His toes digging into the splintered wood, tracing over the scrapes and lines etched and carved on the floor. He needed to get up, to pull himself together, to figure out who Harold Jenkins was, and how he could stop the apocalypse. But now… now it was a blessing because he had a chance to stop it. It was all just so damn irrelevant. ", He reached a hand towards his brother, letting his fingers touch Klaus's knee gently as his brother jumped, looking up, his expression hurt and broken, tears plastered against his cheeks as his eyes met Five. He raised a shaking hand to Diego's carotid artery. ", The 13-year-old cocked his head, wincing slightly as the ringing in his ears continued, as he tried to keep a cool, collected manner. Because the truth was, Luther was right. It’s a bittersweet, mostly bitter reunion. Five ran a hand through his hair, glancing towards Dolores lying on the foot of his bed as she asked if he was okay. Three days before the Apocalypse, a Temps Commission worker fails to check in his briefcase. Fingers clasped his hand, and Five opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the burning light hanging above him. The author would like to thank you for your continued support. He wasn't ready. They had a right to be concerned. He couldn't watch them die over and over and over. But you got to admit, Dad fucked him up pretty bad. He was a joker, an idiot; so, the seriousness that masked his brother's face right now, looked wrong. Sure, the Umbrella Academy ceased to exist, but it wasn’t a problem that needed immediate attention, right? "I can't.
Broken rib? He wiped at the water stains on his cheeks, letting out a hot breath as air refused to fill his deprived lungs. Wind whipped around them, dust, ash, soot eating away at their bloody clothing, and the smell of burnt wood, cement and rotting flesh filling their nostrils. And now, now I can. (The Umbrella Academy Pirate AU) [Ongoing, one chapter, 1,970 words, General Audiences], The Umbrella Academy fanfiction nobody asked for in which the Hargreeves siblings wrestle over a desk fan. You're alright, Five.
Hell, he'd tried, but she had stopped him. Something ran through his hair, pushing his bangs back and he felt his body go limp as his head fell against something solid, something real. To be back with his bastard of a father, his siblings, to grow up with them… he wanted Dolores back. Five smacked his hand away, wiping harshly at the wet marks still trailing down his cheeks, the tears still welled in his eyes, and he swallowed again as he tried to keep his breathing even.
The 13-year-old swallowed again, kicking weakly at the blanket laying over him, his side warning him that if he moved too much, he'd regret it. Luther is snoring. Confusion crossed his face as Klaus took a step back, "Yeah, I need someone to tie me up so I can get clean. It's the end of the fucking world, and it looks like me and you are the only survivors. He let out several shaky breaths.
He never did learn, did he. Nothing made sense. He swallowed again as Diego snaked an arm around his torso gently, pulling him up further, leading him towards the couch. But even now, his jumps weren't always accurate. "The apocalypse is in three days. She sighed, standing slightly, watching as the gun followed her movements, "I told you, Five. Last time I checked, you can't do that if you're dead…", "Yeah, well," The teenager started, trying to stand as Diego reached out a hand, pushing him back down, "If we don't do something, we all die. As he tried to calm down. They had lost several fucking hours because his stupid body couldn't handle a stupid piece of metal. Klaus swallowed, wiping at the tears on his face and in his eyes as he cleared his throat, "Well, if it isn't our little psycho back from the dead. The 13-year-old jumped, his breathing hitching as he pushed away from the wall. You can't be serious."
You look kinda…" Klaus trailed off, his hand circling his own features slowly before grimacing and clearing his throat. Luther ran a hand over his head, "There has to be another way.". Or he'd lose them, again. He glanced towards Cha-Cha and Hazel, and stood quickly, his body jumping, and he landed behind them, shoving the gun into Hazel's back and fired. He'd tried traveling back in time, for two straight days. How fucked up that would be… but then again, if it saved the rest of humanity, if it saved his family, then his life didn't matter. Luther asked, reaching a hand out as the 13-year-old caught it, his grasp tight around his brother's giant wrist, "It doesn't matter. It looked alien, foreign, shimmery, and if Five had any strength in his heavy arms, he would have reached out to touch it. The teenager coughed loudly, his limbs growing heavy, suddenly he found himself tired, weak, gone. "I'll tell you what though, Five," The Handler yelled, and the teenager glanced up, peering through the thick cloud of dirt, "I'll let you have two minutes.".
The teenager sighed, running a hand through his hair as he followed his brother down the stairs. He was old. Anyone. The sheets enveloping his body felt hot and heavy plastered roughly against sweaty flesh. ", Vanya paused for a moment, looking back at the violin before smiling, and she nodded. Neither of them had been expecting to hear the quiet sniffles that cause alarm bells to go off in their heads before the door opens and Klaus drags himself inside, his eyes squeezed shut as he just stands there, his chin wobbling. She doesn't know how she got to this place. And so the three of them got used to driving around with one another's company, got used to their own ridiculous inside jokes, and got used to accepting each other's presence without complaint. He waited for his stomach to calm before looking back up, wiping his mouth once more on his sleeve. He could go back and fix it, do it right, as many times as it took.
Suffocating against heavy air, and something thick was lying on top of him, making moving difficult, and making him feel trapped. Hell, they should be frightened. He cleared his throat, "Where's Klaus? The end of life, of everything, was in three days; they didn't have time for this, he didn't have time for this. … and the one time he returned the gesture in his own way. ", The 13-year-old pressed his feet firmly against the floor and proceeded to stand when Diego reached out a hand, pressing it against Five's shoulder, "Take it easy, Five. He cried loudly, pushing himself back on his knees, his eyes towards the sky as soot and burning dust covered his body. His vision swam and he blinked sluggishly as he realized he was losing consciousness.
The violin paused for a moment, and the 13-year-old turned his head back towards the closed door, listening quietly as it started up again, a different song playing. He glanced back towards Dolores, sitting comfortably in the wagon he'd found several hundred miles back, her head covered in a winter cap he'd found a few hours ago.
His stomach tightened, and he choked, trying to remember how the hell he had ended up here, ended up in the apocalypse yet again. He crossed his arms over his chest as he locked eyes with his brother. Perhaps the reason was that if he stopped, even for a moment, if he stopped to think about finally being back, thought of his siblings as his family like he used to, then it would make losing them so much harder.
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