
Tired of the constant game of cat and mouse, Five blinked above me, carrying yet again another large piece of rubble and released it. I sent another cut through the air for the shadows to follow, shattering the rubble into pieces.
A gasp left my lips as another gut-wrenching sensation overtook me while a pair of hands grabbed my ankles tightly. My eyes widened and jaw dropped in a mixture of shock and confusion as I felt myself being dangled upside down and mid-air from the roof of a building that was over ten stories high. I tore my eyes away from the daunting scene several hundred metres below me and snapped my head up to see the man dangling me by my ankles.
The first thing I noticed was the slyness coating his eyes as he knew he had the upper hand- literally.
"I'll ask you one more time," Five spoke calmly, trying to contain the anger desperately trying to rip through his throat. The grip on my ankles faltered slightly but tightened just as fast. "Any last words?"
"Yeah," I breathed out in a ragged breath as a plan slowly began to form in my mind. I pulled myself up as much as I could towards the man and seethed between bloodied gritted teeth, "Suck my d--"
The man released his hold before I could finish with a disgusted expression as if he had just killed a bug, sending me plummeting towards the ground.
I raised my hands beside my body as I approached closer to my demise and quickly raised an army of shadows. I twisted to face the assassin, mid-air, throwing my arms towards him with the shadows following suit.
I looked back down and landed on a cushion of molten energy raised from the patches of shadows hovering just above the ground. The shadows had plunged into Five's stomach and forced him off the roof, his body being tackled towards the ground only for a blinding flash of blue to consume him.
My eyes slimmed in annoyance and brows furrowed to the sight of the assassin stood before me with a large knife pressed against my neck.
"You look tired." I eyed him up and down, very clearly mocking him, while I admired all the damage I had inflicted as if it were a piece of art.
Five's black suit was dirty and torn in several places, more prominently at the front, revealing the blood and bruises on his stomach and muscles. His red tie was barely hanging by a thread and the white blouse underneath was all torn up and practically non-existent.
His nose was purple and blue from the palm-strike, with smudges of red streaked across his forehead and upper lip.
Five stepped dangerously close towards me and pressed the knife deeper into my neck, almost drawing blood. He was less than a few small steps away from me and by the looks of it, he seemed eager to close the gap and assert the power he desperately yearned to hold over me.
I looked up at him with a devious grin, daring him to do it.
"How about I slice those lips off of your face. Will you be grinning then?" The man snarled and glared daggers.
I raised a brow. "How about I carve out your larynx so I won't have to listen to that aggravating voice of yours?
My neck began to sting from the knife cutting deep into my flesh, drops of crimson now gracing my collar bone.
The assassin forced out a low chuckle and shook his head slowly while his hold on the knife stiffened. His forest green eyes followed the blood pooling down my neck and raised them to meet my stare.
"I thought you knew who I was, number five. I'm a bloodhound, remember? Or has all that damage affected your memory--?"
I was caught off guard. Five grabbed my collar and slammed me against a brick wall, pressing the knife deeper into my wound. My nose scrunched in disgust to the smell of blood radiating off of him and the sudden boldness washing over the man.
"Listen hear you piece of shit." Five seethed. His veins bulged against his neck and his teeth were clenched and bare. "As you see, you have no fucking where to go. So you better answer my questions if you want to live the rest of your vulgar, pathetic life in peace. Got it?"
A tense silence fell between us. I felt the mans warm breath fan over my lips and his knuckles press against the end of my neck as he held my collar tightly. The distance between us was almost non-existent, causing discomfort to stir in my stomach.
But I did the next best thing.
I held eye contact with the assassin before I descended into laughter right in his face. I took a deep breath in and titled my head up towards him, watching his expression slowly unravel through hooded eyes.
"Even after beating you relentlessly, you still don't have the slightest idea of how dangerous I actually am. I seem to have overestimated your intelligence, Hargreeves." I neared my face up towards his, smiling cruelly at the anger he poorly contained.
I spoke before he could cut in. "Yes, I do know who you are, and you don't know who I am."
"And we're going to keep it that way."
Date: REDACTED, 1955
Location: TEMPS COMMISSION HQ
Time: REDACTED
"Did you kill him?" The concern was evident in The Handlers voice, making me raise a brow. Nevertheless, I knew her concerns were directed at her future plans, not the welfare of some field agent. But then again, Five Hargreeves wasn't just some field agent.
My lack of response seemed to fuel her agitation, my eyes noticing the quick clench of her jaw and flex of her fingers as she awaited my reply. In retaliation to the assassination attempt, I decided to not ease her fears.
A deep sigh caught her attention, followed by an amused scoff.
"You're seriously asking me, the bloodhound, if she spared some second rate assassin?" A twisted smile pulled at my lips and I sighed again dramatically. "After years of working together and you still don't know me at all."
"Stop playing these games and answer my question." The Handler, who usually handled things with a certain measure of grace and passive aggression, snapped clearly annoyed at my antics. She quickly realised her mistake however. The woman cleared her throat and took a long drag of her cigar, blowing the toxic fumes right at my face.
With a few steps towards the display of weapons sitting behind The Handlers figure, I decided to test the already fragile boundaries of the situation.
I traced my finger along the surface of the weapons. "I've always been jealous of your collection." My voice held a certain playfulness. One I knew the woman behind me despised. "Especially ever since I saw this glorious artifact hanging on your wall and collecting dust, never to be used again."
The sound of a blade being unsheathed echoed through the room. "The very Turkic-Mongol sabre used by Genghis Khan in battle."
The Handler flinched ever so slightly at the press of the cold blade against her exposed neck. A significant movement that most would miss.
She proceeded to look ahead, not faltering once as she said, "You know very well that even if you kill me, I'd just be replaced by another desperate senior waiting to have their shot at such a powerful position in such a powerful organisation." The woman turned to face me and a shiver ran down my spine. Even when confronted with death, her expression was void of emotion. And for a moment I saw someone I wished to have long forgotten. And The Handler knew that. "Take this cog out of a machine and it will soon be replaced by another. But they won't give you the same leniencies as I have with your dear Jasper. So I recommend you consider your decision very closely, darling."
She took the weapon from my hands as I stood there, mimicking a child frozen in a trance, realising they were in no control of their fate.
A hand crept on my shoulder and a pair of lips whispered against my ear, "Because this is the best you'll get."
She took her seat and released a relaxed sigh. "Now then, you were about to tell me what you've done with little Number Five?"
“Good.” She purred, coating an extra layer of lipstick on her lips. “Did you use—”
I felt her tense for a split second before her shoulders relaxed once more.
This time her voice is serious. “Does he remember your… abilities?”
“So he remembers the fight but not the powers. Interesting.”
A loud alarm screeched from outside the commission, followed by a woman's scream and the slam of a car trunk. That's when an echo of a recently familiar FWOOSH rang in the room, revealing the asshole I longed to kill.
"You." His voice came in a growl. The mans eyes were wild, like those of a predator stalking their prey. His hair was a mess with random strands stuck onto his skin from the sweat and blood in his face.
"Five Hargreeves," The Handler's voice pulled the assassin back into reality. "Meet your new partner."
I could hear the smirk and utter joy in her voice as she spoke my name, forming the deadliest partnership the Commission had to offer.
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