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fiveisnumber1 · 2 months ago

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Timeless - Five Hargreeves X Reader

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38

A/N: Sorry, this took a bit. I was actually pretty close to finishing it before season 4 came out. Then I watched season 4 and fell into a rut for a bit because it was so disappointing and upsetting. Anyway, I finally got my energy to write back and have finally managed to finish it! Also, the title of this chapter is inspired by the song I'm Just Sayin' by Weathers so for any who are interested I'd recommend to go take a listen to it! Alright, thanks! Enjoy!

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Pt 39 - Hate And Love Are Starting To Taste The Same

From where he stood, Five watched as you got into what he could only assume was Dean's car and drove off. Staying in place for a moment, he looked at the number you had written on his arm. Using a finger he traced over the little heart you had drawn. It was a nice detail. Even in one of your worst moments you still took the time to show him you loved him. Although, the more he looked at it, the more he wanted to rush to a phone and call you already. It wasn't an emergency in the normal sense, but he still needed you. He knew he couldn't call though. You needed your space, and he had to trust you'd come back when you were ready to. Seeing as you probably weren't coming back for a bit, Five pulled down his sleeve, turned away from the doors, and walked back to his siblings at the bar. The silence was awkward as he approached, but it didn't last as Diego snapped,

"You just let her go!?"

"I had no choice." Five responded flatly "Even if I held on she could've just used her powers to leave."

"And what if she gets hurt?" Diego interrogated

"I don't know..." Five answered honestly "I just have to hope that she doesn't."

"But you're her boyfriend!" Diego retorted "It's your job to keep an eye on her."

Hearing that comment, Five side-eyed Diego. It's not like he wanted to let you go. Like he had said, he had no choice in the matter. And Diego sure was one to talk. For so long he touted himself as this amazing older brother, this superior protector who was far better at keeping you safe than Five was, and yet these past few days he had done anything but protect you. You grieved your dead parents and he didn't pay attention. You got torn by a kugelwave and instead of helping you, he turned his attention to Stan. You left the hotel and he had no clue where you went. You cried over the fact that your friends got blitzed and instead of comforting you, he comforted Stan who was scared of your residual power. And yet even with all the evidence, Diego still had the audacity to blame Five for your lack of physical and mental safety. Even when he was doing everything he could to ensure the opposite. Maybe instead of blaming him, Diego should take a long look in the mirror given that you had still expressed your love for Five, but had just fully rejected Diego.

"First of all, that was also supposed to be your job, but as we can all see, you failed at that." Five reminded "Secondly, I wouldn't be a very good boyfriend if I forced her to do something she didn't want to do. She respects and trusts my decisions even when she disagrees. It's only right that I do the same for her."

Diego opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but what could he say? Five was right. In some way or another, he had failed you and now you wanted nothing to do with him. Diego closed his mouth knowing he had nothing to reply and instead looked at the knives you had tossed on the ground. Letting out a sigh, Diego slowly bent down to pick them up. One by one he placed them in empty slots in his knife holster and when he ran out of space he carefully pocketed the rest. Standing back up, Diego gave Five a mournful look before returning to his spot by the bar. Taking a seat at one of the stools, he took a long drink from his glass. Stan looked at Diego, not out of any concern, but because of all the shiny knives that were now on his person. Looking at Diego excitedly, Stan asked,

"Can I have them?"

"No." Diego snapped

Diego could see the startled expression on Stan's face. He didn't mean to do that, Stan had already been through enough today. Letting out another sigh, Diego placed his glass down and looked directly at Stan.

"I'm sorry..." Diego apologized before sadly adding "But no, you can't have them."

"But she said-" Stan began to protest

"They're not yours, Stan. They belong to (Y/N)." Lila sternly enforced "You can't have them."

Letting out an annoyed huff, Stan walked away from the pair and sat down at a nearby table, slumping low in his seat to show his disdain. However, neither Diego nor Lila paid it much attention. Sitting in the seat next to Diego, Lila put a supportive hand on his shoulder. Putting his glass down, Diego's eyes met Lila's and in them she could see so much sorrow. His fire was dimmed and it broke her heart to think that she had maybe been the cause of this. She loved him. Diego didn't know Stan wasn't actually his. It was just supposed to be an experiment to see if he'd be a good dad. She was never trying to push you two apart. She didn't even think it was possible. She couldn't stand to see Diego so broken. If she could, she was going to try and fix this, for the both of you.

"She'll come back around." Lila comforted

"I hope so..." Diego lamented

"She will." Lila reassured, "I promise."

As Lila attempted to comfort Diego, Five had walked back behind the bar again. Pouring himself a new glass of whiskey, since Klaus had stolen his first, Five took a drink from the glass before looking at his siblings again. There was an awkward silence as everyone looked around, but it was soon broken as Luther questioned,

"So that thing? It was?"

"A Kugelwave." Five responded despondently "And It's getting worse."

"And all those kids they're...?" Viktor trailed off, the concern evident in his tone

Five grimaced. Those 'kids' weren't just anyone, they were your friends, and if things had worked out they could've been his friends. Hell, with the way they treated him maybe they already were, and now he was down six friends too.

"They're gone." Five answered "And we can only hope that their souls are in a better place."

Hearing Five's response, the wheels in Luther's head finally started to turn. With all the chaos that had ensued from the wave, his thoughts had whipped back and forth trying to figure out what to think and do. But with things settled down, he finally realized that Lucas was gone. But not just gone, he was gone gone.

"Oh no, that thing took my son!" Luther exclaimed, "What am I going to tell Sloane!"

"What's there to tell?" Allison snidely remarked, "You're not his real parents."

Luther glared at Allison, disgusted by her comment. Lucas may not have been his son for long, but he was still his son. Sure, it was a surprise to him, and sure it took your convincing to agree, but Lucas was a good kid. And in those few minutes they were together Luther felt like he had done a better job as a father to Lucas than Reginald had ever done for Luther. He honestly wished he had gotten to know his son better and introduced him to his mother. Who knows, maybe the three of them could've been happy together. And anyway, just because Lucas was late-term adopted didn't make him his son any less. Diego had a surprise son and Allison wasn't doubting his legitimacy. And on top of it, Luther and the rest of his siblings were all adopted too so what kind of authority did Allison think she had on what counted as legitimate parenthood?

"Yes, we are!" Luther replied defensively "Don't talk about my son like that."

Seeing the budding argument between Luther and Allison, and wanting to avoid the topic of parenthood for Diego's sake, Lila interjected,

"Five, how long do we have?"

Luther and Allison side-eyed each other but quickly turned their attention to Five. Finding out how much time they had left was only marginally more important than the argument they were heading toward. Although the resentment was still evident.

"At this rate of escalation, if you factor in-" Five began to explain

"How long, Five?" Allison pressed, cutting him off

So much for Five letting them down gently. After all that happened, he wanted to at least be neutral about their possibly imminent demise, but if bluntness was what they wanted, bluntness was what they would get.

"Four, maybe five days before the rest of existence is blitzed." Five answered

His bluntness had the exact reaction that he was expecting as all of his siblings and Lila let out heavy sighs and stared off into space. He watched as Allison took a heavy drink from her glass before walking behind a nearby pillar to be out of sight. However, even though she was out of sight it did not hide the sound of her panicked breaths. Well, Five couldn't say he didn't try to be sensitive about it. However, there was still a feeling of defeat after all that had occurred. Downing his glass, he then crossed his arms on the bar before leaning down and resting his head on his arms. It's not like there was much else to do.

"We should've given them Harlan..." Luther mumbled

"Luther." Viktor chastised

"What about Harlan?" Diego questioned

The rest of the family looked over to Luther. What was going on with Harlan and why was it important to this conversation? Realizing that it was too late to take back his words, but also that he did not want to hide this information Luther explained,

"The Sparrows said if we turned him over, we could end the fighting, and then work together to save the world."

Hearing this information the rest of the group perked up. Why hadn't they heard about this before?

"But if we didn't-" Luther continued

"But we tried to make peace. Okay? And then the step-siblings from hell attacked, kidnapped you, and they tried to kill us." Viktor chimed in cutting Luther off "I mean, come on. We can't trust them. Working together would be like trying to defuse a bomb by pouring gas on it. It's only gonna make things burn down faster."

"But don't we need the big bad glowy thing in their basement?" Klaus chimed in

As Five heard those words, he blinked a few times in confusion. Was Klaus talking about what he thought he was talking about? All this time, did Klaus have highly important information that he hadn't felt necessary to bring up until now? Slowly, Five turned to look at his eccentric brother as he questioned curiously,

"Klaus, do you know where the Kugelblitz is?"

"Oh, yeah. I saw it. When I went to visit Dad." Klaus replied nonchalantly "It's in the old storage room where Mom used to keep all her luggage."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Diego interrogated

"I did!" Klaus exclaimed, "I told you!"

"You say stupid shit all the time!" Diego shouted back before quietly adding "...important stupid shit."

Five slammed the empty glass he had been fiddling with on the bar top and stood up straight as he looked at Klaus. His thoughts which only a moment ago were despondent and wondering how he would spend his last day, were now reinvigorated with some type of hope of fixing things. He couldn't bring the loved ones you lost back, but if he could get access to the Kugelblitz he could stop it from hurting you and maybe you could build a life together where you both learned how to be happy again.

"Of course. It appeared in the same place we did." Five spoke aloud

Five felt a little stupid for not realizing this sooner. Why didn't he think to check the house? It made sense that it would appear there, that's where the paradox formed. Exactly, where they first showed up. Plans ran through Five's head of the quickest ways to get access to the Kugelblitz and the most effective ways to eliminate it. The sooner they did this, the more chance there was for a future.

However, Viktor knew that the tide had turned against him now. Everyone was most likely going to use Harlan as a pawn to get to the Kugelblitz, but he didn't deserve that. He needed a way to keep Harlan out of this. Trying to put his thoughts together, Viktor walked away from the bar and closer to the front desk, but he wouldn't get the time to himself as Luther had already followed him questioning,

"Hey, why are you protecting this guy, huh? It's like Peabody all over again."

Turning around to face Luther, Viktor knew he needed to try and get him off his back. Viktor was metaphorically trapped in a corner and he needed to find a way out of this.

"Harlan is nothing like Leonard." Viktor defended

"Well, he's clearly got some kinda hold over you." Luther protested "Stop covering for him."

There was nothing Viktor wanted more than to leave the conversation, but that became infinitely more complicated as the rest of his family approached him and Luther. Five looked between the two of them. They had been acting odd ever since Luther had brought up the deal the Sparrows offered. Even though it was probably the best plan, it was obvious Viktor wasn't in favor of it because of what it meant for Harlan, but it seemed like there was more to it that Luther was trying to address. Trying to get a clearer picture of what was going on Five asked,

"Covering what? What's going on?"

"He didn't mean to hurt anyone." Viktor dismissed

"Really? You mean, when he did this?" Luther interrogated, gesturing to the cut on Viktor's face

The rest of the group turned their attention to the scar on Viktor's face and it was not pretty. How had they not noticed it earlier? Well, perhaps because of everything that happened, but still it was right there on his face. Granted, it was not as large or deep as the gashes you received from the Kugelwave, but it wasn't small either.

"Ow," Lila commented

"Wait, Harlan did that?" Five questioned

"That's it, I'm gonna end him." Diego threatened

Viktor looked around nervously at his siblings and Lila. He didn't want this to be happening. Every insinuation or accusation that Luther shot his way was just one more reason for the rest of them to be all in on giving Harlan to the Sparrows. Viktor couldn't let that happen, if he did he'd be failing Harlan. He'd be failing Sissy for putting her son in harm's way. He never meant to hurt anyone, it was accidental. He was innocent.

"Look, I know how it looks, but Harlan didn't ask for this. If we hadn't gone back to 1963, if I hadn't saved him-" Viktor tried to deescalate

"He killed Jayme and Alphonso, not you." Luther retorted angrily, "He's the reason we're in this mess, and he's our only way out of it."

Although at this point Five wanted a distinct decrease in interpersonal conflict, no matter what way he looked at it Luther was right. Every plan he had started with getting access to the Kugelblitz without Sparrow intervention or retaliation. And the only plans in his mind that seemed to be plausible for that were the ones where Harlan was traded for access. It was a trolley problem, but the choice was easy to make.

"Luther's right." Five agreed "If we're gonna have an iota of a chance of getting out of this alive, we need access to the Kugelblitz."

"There's only four of them left. We can just overpower them." Viktor retorted frustrated

Five looked at Viktor bewildered. That was a stupid idea. It might've been only four of them, but they were still an incredibly strong team. Did Viktor forget the last time they fought the Sparrows? They got their asses kicked unbelievably hard. Trying to fight the Sparrows again was like willingly signing their death certificates.

"What, and risk losing some of us in the process?" Five snapped

"What? Like your girlfriend?" Viktor retorted

Five's bewilderment morphed into rage. How dare Viktor insinuate that you were weak and would die if they all tried fighting the Sparrows. Not only was that not true since you, one, beat all of them on your own, but two, they LIKED you. Even if you fought on the Umbrellas' side, the Sparrows most likely wouldn't be willing to engage you in that fight given the prior reasons. And on top of it all now, Five was very willing to sacrifice Viktor if it meant you stayed alive. Any concerns that Five might've had about sacrificing Harlan went out the window the second Viktor made that comment.

"No. Actually, she would be fine." Five berated "Because unlike you and the rest of us, she was able to single-handedly beat the Sparrows."

Viktor grimaced at Five's comment. Viktor's words came out before he fully thought them through and now there was no way he was getting Five back on his side. He had to try though, right? Opening his mouth, he was about to speak, but didn't get the chance as Luther remarked,

"Yeah, but we don't have her help now because someone had to make her hate us all."

Anger filled Diego as he whipped to face Luther. He had never meant to upset you, and to have whatever mistake he made thrown in his face did not feel good. But since Luther wanted to keep score of what caused your anger, Diego would too. Stepping up to Luther, Diego shouted,

"You made the family comment!"

"Well, YOU pissed her off enough to think that way!" Luther shot back "How hard was it to say 'yes, I love you'?!"

"ENOUGH." Five yelled

This conversation was heading in a direction that he didn't want to go to. You were upset and that's why you left. There was no discussion necessary because everyone was to blame. If they didn't cause the Kugelblitz none of this would be an issue. But unfortunately, they did cause it so now they needed to focus on fixing the problem. With the two giant idiots now quiet, Five turned back to Viktor and let out a heavy breath before more calmly saying,

"Listen Viktor, Harlan is insignificant."

"You told me once that no one is insignificant." Viktor replied

Five went quiet as he heard his words thrown back in his face. He had said that because it was true. In the grand scheme of timelines and outcomes, anyone could affect what happened. But things were different now. Now, they were talking about one person versus the rest of the world. Yes, Harlan was significant, but he also wasn't. He was the key to getting in the door of the academy and saving the world but after that, in the grand scheme of things he didn't matter.

Viktor looked around at his siblings waiting for someone to say something, but no one spoke. In that moment, Viktor tried his best to appeal to the humanity in his siblings, by quietly stating,

"They'll kill him."

However, his appeal was met with blank stares from the rest of the group. However, it didn't mean they had thoughts on what he said. Speaking up, Lila stated the obvious fact of the matter, saying,

"Uh, so? We are talking about one person versus saving billions of lives here. I mean, is this really a debate for you people?"

"Hey, Little Britain? You don't get a vote." Viktor angrily retorted

"Lila lives in this universe too." Klaus finally chimed in "Besides, she's family now. Kinda, sorta."

"Thanks, kitten." Lila thanked

"I don't give a shit about the Sparrows," Diego interjected "But I'm not gonna let scary-ass Grandpa finish you off."

"Five days ago, he was just a little kid." Viktor pleaded "And what? Now I'm supposed to just decide whether he lives or dies?"

Although Five was still upset at Viktor's comments and was fully ready to hand Harlan over to the Sparrows, he still cared about his brother. And his brother cared about Harlan. It was difficult, but if they were going to save the world and all the people left in it they had to trade Harlan to the Sparrows. It was the only way.

"Viktor, we're down to ethical triage here, all right? We can't save everyone." Five explained gently "The kindest cut wins."

Stepping forward from the rest of the group Luther looked down at Viktor. This was difficult, but it was necessary. Viktor had always wanted to be a full member of the Umbrella Academy, do what they did, and now this was his opportunity whether he liked it or not.

"You always wanted to be on the team. This is what it is." Luther added, mimicking Five's gentle tone "Saving the world means making the hard calls."

"I hate this." Viktor replied quietly

"Yeah, I know." Luther sympathized before quietly stating "I'll go get him."

Luther started to walk past Viktor. He knew how difficult this would be for Viktor so instead of arguing about it, Luther internally volunteered himself to go. But before he could get too far, Viktor turned to face him.

"Wait, no." Viktor called before adding "Let me do it. He trusts me. I can convince him to come quietly."

Before anyone could protest his decision, Viktor had already walked passed Luther and gone up the stairs toward the room Harlan was in. With Viktor gone and the beginnings of a plan in place, the rest of the group slowly dissolved as most of them went their separate ways in the hotel until it was time to trade Harlan to the Sparrows. As the rest of his siblings and Lila walked off he stayed at the bar, pouring himself another drink and wondering where you went.

The thing was, you didn't really know where you were going. Driving away from the Hotel Obsidian, you made your way down the apocalyptic streets of the city. There were even more abandoned cars, missing posters drifted in the wind, and random items were scattered about the sidewalks. The world seemed to have no direction, but neither did you. Where could you go when the city you once called home was now a graveyard? Your brain was numb and while your eyes were on the road, you weren't particularly focused. It was as if you were driving for driving's sake. Trying to escape something, but you couldn't quite get away.

Physically you were alive. Your heart still beat, your synapses still fired, your organs were all in relative working order, but mentally, you had died. You didn't know where to go. Most places that came to mind were just another reminder of what you had lost. Your head spun as you thought of your friends. Their laughter. Their voices. You swore you could hear it, clear as day.

"Where are we going, (Y/N)?" You heard Addison ask

Hearing her voice, your eyes shot up to the rearview mirror only to be met with a set a deep brown eyes looking back at you. But with your powers, you could feel that no one was there. Quickly, you turned off into a side alley before parking the car. Closing your eyes, you placed your hands over them as you quietly said,

"I can't do this again..."

"Do what, (Y/N)?" Kenny's voice asked

You gripped tighter at your head as if that would make him go away, but you knew it wouldn't. And just like that, it was as if you were 13 again. Stuck in a new world, with no parents, no home, and all your friends gone. You were the one thing you never wanted to be.

Alone.

You had worked so hard to get the Umbrellas out of your head after you lost them. You pushed through night terrors and vivid visages of your beloved friends trying to return to some semblance of normalcy. You had pushed away the pain of their loss, half through brute force and half through the support of others like Grace, Eudora, and...Diego. But now, you had no strength to push through, nor anyone to lend you support. Yes, you had Five, but he had more important things to worry about, and so you were right back where you started. Sad, alone, and begging for the phantom visions of your lost friends to not hurt you any further.

Lifting your head from your hands, you looked into the rearview mirror again. Tears began to well up as you saw the faces of your friends in the reflection. You tried to find your composure, but could only manage to gain a few scraps of it.

"You're not real." You stated, your voice wavering

"Of course we're real," the vision of Lucas replied "We're your friends."

"I don't want this!" You shouted, the tears falling from your eyes

"But you want us enough to need it." Dean's visage replied calmly

Dean was right. You wanted your friends back so badly that your head was creating them for you. It was the same reason it did so when you lost the Umbrellas. It was supposed to be comfort, but it was still pain. And for as much as you wanted them back, you didn't have the strength to do this. It hurt too much. Your eyes shut as you held your head in your hands once more. Your hands covered your ears as your fingers gripped tightly at your hair. Curled up as best as you could in the driver's seat, you screamed,

"GET OUT!"

Things went quiet, and when you opened your eyes, they were gone. Slowly, you turned around to look at the back seat. It was completely empty except for a few items scattered about it. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you leaned over the console into the back as you picked them up. Lucas' sunglasses. Addison's lucky bracelet. Kenny's flask. Bren's leather jacket. You pulled Viktoria's phone out of your pocket and placed it in the pile in your arms. With each item, you pressed them against your chest, holding them close as you began to sob once more. This was all you had left of them. A car and everything in it.

You didn't know how long it took to stop crying, but once you did, you felt empty again. At this point, you had given up on miracles, but you wished you could at least have something to distract your mind. Maybe if you got some air something would come along to distract you. You looked down at the objects in your arms. You didn't plan on going far, but you couldn't leave them behind. You had to keep your friends close. Carefully you placed the objects down on the passenger seat as one by one you placed them on your body. You put Bren's jacket on, followed by Addison's bracelet. Kenny's flask went into one jacket pocket while Lucas' sunglasses went in the other, on the same side you wore Addison's bracelet. They were in love, you had to keep the two of them together somehow. And then you placed Viktoria's phone back into your pants pocket. With all of them accounted for, you turned the car off and took Dean's keys out of the ignition.

Stepping out of the car you locked the driver's side door, but before you could walk away something told you to open the trunk. You were pretty sure you knew what was in there. The bag of money Kenny stole, the bag of fanfiction Viktoria put together, and the miscellaneous clothes that your friends had worn prior to the thrift store, and yet you still felt compelled to open it. Walking to the back of the car, you stuck the key into the trunk lock and opened it up, and while you saw exactly what you thought would be there, the was one more item you didn't expect.

Dean's bow and arrows.

The only time he ever took it off was to drive and for some reason going into the hotel was the one time he didn't bring it with him. You let out a sigh as you carefully picked up the bow and quiver of arrows. Granted, it wasn't his old bow, it was the one you gave him, but even for the one day he had it, it was his. And with this discovery, the three things your brother loved most were all in one place: his bow, his car, and you. But he wasn't here to be with them. It was your job to take care of it now. Anyway, with your knives gone, you needed a new projectile weapon so it seemed that this would be your best option. Throwing the quiver over your shoulder you attached the bow to it the way you had seen Dean do many times before. With that settled you closed the trunk of the car, locking it with the key once more before looking ahead. Walking to the front of the car, you patted the hood as you said,

"Stay here, Veronica. I'll be back."

And with that, you started to walk down the alley you had parked in and took a look at the surroundings. On your right, there was the backside of brick buildings and to your left, it looked like that of a warehouse. There was something familiar about this place, as if you had been here before. However, you had lived in this city practically your whole life so many places felt familiar. But this, this was different. It was uncanny. And then you saw it, a set of double doors that you had encountered before. This wasn't just any warehouse. This was the warehouse you almost died in at 17. Out of all the alleys you had pulled into, you ended up in this one. It was almost funny the way the world toyed with you. In your timeline, this place had burned to the ground, but in this one that had never happened and so here it was completely intact. You stood in front of the double doors and contemplated going in. You hesitated for a moment wondering if reminding yourself of that day would be good for you right now, but it wasn't like your day could get much worse at this point, right?

With a shrug of your shoulders, you walked through the doors and into the building. Light came in through the dirty and broken windows illuminating the copious amount of dust. Machines sat broken and the place was abandoned as ever. You wondered what happened in this timeline for it to be left in this condition. In your old one, it was still functioning just severely unsecured. Making your way down the halls you came to a large opening, and found yourself in the same room where everything had gone down five years and two timelines ago. It was still terribly humid in the place, but the air felt mustier than you recalled. Looking around, you could practically see the events of that day replaying in front of you.

Melted guns on flesh, arrows to organs, broken skulls, snapped necks, drowning from the inside, you remembered how all of it played out. You recalled the way in which your body tore at itself from overusing your powers, the current wounds on your forearm and collarbone mimicking the ones you got that day. And then over to the side of the room you saw it, the now-defunct and most likely empty gas tank. Unlike that day when you had rushed over, today you walked slowly, your steps echoing across the floor as you remembered the events that occurred. The last drug dealer alive threw his lighter into the tank and Bren didn't notice as he began to run beside it. You stopped walking and looked at the spot you now stood in. It was the same spot you had jumped over to and pushed Bren to the ground behind you. You mustered all the strength you had left that day to use your powers and protect him from the explosion. All you could recall was the terrified look on Bren's face and then everything went black.

A selfish part of you wished Kenny hadn't saved your life that day. If he hadn't then you would've never had to live without your friends. Never had to fight multiple apocalypses. Never had to grieve their deaths multiple times. Never have been left alone like this. But then again, you'd never want them to feel the pain that comes with the loss of a friend. You knew what that pain was like before you had ever lost them, and you would do anything to make sure they never felt that. Perhaps it was better this way, better for them to die together and you to be alone, rather than the reverse. The last thing you needed was your death turning your friends into the Hargreeves, although you hoped they knew how to stick together better than the Umbrella Academy. Nevertheless, it was an isolating situation as you quietly stood over the site of your almost-death.

However, the quiet did not last as you heard the sound of a door slam in the distance. With the sounds of footsteps approaching, you tried to use your powers to lift a nearby pallet so you could knock out whoever was coming, but all it did was make you feel nauseous. It didn't hurt you to use your powers, but you still needed time to recover from the last energy wave and surely you wouldn't last long in a fight. As the footsteps drew closer to the room you were in you knew you had no choice but to go for a more direct approach. Pulling out Dean's bow and an arrow you lifted it up and pulled the string back just as Dean would've. And as the figure rounded the corner into the room you were in you let the arrow fly. At rapid speed, the arrow shot toward the unknown figure and punctured straight into...the wall next to them.

"What the hell!" The figure shouted

Wait. You couldn't see the person, but you certainly recognized that voice.

"Benjamin?" You questioned, a mix of confusion and annoyance in your tone

You saw as he began to angrily march over to you. His expression was a mix of shock and exasperation. God damn it. You didn't want to deal with this asshole.

"You could've killed me!" Ben shouted angrily

"If I wanted you dead, you would be." You deadpanned

That wasn't fully true. You missed lodging the arrow in Ben's shoulder by about two inches. Dean had given you a few lessons on using his bow and arrow and while you were a decent shot you certainly weren't as good as he was. The only way you could match his accuracy was in your knife-throwing skills, but that wasn't an option anymore. However, that information did not matter because Ben didn't need to know it. What mattered was figuring out what his plan was though. If he was here, he had to have some type of motive.

"Why are you here?" You demanded

Ben stopped in his tracks as he heard your question. His attention locked on you as he retorted,

"I could ask you the same question."

Pulling out another arrow, you raised the bow up once more and aimed it at Ben. Since he was closer now, you were certain you wouldn't miss him this time. And while you didn't want to insinuate a potential fight, you needed him to answer so you could figure out if he was actually a threat or not.

"We both know how capable I am of killing you." You replied firmly "Answer my question."

"Fine." Ben spat "Just put the bow down."

Slowly, you lowered the bow and arrow, but you kept them in your hands, ready to raise them back up if necessary. You stayed quiet, looking at him sternly as you waited for his response. You watched as he took a moment to assess the situation, his eyes darting at the room, the bow, and you before he answered,

"Since the Umbrella Academy killed Alphonso and Jayme yesterday Fei has been sending out her birds to keep tabs on them. One of them spotted you coming here, so I came to investigate."

Your face filled with disgust at the way he spoke. He talked as if finding you here was some sort of retcon mission and the fact that you were possibly being tracked since yesterday did nothing to improve your mood. But then the actual words he said processed through your mind and your stern expression fell as a sad look overtook your face.

"Jayme and Alphonso are dead?" You questioned sadly

Ben looked at you. From where he stood your body language was more relaxed than it was a minute ago and while you still held the bow in your hands, he had a feeling that you weren't going to use it again. When Fei mentioned that one of her birds had spotted you out this way he knew he had to come find you. There was something about you that puzzled him and he wanted to figure it out. He didn't even care that Fei snickered at him as he rushed out the door to find you because he had to. But if he was going to find out why you were in an abandoned warehouse then it would be easier to do so up close. If he could see your face better, he could read you better. Believing that you weren't going to threaten him harm again, he slowly approached as he responded,

"Yeah. The weird old guy with the Umbrellas, Harlan. I watched him kill them."

Harlan? Wasn't that the little boy that Viktor had accidentally given powers to? It had been 50 years though so it makes sense he would've been an old man now. You wondered how he came to be in this area if he was from Texas. Had Viktor sought him out or did Harlan find Viktor? Either way, it was upsetting that two more losses had occurred even if you only knew them briefly. You looked at Ben. Unlike your Ben who you could easily read, this one was closed off. You couldn't tell if the death of his siblings affected him or not, but you weren't one to take familial death lightly. Carefully, you placed Dean's bow and arrow back into the quiver. Even if you weren't his biggest fan that didn't mean your sympathy completely went away. With sincerity in your tone, you said,

"I'm sorry. You didn't deserve to go through that."

Ben paused, the slightest look of confusion on his face. He couldn't remember the last time someone expressed sympathy toward him. He tried to wrack his brain for at least one moment, but none came. No one had ever told him that he didn't deserve to go through the things he faced before. He looked at you intently, your voice was sincere, but he wanted to see if your face was too. He thought that maybe this was just a ploy to get his guard down, but when he looked at you, your expression was soft and your eyes, they were sad, but not in the disappointed way his family had looked at him before. Quite the opposite, your gaze was apologetic. You were genuinely sorry that his siblings had died. He stared at you unsure of what to say and slowly began to step closer, but as he looked at you he began to notice details about you that he hadn't before. Parts of your body were covered with gauze, your cream-colored outfit was splotched with maroon markings that he now realized were dried blood, and your eyes that were soft and apologetic toward him were red and puffy as if you had been profusely crying.

Seeing you this way, it was as if something ignited inside Ben. He could feel as his heart rate increased, the beat of it drumming faster than it did on any mission. He felt infuriated. Not at you, but at the fact that you looked this way. His hands shook slightly at his sides and he felt like he needed to go out and fight someone, but he didn't know who. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stand seeing you hurt like this. With a serious look on his face, and his voice firm and steady, he questioned,

"Who did this to you?"

Your sympathetic look contorted into a frown as you heard his question. Your wounds, both mental and physical, were fresh. The grief and rage of what had happened not to long ago still coursed through your veins.

"Blame the people who killed your siblings," You spat "Their selfish inaction is killing me."

Ben scowled. He already didn't like them, but knowing this made him even more disdainful. He couldn't explain it, but part of him wanted to march right into that hotel and start picking them off.

"The Umbrellas did this?" Ben questioned, vile in his tone

"The black hole caused by them existing in this timeline did this," You stated gesturing to your wounds before gesturing to your red and puffy eyes and adding "And their lack of initiative to stop it, leading to the deaths of my friends, caused this."

Ben's contempt for the Umbrellas continued as you elaborated on what had happened, but there was a part of him that felt a twinge of guilt. When Viktor and Allison came to the Academy to tell them that things were disappearing he initially dismissed them. Now that it had become a bigger issue he did recognize the threat, but he didn't really care about it until now when it had affected you. He wasn't going to open his mouth and tell you that though. Right now you weren't on good terms with the Umbrellas, so perhaps he could get you with him on the side of the Sparrows. It would be nice to have someone competent like you by his side. And also the Sparrows could use your strength. But to do that he had to continue to build some type of rapport. Trying to keep the conversation going, Ben asked,

"So why are you here?"

"I don't know. I just kinda ended up here." You explained, "I guess there's something familiar about the place where my friends' and I's fates were almost reversed."

"Almost reversed?" Ben asked curiously

"When I was seventeen I should've died in this warehouse. In this exact spot actually." You answered, pointing at the spot on the floor where you both stood "Only reason I survived was I took a massive dose of epinephrine straight to the heart."

Ben's face dropped upon hearing your words. His curiosity washed away and his gaze turned to look at the floor beneath his feet. He was standing on the spot where you almost died at seventeen. His body tensed and there was a pang of familiarity in his chest as wicked memories he tried to forget played in his mind. Seventeen...far too young to experience a near-death experience.

"How?" He asked quietly, his gaze still on the floor

Typically, this wasn't a topic you shared with others, but before you could stop yourself though the words just tumbled out of your mouth,

"My friend Brendon, Bren, he- he didn't know the gas tank over there was going to explode. He didn't see the lighter go in the tank and-"

You stopped. Your brain rushed with the events of that day again except this time everything moved slower. You had made your decision to jump in front of Bren in less than a second, but thinking about it again you recalled the one other thought you had before you jumped in front of him. You looked off in the distance toward the defunct gas tank.

"When Ben died, I technically didn't even exist. I couldn't save him. I never got the chance." You explained softly "But I could save Bren. So I did. I wasn't going to let history repeat itself and I didn't care what it would cost me."

Ben's gaze left the floor and back toward you once more. His eyes did not meet your own as you looked off in the distance, but he could see the pained look on your face. Mournful, sad, regretful. Part of him wanted to say something to you, that he was sorry for what happened, that you shouldn't have had to go through what you did, but it felt like the words were caught in his throat. He didn't really know how to articulate it because feeling this way was discouraged by his father. He said sympathy was weak, and yet you were stronger and far more favored by his father than him and still you were kind. But before he could find the ability to say something he saw you open your mouth to speak and so he kept his shut.

"But it doesn't matter because he and the rest of my friends are all gone and I'm telling you all these things because- I don't even know why!" You exclaimed frustrated before quietly adding, "Probably because you're the only one around..."

As you said those words you looked back at Sparrow Ben and for the first time his expression had no anger in it. It was gentle and...sympathetic. You paused. The way he looked at you, it was the same way your Ben would when he was concerned about you. When everyone else was off doing their own things during each apocalypse he always sought you out and made sure you were okay. And he looked just like that.

"What's that look for?" Ben questioned, noticing the change in your demeanor

"You just...look like Ben." You answered quietly, gesturing toward him

Ben's sympathetic look morphed into one of frustration as he exclaimed,

"I am Ben!"

Your face dropped as you heard his outburst. Your sad look changing into annoyance. He certainly was NOT Ben.

"Not to me. You're not my Ben." You deadpanned "You're Benjamin."

You were so infuriating. His name was Ben, he was Ben and you refused to acknowledge him as such. Why? Why wouldn't you address him properly?

"Why won't you call me Ben? It's my name!" Ben ranted

"You've never given me a reason to do so. You've never done anything to show me you deserve the name more than him."

Ben frowned at your answer. Everyone kept talking about this other Ben. This seemingly perfect other Ben. Why? What was the point of bringing him up? He was apparently dead while Ben was right here. And yet they all compared him to this other one.

"All of you treat this other Ben of yours like he's so special." Ben complained

"He's only special to them because he's dead. If he was alive they'd treat him the same way they treat each other." You snidely remarked "Poorly."

Ben looked at you surprised. Your tone was filled with contempt as you talked about how the Umbrellas treated each other. He could see your point though, they weren't quite a united front when it came to things and seemed to constantly undermine each other. However, your statement only covered why this other Ben was special to the Umbrellas.

"He wasn't special to you?" Ben asked confused

You let out a sigh. Quite the opposite, Ben was very special.

"No, he was. But it's because he was my friend. We worked well together, I saw him when no one else could and he listened to me when no one else would." You explained softly "That's what made him special. Who he was, not the fact that he was gone."

You missed Ben. When you told the Umbrellas he was the only one who treated you like family, you meant it. You made him feel seen and he made me feel heard. You saw him, you spoke to him, you gave him the recognition and connection that he had craved for all those years he was stuck with just Klaus. And he heard you, he noticed you when your demeanor changed, he sought you out and always made sure you were okay when no one else seemed to remember to. You respected each other. You understood each other. You missed the Ben who was your friend, your family, but all you were stuck with was his abrasive, confusing doppelgänger.

Ben stood still as he processed what you had said. He honestly didn't know how to react to your explanation since you spoke so kindly of him. Well, this other version of him. He was special because of who he was? Ben had heard something like that before from his father, but that was in relation to his powers and what he could do with them. However, special in that context meant to show how he was above others. In yours, it was a term of endearment. You liked that Ben. You cared for that Ben. But would you ever see him that way too? Ben tried to shake the thought from his head. He didn't like how easily you found your way into his thoughts. It was distracting. He needed to switch the topic.

Just a few minutes ago you had mentioned the black hole causing trouble in the world. Allison and Viktor had brought it up to him and Fei yesterday morning as well. Of course that was before they actually found it in the basement, but he wondered with your abilities did you know where it was?

"So this black hole...do you know where it is?" Ben asked, his tone indicating the awkward change in topic

You raised an eyebrow at him as you tried to figure out what he was getting at. Why would he jump from asking about Ben to asking about the black hole? Was he trying to get information out of you or was he just bad at conversation?

"Uh kinda..." You hesitantly responded, "I can sense its direction when a wave hits, but I can't feel its location without one."

"Why not?" Ben followed up

What kind of conversation was this? Could you even call it a conversation with how weird he was? It didn't really seem like he had an actual plan coming here and was just winging it. You were curious to see how this would play out though, it's not like there was much else of intrigue going on in your life.

"Because it's a fucked up black hole. It doesn't play by the rules." You replied before elaborating "When a wave happens, the black hole is releasing the potential energy that had built up inside it and distributing it across the world. As it does this it sucks certain things in with it because it needs more fuel so it can continue to sustain itself. When it's doing that I can feel it because its energy is disturbing everything."

"So you can't feel it now?" Ben followed up

Was that not what you had just explained? It's not like you were using a lot of big words or technical terminology. It's like he wasn't even paying attention. Did he actually care for your answers or was he just looking at you with a stupid expression just because?

"Were you not listening? Without a wave, it's in a homeostasis of sorts." You explained slightly more exasperated "All of its energy is contained inside of it while the outside is normal. Well, my definition of normal."

Ben could feel a slight heat rise to his face as you asked if he was listening. He was. Well, at least he thought he was. He was looking at you, and he was watching you speak, but the words seemed to fade away a little as he watched you. But he understood now, and to demonstrate his understanding he stated,

"Oh, so it's a paradox."

Okay, maybe he was listening to you. But if so that just meant his face looked stupid in general which was certainly unfortunate for him.

"Yeah, something like that. Schrödinger's energy." You replied "But that is for the Umbrellas to figure out. I literally don't care anymore."

A silence fell over the room. You looked at Ben and Ben looked at you, but there were no more words being exchanged. The silence wasn't awkward though, it just felt empty. It felt like there were more words or at least there should be more words. Maybe it was because you were lonely, but part of you wanted to talk more. Having someone to talk to, even if they weren't your first choice of person, was better than being alone and far surpassed accepting conversation with the voices in your head. But with nothing else to be said, there wasn't really any point in staying.

"Well, this has been...interesting, but I'm going to go now." You stated as you began to walk away

Ben looked at you shocked. No, no you couldn't go. He had only found you a few minutes ago. You had only just started talking. He hadn't even gotten a chance to get his bearings on the situation yet and now you were leaving? Where were you going? The only place you had was Hotel Obsidian.

"You're going back to the hotel?" He questioned

"And run into the life-ruining squad? No thanks." You scoffed back, continuing to walk "I'll figure out somewhere else to go."

Watching you walk away he knew he needed to do something to stop you and before he could even realize he had said it, Ben blurted out,

"Go to the Academy."

Stopping in your tracks, you turned to look back at him. You were surprised he had called out to you, but it was a decent suggestion. At this point where else did you have to go? You couldn't go back to Kenny's, you couldn't go home, and you still weren't ready to face the Hargreeves at the hotel again. And so, all that was left was the one place you kept coming back to. The Academy. With a shrug of your shoulders, You reluctantly replied,

"Okay."

Ben looked at you shocked. He didn't actually think that would work. He thought he was going to have to convince you more to go there. He had already started forming his argument in his head to try and get you to the Academy, but now he was at a loss for words.

"Wait? Really?" He questioned confused

"Yeah." You replied bluntly before turning around and beginning to walk away again

Ben stood frozen as he watched you walk away. He hadn't gotten far in his planning and once again you had flipped his brain upside down. You were so unpredictable. He hated how he couldn't understand you. At this point, all he wanted was to be able to understand you. It certainly would help to dispel the confusion he felt every time he interacted with you.

As you continued to walk toward the door you could feel that Ben was far behind you. Glancing over your shoulder you noticed him still standing in the same spot you had left him in. Encouraging him to follow you called out,

"Hurry up you cephalofuck!"

Snapping from his trance, Ben realized not only how far you were but what you had just called him. Cephalofuck? Really?! Quickly, he started to make his way over to you as he shouted,

"Don't call me that!"

You didn't respond though as you walked out of the main room of the warehouse and back to the door to the alleyway. As you retraced your steps to the door you came in you could hear the sound of speed walking behind you as Ben shouted,

"Wait up!"

You kept going though, and when you made it to the set of doors you came through, you walked through them back outside. Taking a step off to the side, you leaned against the brick exterior as you waited for Ben to exit the building. After a few moments, one of the doors widely swung open and you watched as Ben quickly looked around for you. Catching your gaze, Ben trudged over to you, his hands balled up angrily and his classic scowl present on his face.

"You could've waited for me!" He complained

"I'm waiting now, aren't I?" You remarked

Ben paused. You were so frustrating! You made him so frustrated! He didn't even know what to say. He stopped for a moment trying to find the words, but through gritted teeth, all he could do was point and say,

"My car is that way."

The way he was pointing was in the complete opposite direction of Dean's car and you couldn't just leave Veronica here. It would be wrong. That was your brother's baby. That car is your first niece. Her father was dead, you couldn't just abandon her. You'd be a terrible aunt for that.

"Yeah, no." You rejected "I'm not abandoning the car I came in. You want me to go to the Academy you either have to drive alone or get in with me."

"How can I trust you won't just go somewhere else?" Ben inquired

"Where else do I have to go?" You questioned back

"I-I don't know!" Ben exclaimed frustrated

"Listen man, you can either learn to trust people or you can get in the car with me, but I'm not leaving it behind." You explained

Ben was perfectly capable of trusting people. As the rightful leader of the Sparrows, Ben trusted his siblings to listen to him when they went on missions. Ben trusted his father's judgment. Ben trusted that civilians would respect him went he went out in public. Ben had plenty of trust.

"Fine. I'll go with you." Ben relented "But only because I can TRUST that my car will be okay."

Oh boy. Reginald had really screwed him up, hadn't he? This Ben had no clue what genuine trust was. Genuine trust came with vulnerability and from what you saw, he refused to be vulnerable. Part of you wanted to explain to him what real trust was, but twenty-nine seemed a little too late for an outside intervention. Instead, you gave a shrug of your shoulders and nonchalantly replied,

"Whatever cognitives your dissonance, dude. The car's this way."

Turning away from him you walked down the alley from which you came and headed back to your car. The only sounds you could hear were that of your footsteps and Ben grumbling to himself behind you. You couldn't make out the words he was saying, but you could assume he was ranting about you. It was a shame you ran out of fucks to give just an hour ago, maybe if you had one you'd care to coddle his ego just like you had done with the rest of the Hargreeves. Oh well!

As you arrived back at Veronica, you used the key to unlock the driver's side door, but as you opened it to get in you saw Ben stop. His eyes looked over the car for a moment, before judgmentally commenting,

"This is your car? It looks old as hell."

Technically, he was correct. Veronica was a 1967 Chevy Impala making her quite old, but his tone of voice mentioning that fact was off-putting and offensive to you. Veronica ran better than most cars these days because Dean took such good care of her. She was his pride and joy and you weren't going to let his snide remark slide.

"Excuse you, Veronica's exterior might be vintage but she was built for street racing and she runs like a dream." You retorted "Also, this isn't my car. It's my brother's."

"How did Diego get a car so fast?" Ben questioned

You grimaced at his question. While he didn't know any better given that you had referred to Diego as your brother the last time you spoke, you didn't like hearing Diego being called that. He wasn't your brother. In your experience, a brother was someone who cared for you, and now you knew, Diego did not.

"Diego is not my brother." You spat before adding "This is Dean's car."

"Who the hell is Dean?" Ben asked confused

"My only brother." You remarked quickly "Now get in."

Ben had a few questions about some of the things you had just said, but he could see your frustration building. He wondered if offering to beat up Diego would appeal to you, but his gut told him not to push the issue. With a curt nod of his head, Ben walked to the passenger side and got in the car as the two of you silently drove back to the academy. Ben wanted to say something, but he didn't exactly know how. He didn't think you'd react nicely to him talking about himself and his accomplishments as part of the Sparrows, but he also wasn't sure how to ask you about well...you. Everything you had mentioned so far was either surface level or something that had upset you, neither of which he could build a conversation off of. Instead of talking, he opted to look out the window of the car as he watched the messed up remains of the city go by as you made your way back to the Academy.

It didn't take long, but soon enough the two of you pulled up in front of the building. Without saying much you and Ben both exited the car and headed inside. As you entered the foyer, you could see Sloane walking down the stairs and when she caught sight of you, her eyes lit up.

"(Y/N), you're back!" Sloane exclaimed excitedly, coming over and giving you a hug

"Hello, Sloane." You greeted, hugging her back

As she held you, you could feel her hug getting tighter, and while emotionally you felt comforted by being held, physically you were extremely uncomfortable.

"Augh." You groaned in pain

Scared she had hurt you, Sloane pulled back from the hug and when she took a better look at you, she noticed the bloody bandaging on your hand and face.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" She asked concerned

"I'm fine, it's no big deal." You deflected

That was only partially true. You did feel better than you did right after it happened, and your injuries weren't actively hurting you, but the soreness that came with touching those injuries was still present. Your deflection did nothing though as Sloane pressed,

"No, you should have Grace take a look at you."

"I'll be fine." You deflected once more

"No, I insist." Sloane replied concerned "(Y/N), this is your home, please let Grace take care of you like she takes care of us."

With it seeming like she wasn't going to drop the topic until you agreed, you nodded your head and said,

"Okay."

Linking arms with you, she guided you upstairs to the medical room of the Academy with Ben trailing closely behind. Sloane didn't need to guide you, you had been here before and knew where it was. Nevertheless, you didn't pull away as it was comforting to have someone care. As you made your way into the med bay you sat down on the bed in the room.

"Let me go find Grace and send her here." Sloane stated

You watched as Sloane walked back out the door of the med bay and off to find Grace leaving only you and Ben in the room. He leaned against the wall next to the door, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked in your direction. Why was he still here? It didn't bother you that he was, but at the same time, you couldn't understand why he would want to stay. Your Ben always stuck around because he cared, but you weren't close to this Ben the way you were with yours. Did he care or was this some type of 'hero' reflex where he couldn't leave until you were deemed saved? You were sad and injured, but you weren't weak. You didn't need saving.

"You don't have to stay with me, y'know." You mentioned

After the words came out of your mouth you could see his face change. What was once a neutral expression dropped into that of a frown. It looked almost like he was hurt by your comment.

"Oh." Ben responded "Okay..."

You watched as he stepped away from the wall and walked toward the door. He looked back at you for a moment, his gaze lingering and his face still reflecting an emotion of hurt, before turning and walking away. Aw, man. You felt a little bad for sending him away. Maybe he was actually being nice and now you were all alone waiting for Grace to show up.

You sat for a few minutes in empty silence before hearing footsteps approaching. Looking at the doorway, you wondered if Ben had come back, but instead, you were met with an odd sight. It was Grace, but she didn't look like herself. Her wardrobe and hairstyle look almost cultish and she was missing an eye. As she approached she looked at you, but instead of the empty void you felt a few days ago there was something different behind her eyes now, but whatever it was it made you uneasy. You removed Bren's jacket and tied it tightly around your waist so that Grace could look at all your injuries including the one on your forearm.

You watched carefully as she undressed and cleaned your wounds, the peroxide stinging against your flesh as it seeped into what skin was still left open. At least most of the gashes were close to closing themselves. If there was one thing you appreciated most about your powers it was the regenerative factor. Carefully, she placed new, clean gauze over your injuries and when she was finished she turned away and quietly left.

After a moment you stood up from the bed you were sitting on and walked out of the med bay. Catching a glimpse of yourself as you passed one of the large glass windows in the kitchen you saw the blood that still stained your outfit. Since you felt better, you decided to use your powers to remove the dried blood from your clothes. Changing its state back into liquid, you pulled it out from the fibers of your clothing before floating the mass of old blood over to the sink and sending it down the drain. Now that you were all fixed up though, you weren't quite sure what to do, so you headed downstairs in hopes of finding someone in the house. Not Grace though. Someone other than Grace.

As you went through the hallways the Academy was quiet and felt empty. Even though there were far more people living here now than you had experienced while living here, it still felt so hollow. Walking down the main staircase you looked around the foyer before noticing Ben standing next to the fireplace, looking up at his portrait. Approaching from behind you attempted to initiate a friendlier conversation by jokingly commenting,

"Y'know, you'd be prettier if you smiled."

You watched as Ben slowly turned to look back at you. He seemed confused by your comment as he awkwardly began to smile at you, although it looked more like he was grimacing.

"I meant in the painting." You commented, gesturing toward the picture

"Oh." Ben replied, his grimacey smile dropped as he said "It was a serious portrait."

Walking over to him, you stood by his side and looked up at his portrait. He was so young in it. Granted he wasn't as young as Five was in his, but that didn't make it any better. His eyes were filled with sadness even if his face seemed neutral and his hand gripped the arm of the chair he sat in tightly. Charlie had done this painting and he always painted what he saw. You know that Charlie had mentioned in his journal that he didn't want to paint it given what you had told him about Five's portrait. And you could see why, it was nothing like Charlie's art style. It was somber and dark and what it represented was nothing that either you or him stood for. You looked away from the painting and toward Ben. His face was hardened as he looked at the painted version of himself. You didn't know what he had done this time compared to that of Umbrella Ben but you knew that he didn't deserve this as his consequence.

"Yeah, I know it was." You said quietly "I'm sorry you had to pose for that."

"Sorry?" Ben replied confused before stating "My father honored me with that portrait."

"Benjamin, I want to believe you're smarter than that." You replied "You and I both know, it's not an honor to have your portrait over the fireplace. It's a punishment. A reminder to not step out of line."

"What do you mean?" Ben questioned

"Five had a portrait too. Charlie painted it after he ran away through time, but it wasn't made in memory of him." You explained, "It was a reminder to the rest of the Umbrellas of what happens when you don't listen to Reginald."

Looking away from Ben, your attention turned back to his portrait over the fireplace. As you recalled it was the same spot where Five's portrait hand hung in the first timeline and that of your portrait too earlier in this one. You hated the fireplace portraits, they were nothing but a reminder of the control Reginald had over the Umbrellas, and now the Sparrows too.

"I hated looking at that thing, I thought about burning it every day." You commented

"Did you?" He inquired

"No."

Now it was Ben who looked at you, your eyes trained on the painting of him above the fireplace. The expression on your face was confusing, he couldn't tell if it was sad or angry. Perhaps both. He wondered why if you had hated Five's portrait so much you didn't burn it like you thought about doing. Personally, if he saw Five's portrait he'd consider burning it too, and more than likely he would follow through. Nevertheless, he was still interested in your answer as he questioned,

"Why not?"

"It was one of the only pictures where Five didn't have his mask on." You replied gently "I didn't want to forget his eyes...."

Ben scowled at your comment. Ugh. Why did you have to be so sappy about Five? What was so special about him anyway? Ben hated hearing about him from you. Ben didn't really know the guy, but something about Five just bugged him to his core. All Ben knew was that he was a jumpy little guy, probably the smartest of his siblings, and he was your...ugh...boyfriend. Whatever. Ben didn't want to think about him.

"Maybe you should've burned it if you hated it." Ben remarked

"Maybe I should've since having a portrait isn't a good thing." You replied before adding "The only good thing about your portrait being there is that mine isn't anymore. It's gone."

Ben's scowl faded away as he looked at you confused. Your portrait wasn't gone, it was just moved.

"It's not gone." He mentioned

"It's not?" You asked surprised

"No." Ben explained, "When mine was placed there it was moved to your room."

"Is that so?" You said aloud

All the times you had been at the Academy post 60s time jump you had never gone back into your room. It had never actually crossed your mind to go in there since you assumed someone else would've taken it, but looking back it made far more sense for it to still be there. The Sparrows were told that you would return like some messiah, so of course they would've kept your room untouched. Turning on your heel you walked away from Ben and back towards the foyer. You could hear from behind you as he called out,

"Where are you going?"

But instead of responding, you flashed away to the upstairs hall. Walking down the corridor you passed other bedrooms before arriving at your door. Opening it up, you stepped inside, and if it wasn't for the distinct lack of time travel nausea you would've thought you were thrown right back into the 60s. Just like your room at the hotel, this place was completely frozen in time with everything still untouched in its place except for the distinct portrait that hung on the wall over the bed. It was your portrait. The one Reginald had commissioned Charlie to paint as a birthday gift to you. Stepping toward it you looked at yourself. Well, not really yourself, but the idealized version of you that Reggie wanted you to be. The version he made others, including the Sparrows, think you were. As you stood there looking at practically a stranger with your face, you heard as a recognizable voice commented,

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

Letting out a huff, you turned around to see Charlie sitting on the stool of your vanity.

"Oh jeez." You muttered before remarking "Let me guess, my brain sent you since I shooed the others away?"

"Well, one person is probably easier to handle than six." Charlie responded

"Hallucination." You corrected "Not person."

"Tomato, potato. It's almost the same thing." He replied

You rolled your eyes at the phantom your brain had come up with. While his presence didn't hurt as much because you knew he died of natural causes, it still didn't please you to have your mind playing tricks like this.

"What do you want?" You questioned

"To watch." Hallucination Charlie replied candidly

"Watch what?" You asked confused

"Watch that monstrosity go away." He answered pointing at your portrait "Doesn't take a genius to figure out you'd get rid of this thing the minute you got a chance."

While he was correct that you had been trying to get rid of this portrait ever since you had first saw it, you couldn't do so anymore. Sure, you and Charlie both greatly disliked it, but he had put in the time and effort to paint you. And now that he was gone all that was left of him were the works he created.

"I'm not going to get rid of it. You painted it." You spoke back

"Laaaaameee." Charlie's visage mocked "Can't believe my death made you soft."

"It did not!" You exclaimed annoyed

"Then destroy it- oh what's the word you taught me...oh right!" Charlie retorted "Shitwit."

"Rude." You muttered

"(Y/N), you and I both hate it, so obliterate it. Make sure that by the time you're done, there's nothing left of it. Because that's not you. It's the you Reginald wants you to be, not the one I know you are." Charlie explained

If it wasn't for the fact that you knew he wasn't there, you'd truly believe this was your friend in front of you. He looked like Charlie, he talked like Charlie, he was Charlie without actually being him. You watched as he got up from the stool and stepped over to you. His green eyes were bright and sincere as he placed a hand on your shoulder and said,

"If you're not gonna do it for yourself, then do it for me."

Even if he wasn't here you still couldn't deny a request from your friend especially when you knew that if it was actually him, he would've wanted this too. With a small nod of your head, you replied,

"Okay. I'll do it."

Charlie smiled at you and for a moment you actually managed to smile back at him. You turned away from him and went to open the window of your bedroom, but when you turned around to grab the portrait, he was gone. You let out a little sigh, but you couldn't stop now. Taking the portrait off the wall you began to shove it outside the window.

As you were doing this though, Ben walked into your room. He had assumed you had gone here based on the conversation you had in the parlor, but walking up here took longer than just appearing here like you could. As he entered though, he saw what you were doing and a sense of panic began to flood his system.

"Hey! Hey!" Ben shouted frantically "What are you doing!"

"I'm doing what I should've done the day this was hung." You replied back

With each hand holding one side of the frame you ignited the wood and watched as it spread toward the canvas.

"No stop!" Ben exclaimed rushing over to try and grab at the painting "When I said you should've burned it if you hated it I didn't mean this portrait!"

You didn't listen to his panic though and instead dropped the portrait out of the second-story window and on to the concrete of the courtyard. As it hit the ground, the frame broke into multiple pieces and the canvas ripped into a few parts. The flames that you had ignited slowly started to consume the once-grand painting until all that was left was flickering embers. You looked over at Ben with a neutral expression while he looked back in horrified shock.

"Are you crazy?! That was a masterpiece! It was an irreplaceable piece of art! You destroyed it like it was nothing!" Ben ranted

He couldn't believe what you had just done. That portrait was one of a kind. None of the other portraits that Mr. Anderson had done even came close to the quality of yours. Out of all the paintings in the Academy, including his own, yours was his favorite. It was colorful, and detailed, and lively. To him, it was like a bright spot in an otherwise dreary house and now it was gone. He looked at you waiting for some type of explanation, which he got in the form of you stating,

"It's what Charlie wanted."

Ben couldn't believe you. How did you know this is what Mr. Anderson would've wanted? Yes, Ben knew that you were his friend back in the '60s, but he died before you returned. How could you be sure that he would want his work of art to be destroyed? Surely, if it was up to Ben he wouldn't have destroyed it. It was a work unlike any other. If it was his painting, he would've shown the world how magnificent it was rather than leaving it in the shadows. Not knowing what to say to you, Ben gave one last look at the ashes of the portrait before walking away from you and leaving to go to his room.

You watched as he left, unsure of why he was so upset over the painting. It was technically your birthday gift so you could do whatever you wanted with it, but you didn't feel good upsetting him. Sure he was kinda a jerk, but he was probably just misguided by his upbringing, and once again, he looked genuinely hurt by your actions when you were trying your best to be nice. Was your grief making it difficult to be nice or was his background stopping him from accepting a little kindness? He was so back and forth that you couldn't tell. It was like there were two versions of him fighting inside for who got to be present in the moment, a kinder, gentler Ben versus the colder, more abrasive one. Nevertheless, you felt it was only right to try and smooth things over, again, given that he was more tolerable when he wasn't in a mood. Following his path, you stepped into the hallway of bedrooms and saw that only one was closed. Approaching the door, you knocked on it gently as you called,

"Benjamin."

"Go away." He responded

"Okay, yeah that's not how this works." You stated before phasing through the door

Ben turned around in his desk chair to look at you as he complained,

"God, what do you want?"

You didn't respond to him though as you took a look around his room. It was different than that of his room in the Umbrella timeline. First of all, this room was bigger than what your Ben had. It took you a moment to realize, but a wall must've been knocked down since half of this room was what used to be Viktor's in the old timeline. This Ben also had a poster of himself over his bed which is something your Ben definitely didn't. But the biggest difference was what covered the walls of the room. Instead of shelves of books and walls filled with notes, the walls were covered in art. Sketches, drawings, and a few watercolors were plastered across the space.

"I see why you're so upset about the painting." You said aloud "You're an artist this time."

"What do you mean this time?" Ben questioned irritated

"My Ben was more of a writer. He also read a lot. He just loved literature." You explained nostalgically "When he was alive we'd talk about the stories he was reading for hours. And after he passed I used to go into the courtyard where his memorial statue was and read his favorite books. I liked to think that he was on the other side listening and that neither of us was alone."

Ben went quiet upon hearing your response. Without even knowing it, you had stated the reason why he was so upset you burned the painting. Even though he hadn't met you until recently, he had enjoyed talking to your painting. He'd sit on the floor of your room describing his drawings and holding them up from time to time. Your smiling face in the painting was usually the only positive interaction he had, and just like you with the other Ben's statue, he liked to think you had been listening on the other side and that neither of you was alone.

Ben turned back around in his seat, facing his desk full of sketches once more as he tried to shove his feelings down. It was how he was taught to deal with difficulty. It was supposed to make him stronger according to his father, but usually, it just turned people away. He was difficult. At least that's what he had heard a lot from others before they left. He wasn't really sure if he knew any other way to be since no one stuck around to show him any different, but after years of people walking away from him, he was prepared for it to happen. And yet, he didn't want you to go. He wanted you to stay. Maybe instead of holding it in, he might just give it a try to say what's on his mind.

"Y'know you're wrong." Ben mentioned quietly "I'm not upset because I'm an artist."

"Why are you upset then?" You inquired

"Because that painting was the equivalent of your statue to me," Ben answered honestly

As the words left his mouth, you could feel your gut drop. You recalled how heartbroken you were when Luther and Diego broke Ben's statue. It was like killing your friend all over again, and now you had done the same to Ben. Sure you didn't know what it meant to him, but that wasn't a good enough excuse. You had seen him try to stop you and you kept going anyway. Oh god, what had you done?

"I'm so sorry, Benjamin." You apologized "I- I didn't think anyone cared about it."

"I did." Ben stated "But it's just a painting. I'll live."

"I'm still sorry, but we could make a new one. I see that your forte is drawing people." You commented trying to make things better

We? Ben was positive he had heard you correctly and you said we. Not he could make a new one. We could make a new one. Quickly, he turned around to look at you as he questioned,

"You can draw?"

Like everyone else you technically could draw, but when people asked 'can you do x thing?' they typically were asking if you could do that thing well. Your drawing skills were not on par with your piano, your dance, or your science abilities except for one instance and so you hesitantly responded,

"Uh...yes and no."

"I'm not sure I'm following." Ben replied confused

"The only things I can draw well are buildings and buildings interiors." You elaborated "But people, animals, plants- pretty much if it breaths I can't draw it."

"You were friends for years with an artist that my father deemed worthy enough to do all the portraits of the Sparrow Academy and you didn't pick up anything from him?" Ben questioned

His tone didn't sound condescending, but the question certainly did. Yes, you were friends with a talented and successful artist like Charlie, but that didn't mean it made you good as well. The only reason you could draw buildings and interiors was because that was a byproduct of your childhood. Maybe it wasn't his intention, but the question did make you feel bad as you looked at the art around his room.

"Uh, not particularly. While he would draw people or comic book characters I would be drawing rooms and buildings." You answered awkwardly "But with art of this quality that probably sounds pathetic to you."

Ben noticed your shift in demeanor. Had he upset you? He wasn't trying to. He was just curious. Jayme had always told him he had a tone issue though, but he never really understood what that meant until now. Trying to course correct Ben quickly shot back,

"No."

"No?" You hesitantly questioned

"Look around." Ben said gesturing to his art "You see any backgrounds?"

You looked around once more and he was right, there were no backgrounds it was all just people. All the faces were strangers to you though. Even with no backgrounds the skill he had in drawing people was still enough for you to doubt your own artistic ability. Art wasn't your main skill, you didn't practice it often like you did with your other talents, you just had muscle memory from copying your mom and enough upkeep to not permanently lose what you learned.

"You could still probably draw a better background than I could draw a portrait." You stated

"Is that a challenge?" Ben asked

What? A challenge? He thought your compliment was a challenge? How warped had Reginald made his worldview that not even a simple compliment could be accepted without the prospect of proving himself? While you knew it was probably a developed trait and maybe even a coping mechanism to hide some insecurity of his, it was still annoying and triggered your underlying competitive nature.

"No, I was actually trying to be nice to you since I had upset you, but fuck it, it's a challenge now." You remarked back "You draw me and the part of the room behind me and I draw you and the room behind you, and whoever has the better overall drawing wins."

While Ben felt awkward that he had misinterpreted your kindness as competition, he didn't mind this new outcome. He liked seeing the fire in your eyes about proving yourself. It reminded him of himself and he liked the feeling in his chest that he shared something with you.

"You're on." Ben replied, a smirk coming to his face

Turning back around he grabbed a sketchbook, flipping it to an open page before picking up a pencil and an eraser. Turning back around he extended it toward you for you to take. Once the items were in your grasp he stood from the desk chair grabbing another set of the same items before walking over to his bed and taking a seat. He watched as you pulled the desk chair closer to the bed and sat down on the seat across from him. Getting yourself settled, you looked toward him as you asked,

"Is there a time limit?"

"And rush the art?" Ben remarked back "No. Just draw until you're finished."

"Okay, jeez." You replied looking back down at the sketchpad "It was just a question..."

As you looked away, an awkward expression came to Ben's face. Did he really have that bad of a tone issue? He was just answering your question. Nevertheless, his attention turned toward his own sketchpad as the two of you began to draw.

The room was quiet as the both of you worked on your pieces, the only sound to be heard was that of pencils moving across sketchpads. Occasionally, each of you would look up from your papers, your gazes seemingly alternating as you both attempted to copy down the sight before you.

Drawing the room came easy to you. You had sketching the lines and angles of the bedroom and its objects down to a science. Every stroke of the pencil was intentional and the way you blended out the pencil marks in specific spots was methodic. You looked down at your hands and the dark graphite smudges covering your fingertips and softly smiled. Your hands looked like that of your mom's. Your mom the architect, the designer. Looking at your hands, it felt like a piece of her came back to life if only for a moment. But that moment was fleeting. Your drawing was nice to be sure, and if an average person saw it they'd probably be impressed, but it still wasn't close to the level of skill your mom had. And unfortunately, you'd never get to learn her tricks because she was gone.

Looking down at your drawing it was almost complete except for the blank oval in the middle of the page where you were supposed to draw Ben. You already knew this wasn't going to go well, but you still had to try. If there was ever a time for a hallucination version of Charlie to appear it was now, so he could give you advice on how to not fuck this up. But alas, he decided not to show so you were left to your own devices. Trying your best to remember what he would do, you started out with just a bunch of shapes in the general form of a body. Somehow, even though it was just shapes, it already looked bad. Your only hope was that by adding details it would somehow come together, so you started by drawing his polo shirt, his pants, and his hair.

And then you came to his face. You tried your best to capture his features, but with his head constantly being down looking at his paper all you could see was the right side of his face. Part of you wanted to draw an angry frowny face and call it a day but the detail-oriented part of you wouldn't let it happen. You saw as he looked up at you for a moment before turning his head back down, but in that moment you briefly caught sight of something on his left cheek. Leaning forward, you gently reached a hand out to try and tilt his face toward you, but the second your fingers brushed his skin Ben pulled back. With his gaze on you, you clearly saw what had caught your attention. It was a scar. Pulling your hand back slightly, you looked back at him waiting for him to say something.

But Ben didn't respond, he only looked at you shocked. The thing was, he wasn't shocked that you had touched him. Plenty of people had touched him before, whether it was his siblings in training, an enemy he was fighting, a persistent fan who just had to get their hands on him, or one of the girls at the clubs he would go to with Christopher, whose name he had forgotten right after they said it. He was no stranger to unexpected touch, but all those times it was aggressive, demanding, rough. But your touch, it was gentle.

No one had ever done that before...

"I just wanted to see it for my drawing." You said quietly

There was that sincerity in your tone again. Something about it made him pause and as his eyes darted over your face, he could see that your expression seemed almost worried, as if you were concerned you had scared him. You hadn't, at least not in the way you probably thought you did. It wasn't your action that had worked up his nerves, but the feeling he got from it. He felt fuzzy inside. Slowly, he leaned his face back toward your hand before hesitating. He wanted to feel your touch again, but for a moment his brain wondered if this was some type of scheme to catch him off guard. He looked at you once more, but your expression was the same worried look as you softly added,

"I wasn't gonna hurt you."

As you said those words Ben felt a twinge of...regret. It was an odd feeling since he had only felt this way a few times before, but the feeling was there. As your hand slowly began to pull back, he quickly leaned in, causing your fingertips to touch his scar once more.

You now looked at him shocked, your fingers pulling just centimeters away from his face, but quickly you realized what his action meant. It meant he trusted you. He trusted you wouldn't hurt him. It felt like a bit of a switch-up from the Ben you had interacted with thus far but, you were the type to reciprocate energy. If he was going to trust you a little, you could trust him back. Gently, you placed the tips of your middle and ring finger back on his cheek as you carefully traced his scar. Ben closed his eyes as your fingers brushed the permanent mark on his face. For once, he seemed calm. You wondered if he had ever actually felt calm before. You knew from the Umbrellas that the life of a Hargreeves was not one that knew peace, and with the way the Sparrows were you could only assume the concept of peace was even more foreign and warped to them. As you looked over his scar you wondered how he got it.

"Hmm." You hummed

"What?" Ben asked, his eyes opening back up to look at you

"It's odd." You stated, "We don't typically do this."

"We?" Ben questioned curiously

"I've found it's rare for people like us, people with powers, to have visible scars." You commented, "Whatever happened, it must've been pretty bad to leave a lasting mark."

Ben looked down as he recalled the circumstances in which he got his scar. Even years after it happened he tried not to remember that day given its significance, but he couldn't help it. The memory flashed in his mind like a cruel reminder of his greatest mistake.

"Yeah...it was bad." Ben mumbled, "I failed."

"Was it the Jennifer Incident?" You asked

Ben looked up at you, the traces of hurt he felt from his memory quickly dissipating as he looked at you confused.

"No? I don't even know a Jennifer." Ben stated before asking "What is that?"

You looked back at him nervously. You had assumed that his scar was a different result of whatever happened to your Ben in the Jennifer Incident. Your Ben died, but this one did something different and managed to make it out with only a scar. But obviously from his response that wasn't the case.

"(Y/N), what's the Jennifer Incident?" Ben asked again

"It's uh-" You hesitantly responded "It's how Ben died."

"What happened?" Ben pressed

Pulling your hand back from Ben's face, you sat back in your seat, looked at the floor for a moment, and let out a small sigh. And as you looked back up at him, he could see grief in your eyes, similar to the look you had when he first found you at the warehouse.

"That's the thing. I don't know. No one would tell me anything except that it was a tragedy." You explained sadly

You looked around Sparrow Ben's room. You had to look anywhere but at him. He had everything of your Ben's. His face, his voice, his name, and yet he was still practically a stranger. The worst part though was that even though he was a stranger in your friend's body, you could see flickers of your Ben in him. There was his care and concern somewhere in there. His sense of understanding peeked through the bars of the tough persona Sparrow Ben put on. But it was the way he listened to you, that reminded you of Ben the most. It was so easy the way you could just start rambling to your Ben, and he sat listening and engaged, and somehow this one was the same. He was listening when no one else was.

"I asked Diego a few times over the years thinking that it was my age that was the issue. Y'know, don't tell a traumatized thirteen-year-old how their friend died. But when I got the same script over and over, I kinda stopped asking." You continued

"Same script?" Ben questioned

As you thought back to those times you asked you could feel a mix of emotions build in you. There was the obvious grief remembering your friend who was gone, especially when you were sitting across from someone who shared his name, and face, and currently a part of his personality you missed. Then there was the frustration that you never learned what happened. And finally the anger at the response that you were always given.

"Yeah." You scoffed before reciting in a mocking tone "It was a tragic accident. Ben died because we failed as a team. Nobody was responsible yet we all were responsible. Ben Hargreeves represented the best of us. Ben was the Umbrella Academy."

Crossing your arms over your chest your eyes finally met Ben's once more. The amalgamation of your feelings reflecting on your face as you complained,

"It's a bunch of avoidant bullshit if you ask me."

You looked away again as silence took over the room. Your mind wandering away from thinking about Ben's death and instead focusing on Diego's resistance to tell you what happened. All the times you asked, he could've just stated what happened, but instead, he always recited the same stupid script. Your eyes moved to the floor and your voice was low as you broke the silence mentioning,

"I guess he never trusted me enough to tell me the truth..."

As Ben saw the change in your demeanor he could feel a tightness build in his chest. It was similar to the feeling he got when his Dad would reprimand the Sparrows after a mission, but not quite the same. There was that feeling of something wrong, but less in a disappointment way and more of a drive to do something. He wasn't particularly interested in having you reconcile with the Umbrellas, they were assholes and the less you wanted to be around them the more time you would spend with him. However, he still felt inclined to do something. Trying to change the subject, he switched back to the original topic as he inquired,

"So what about you?"

"What about me?" You asked confused, looking back at him

"So you don't have scars?" Ben asked

"Oh. Typically no." You answered before explaining "When I was sixteen I tore up the entire left side of my face. It was really bad, but by the next morning it was like it never happened."

"What happened?" Ben asked

"It was..." You began to speak

But then you stopped as you recalled that day, the memories playing in your mind like a bad movie. As you shut your eyes you could hear Diego and Eudora's voices shouting at each other. You could see the anger on their faces and the hurt in their eyes as the fought. A chill ran down your spine as you remembered the cold downpour of rain that washed over you are you rode your bike away from the scene and you winced as you recalled the pain of your face scraping against concrete.

Ben watched as you winced and your expression filled with pain. He already could tell that whatever you were remembering, it wasn't good. It was the same way he'd react to his bad memories before he started pushing down the feeling. Shit. He was trying to make you feel better, not worse. God, why was he so bad at trying to be good? You made it look so easy.

"Forget I asked." Ben quickly dismissed

Opening your eyes, you looked back at him as you tried to push the thoughts away.

"No, it's fine. It was...it was an accident." You finished answering before redirecting the conversation "But I mean, I do have these few scars from earlier when the Kugelblitz tore into me. They've already begun to heal over though."

You gestured toward the bandages that covered your gashes. Your injuries didn't sting much anymore, but when you moved the parts of your body they were on you could still tell they were there. Pulling the bandaging off your cheek you showed Ben the scar that was there. You watched as Ben reached his hand out slightly before pausing.

"Can I?" Ben asked

You nodded your head and Ben fully reached his hand out to trace your scar just as you had done to him. In a way, you were like him the way you were marked by a tragic event. Your scar was noticeable but faded like his, but while his scar curved downward yours went across your cheek. However, he had his scar for years while yours was apparently only acquired this morning and yet they were the same amount of healed. He wondered why others' injuries faded away so quickly while he was stuck with a constant reminder of his failure. Then again, was it actually easier to move on from a failure by having all reminders of that pain fade away quickly or would that lack of healing cause more pain in the long run? Either way, you both had been hurt by life and it seemed like neither of you was quite as healed as you liked to think you were.

"It's so faded." Ben commented

"Yeah," You responded "It'll be gone soon enough, like it never happened."

"But it did." Ben stated gently

You looked at him. His tone wasn't harsh when he said it, on the contrary, his tone was actually empathetic, but it hit you like a ton of bricks. It did happen. You may not physically bear your scars but they were there. These moments in time that had hurt you were real. They happened.

"It did." You said quietly

As Ben looked back at you, his expression was neutral, but you could almost see the corners of his mouth curve up as he mentioned,

"Well, until then it seems we're matching."

"Yeah, I guess we are" You replied before asking "Should we finish drawing?"

"Huh?" Ben said confused

"Should we finish drawing or have you given up on competing?" You taunted, gesturing to the sketchbooks in each of your laps

Ben looked down at his sketchbook before looking back at you. He had completely forgotten all about drawing, but as he heard the taunt in your tone his competitive spirit came back in full force.

"Absolutely not." Ben scoffed

"Then get drawing, Benjamin." You remarked as you picked back up your sketchbook

As your head tilted down to look back at your drawing, Ben picked his pencil and sketchbook back up and began to draw once more. Finishing the details of the wall behind you, he started to work on drawing you, but as he did so he noticed details he hadn't before. He noticed the way your hair fell around your face and how you kept having to push a particular strand out of the way. He noticed the way your eyebrows scrunched and how you bit your bottom lip when you were thinking about something. He noticed the way sunlight from the window fell on you giving you a golden glow. He noticed you. And so he drew what he saw, but it was a tedious process as he felt what he had created wasn't exactly right. He wanted the details he noticed to reflect on the page, but it took time and time again for him to feel what he had created was good enough. His poor eraser had been absolutely demolished between all the revisions he had made, but at a certain point, he finally felt happy with what he had created. And when he looked up from his sketchbook he saw you sitting there twirling your pencil between your fingers.

Seeing Ben look toward you, you assumed he was most likely done as you asked,

"Finished?"

"Yeah." He responded

"Alright then, you go first." You commented

You watched as Ben turned around his sketchbook to show you his drawing and when you saw it you were highly impressed. The background of his drawing wasn't quite as detailed or emphasized as yours was, but it certainly showed his skill for perspective. Where he really focused his detailing though was his drawing of you. It was quite different from drawings you had seen of yourself before. Most of them had been made by Charlie, and while he was a master of realism he typically drew you very stylized, like a comic book character. Ben's drawing however was somewhere in the middle, it wasn't quite one-to-one realism, but you could definitely tell that it was you. A very pretty version of you nonetheless.

"Wow, the only other person to ever draw me was Charlie,' You mentioned, "Your style is so different from his."

"Why? Is it bad?" Ben questioned

"No, it's amazing!" You replied enthusiastically "If only you could pursue art full-time. I think you'd really go far."

Ben paused a moment. He never really thought about life outside the Sparrow Academy. The Sparrow Academy was his everything. He was always told that his only responsibility was protecting the world so the thought of doing anything else seemed farfetched. Did you really think he could succeed at anything other than being a superhero?

"You think so?" Ben asked sincerely

"I know so." You stated confidently

It was odd. The confidence in your answer made Ben want to believe you, but believing you that he could succeed at something other than being a Sparrow meant that the last 29 years of his life were mostly a waste. And that was a thought he didn't want to confront. Pushing the topic away, Ben replied,

"Okay. Your turn."

"Right!" You exclaimed as you looked at your drawing

You looked at the details of the room you had drawn and you knew they would make your mom proud. Not that she ever wasn't proud of you, she always was, but knowing you were able to mimic her passion if only for a moment felt good. But then you looked at your drawing of Ben and...

Fuck.

He looked like a poorly drawn anime character...if you could even call it that. It was only comparable to when the Ouran High School Host Club characters were drawn with less detail to be funny. Except they had done that on purpose, and you, you definitely had not. Why did you let your competitive nature get the best of you? Why did you agree to this? You knew you couldn't draw people. This was a bad idea from the start. Granted the room you drew looked great, but the messy figure in the center really retracted from it. Letting out a defeated sigh you slowly turned the sketchbook around to show Ben and watched his face go through a journey as he looked at it.

"You're right. You are good at drawing rooms. The details are lifelike." Ben commented

You could tell his comment was genuine, but you could feel him holding back more thoughts. Surprised that he hadn't outright insulted your work, you prompted him to speak,

"But?"

"I don't look like that." Ben remarked flatly

"I told you I'm not good at drawing people!" You shot back defensively "I can only do backgrounds."

"And I said the background is good!" Ben responded, "It's just I've seen better art of myself before..."

"You know what?" You questioned snarkily "You wanna know what you really look like?"

"What do I really look like?" Ben inquired sarcastically

Angrily you flipped to the next page of the sketchbook as you quickly scribbled a drawing on it. It was not detailed in the slightest, but it was far more accurate.

"Like this." You stated

As you turned the notebook around, Ben saw your new drawing of him. It was a crudely drawn octopus with an angry frowny face. Ha ha. How clever.

"I definitely don't look like that." Ben replied unamused

"Yes, you do." You remarked playfully, as you held the drawing up next to his face "Your face is doing the same angry scrunch now."

"Whatever." Ben dismissed before asking "So if art is my thing, what's yours?"

"Well, I'm good at a lot of things."

"Well drawing people surely isn't on that list." Ben joked

"Shut up!" You snapped before calmly adding "But piano is the one I'm known for."

Ben recalled moments throughout his life when he heard mentions of your musical ability. He remembered a time when he and his siblings were pressing keys on the piano in the parlor, and when their father heard he stated they shouldn't even try to learn because it wouldn't compare to your ability. There were also the times when Pogo played his classical music records and would tell the Sparrows of his memories of you playing piano for him when he was a young chimp and how lovely the music was. Your ability to play piano was always described as something incredible and he always imagined being able to hear it himself.

"Oh, right." Ben commented "I bet you play beautifully,"

Ben paused. That was weird. Why did he say that? Trying to move away from it, Ben quickly added,

"So I've heard at least..."

"I can show you." You offered

"I'd like that." Ben replied gently

Your lips upturned into a small smile. You liked being around him a lot more when he was kind like this. It reminded you of Ben. Standing up from your seat you extended your hand out toward him.

Gently, he took your hand. He sat still for a moment letting the electricity of your touch flow through him. Your skin was soft and so was the way you held his hand. Ben felt as you pulled his hand closer to you, beckoning him to stand. Standing up he looked down at you, a tender smile on his face and he continued to hold your hand. It felt like a bright warmth surrounded the two of you as you stood together. However, just as soon as he was standing, your hand pulled away and as you turned to walk away, the warmth of being close to you faded. Although you couldn't see it, his smile dropped for a moment. He liked being close to you.

As you made it to Ben's bedroom doorway you turned back to look at him only to find that he wasn't following you. Weird. You thought you were going to show him your piano skills. Your head tilted slightly as you asked confused,

"Are we going to the piano together or not?"

Together.

Ben perked up at that word. His small smile returned as he walked over to you and replied,

"Absolutely. Let's go."

But while you made your way down to the parlor, Five was stuck in the lobby of the Hotel Obsidian. After everyone had left, Five had sat and waited at the bar for the time when Viktor would bring Harlan down for the trade with the Sparrows. Even with Viktor's rude comments earlier, Five could understand the difficulty of giving Harlan up. Viktor cared for him and while that was nice it definitely wasn't worth sending the entire world down the drain over. Harlan had apparently caused some difficulties to the point that the Sparrows were willing to work with the Umbrellas if Harlan was sacrificed. And so he had to be. There was no other way.

Sipping on another drink Five wondered where you were. You could've gone back to Kenny's house since you always mentioned in your diary that it was the main hangout spot for your group. But then again, that could be upsetting since there were so many memories there. Or perhaps you had gone back to your childhood home. It was completely empty given the fact that your parents never got a chance to meet in this timeline, but maybe there was still some comfort to be found there. Or you were somewhere that he couldn't even predict. Wherever you were he just hoped you were okay. He couldn't stop thinking about worst-case scenarios and all the ways he could lose you, especially after finding out his Commission Founder self failed to keep you alive.

Five could feel his heartbeat pick up slightly as the words his Founder self had written began to run through his mind once more. Rolling up his sleeve he looked at the phone number on his arm. You told him to only call in an emergency. Did his worry for you, his need to hear your voice and know you're alive, constitute an emergency? Currently, nothing was wrong.

Except for him.

He felt like his head was being pulled in a million different directions. The apocalypse. Witnessing his death. Your safety. His siblings' antics. Trading Harlan. Anticipating what comes next. The challenges he faced, the worlds he kept creating and erasing in his mind, they were exhausting. It felt like he didn't even have a moment to spare for himself. A moment to think. A moment to breathe. Every time he got one of those they immediately slipped away. All he did was survive and even then, another version of him didn't make it. Would he?

Five tried to push the thought from his mind. He couldn't question it, he had to survive. He had to survive for the same reason he always did. You. Carefully, he pulled the ring he had found out of his pocket. Trying to calm himself, Five looked at the ring in his palm and envisioned a life of mundane joys with you. Grocery shopping, taxes, household chores, taking a walk in the park. God, it seemed so nice. If he had one hope, one wish, it was to be able to live a simple life with you. His mind wandered to thoughts of better days and simple times by your side, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Luther asking,

"Viktor come by yet?"

Pulled from his thoughts, Five looked up as he saw Luther walking toward the bar. Quickly, he shoved the ring back into his pocket. The last thing he needed was Luther seeing it and asking him questions.

"Oh- uh- no." Five replied trying to collect himself "Not yet."

"Well, I'm sure they'll come around soon." Luther stated as he finally reached the bar

Five nodded his head at Luther's statement, but did not have much of a response to add. His head was still trying to switch gears from thinking about you to thinking about the apocalypse again. There was a silence between the two brothers as they stood by the bar together. It wasn't particularly awkward, but it wasn't enjoyable either.

Luther looked around at the space. Just mere hours ago he had gained and then lost a son and then was told that he didn't know what family meant and that he was a selfish, stunted adult. So far, today was not great. Your words had stuck with him though. Did he know what it meant to actually be a family? Had the Umbrella Academy ever really been a family to each other? There was only one period of time where he truly felt connected to his siblings and that was when everyone was the same age and they had you as a friend. Your words were hurtful, but were they true?

"Hey, Five?" Luther asked breaking the silence

"Hmm?" Five hummed in response

"Do you...do you think what (Y/N) said is true?" Luther hesitantly questioned

"Be more specific." Five replied, "She said a lot of stuff to a lot of people."

"The whole family thing..." Luther quietly replied, "You think she's right?"

"Well, I never think she's wrong." Five stated

Five's response wasn't what Luther was looking for. He wanted more of an explanation of why you would think that, and to his knowledge, no one knew you better than Five. He waited a moment to see if Five would elaborate, but when no elaboration came Luther pried harder,

"Yeah but like we are a family, aren't we?"

"In namesake I suppose." Five responded flatly

"What about beyond that?" Luther pressed "Y'know connection wise? We're siblings aren't we?"

"We are." Five answered before adding "But if what she said bothers you this much that means some part of you believes she might be right."

Luther shifted uncomfortably as guilt began to grow inside him. The feeling settled in his gut as he was forced to confront the reality of his relationships with his siblings and the way he treated them. And you.

"Maybe..." Luther replied, his voice low "I just...I don't understand what the difference is between her definition and ours."

While Luther may have forgotten what the difference between you and his siblings was, Five never forgot. That difference was what kept him going in his darkest of times. And if the truth of this difference would get Luther to reflect on himself rather than trying to get some type of relief for his cognitive dissonance out of Five then he needed to hear it.

"The difference is love, Luther." Five explained seriously, looking him dead in the eyes "We were raised on conditions and achievements and outcomes, but she was raised with unconditional love. We expect results from each other, her only expectation is to be loved back."

As he heard those words, Luther went quiet. His mind replaying moments with you from across his life. He recalled how nice you were when you were both children and the way you'd listen to his interest in space and encourage him to talk about it more. You constantly told him you were proud of him while his father never even uttered those words once. When Luther was happy, you were happy. He then thought about how you had acted when you were different ages. If he was cold to you, you were cold to him, and if he was kind so were you. You always gave back what you were given, but even so, you were still willing to help. You still cared. You always cared. But, besides Five and until recently Diego, they treated you like some type of stepping stone. You were a means to an end. There was no question about it...

You were right.

You had loved them and they just used you. They used each other. If they weren't a family then what were they to each other? What is family anyway? However, before the thought could eat at him more, Klaus sauntered up to the bar to join him and Five. Looking between his brothers, Klaus asked,

"What are we hanging around here for again?"

"Viktor and Harlan." Five responded, "Remember?"

"Oh right." Klaus recalled

Reaching over the bar, Klaus grabbed himself a drink before hopping on the bar top and sitting crisscross on it. A silence fell over the three Hargreeves brothers as they waited for Viktor, but it didn't last long as the ding of the elevator rang through the empty lobby. The trio looked out at the lobby and watched as Viktor began to walk past the bar. Seeing Viktor, Five walked away from the bar with Luther close behind.

"Hey." Five gently called out "It's time."

Hearing Five's voice, Viktor stopped in place. For the past few hours, he had been working out this plan to get Harlan to safety, but through it all he had forgotten to come up with what he was going to say. Freezing up, he could only stare at his brothers in silence.

Not seeing him with Viktor, Five looked back toward the elevators for where Harlan could be. He was an old man after all, he couldn't be far. But as he glanced at the back part of the lobby no one was there. Looking back at Viktor, Five asked confused,

"Where's Harlan?"

Still not knowing what to say, Viktor bluntly stated,

"He's gone."

Hearing those words, Luther immediately knew what had happened. It was honestly stupid of him and the rest of his siblings to think Viktor would do anything other than this. And in a way, this proved your point from earlier even more to Luther. You said they only cared to help each other when they needed something and that they were all selfish. Once again, you were right.

"You let him go, didn't you?" Luther stated

Realizing what was going on, Five looked at Viktor a mix of shock and disappointment on his face. How could Viktor do this? He was risking the sake of the world and the safety of everyone left in it for one insignificant person. This trade was supposed to be their entry into accessing the Kugelblitz and Viktor selfishly threw it away. If the Kugelblitz continued who knew what could happen to people? Who knew what could happen to you. Frustrated, Five turned his back to Viktor. He couldn't stand to look at him right now.

Viktor however was not of the same mindset. He knew his siblings would be upset, but it wasn't worth it to him to trade Harlan to the Sparrows.

"Harlan's death is not gonna stop the Kugelblitz. It's just gonna be another tragedy on a tragedy, and we can find another..." Viktor immediately defended "I will find another way."

"Well, congratulations, Viktor." Luther retorted "You managed to destroy everything. Again."

To Luther, your point of view was becoming ever more clear, and if there was any love between the Hargreeves siblings there certainly wasn't a visible amount of it. And just like you, he didn't want to be here anymore. He'd far rather spend his time with someone who actually cared about his feelings. Sloane. With an annoyed shake of his head, he walked off toward the front doors and out of the hotel.

Five watched as Luther walked away and for only a moment turned to look back at Viktor. He didn't have many words to say, but one thought did linger.

"I really thought you were smarter than that." Five said disappointed

With a roll of his eyes, Viktor silently walked off. Taking a few steps forward, Five watched as Viktor walked out the doors leaving the hotel. And then there were two. From behind him, Five could hear as Klaus sarcastically commented,

"Well! That went great!"

Five knew that Klaus' comment was sarcastic in nature, but it didn't stop the disappointment at how unfortunate this was. With one person's decision their whole entry into saving the world, again, was gone. Five wished that for once his siblings wouldn't stall or roadblock saving the world, but unfortunately, it seemed that was not something they were capable of. And while he already agreed with your opinion on his family, this just made him empathize with it more. Slowly turning around, he saw as Klaus took an actual seat at the bar rather than on it and reached for a nearby bottle of vodka. Feeling confused and defeated Five made his way over to the bar and sat in the seat next to Klaus. He watched as his brother grabbed two shot glasses and poured heavy-handed drinks into them.

"There." Klaus stated, sliding one of the glasses over to Five

"Thanks." Five replied

Today was a mess. Granted, most days of his life were a mess, but somehow today felt so much worse. He found out he created the Commission to save you, he found out that he was unsuccessful and you died, he watched you get torn apart by the Kugelblitz and lose all your friends, he watched your relationship with the rest of his siblings dissolve and you walk away from the Hargreeves family. And while all of those distressed him there was something about facing his own mortality that truly haunted him. Seeing his death forced him to confront his failures. If that version of him went to so many lengths to save you and the world and yet he still died old and alone, where did that leave him?

"I saw my future self die." Five mentioned quietly

"That's crazy. Almost the exact same thing happened to me." Klaus explained "But I didn't die, but I did, but..."

"He told me not to save the world. And then he died." Five spoke at the same time as Klaus

"I don't know..." Klaus added

"What do you think he meant by that?" Five questioned

Hearing each other's statements the two of them looked at each other with slight confusion.

"Well, shouldn't you know?" Klaus asked

"Shouldn't you know about your-" Five began to ask back

However, as he saw Klaus raise his shot glass he realized it wasn't worth it to ask and dropped the topic. Picking up his shot glass he gestured it toward his brother as he said,

"Salut."

"Well, up your ass." Klaus chimed back

Five shot Klaus a look as Klaus downed his shot, but instead of lifting his own glass up to his lips Five instead let some of his thoughts tumble out. Typically, he would tell you these things, but since you were gone he needed someone to listen to him.

"Klaus, I've dedicated my entire life to stopping the apocalypse. Apocalypses, plural. And he tells me..."

"Mm-hmm?" Klaus encourages

"That it's... it's, what? It's meaningless?" Five questioned aloud as he continued explaining

"Oh, well, I don't know anything- " Klaus mentioned as he refilled his shot glass

"Maybe that's his way of saying not to become him, but..." Five trailed off

Letting out a heavy sigh, Five finally downed his shot of vodka. Maybe the alcohol could help him feel better, but he doubted it. It numbed his pain, but it never made it go away. The only thing that could truly make him forget about his pain was you.

"Oh, you're really messed up about this, huh?" Klaus commented

He was more than messed up about it, he was pretty much wrecked by it. His founder self had failed his mission and died, and now here he was on the same path practically doomed to repeat history if he didn't find some type of way to change things soon.

"I've cheated time so much, I guess I just figured I'd somehow cheat death." Five elaborated "But it turns out, I die alone as a one-armed nightmare inside a bureaucratic hellscape of my own design."

"Spoiler alert!" Klaus exclaimed trying to lighten the mood

Five didn't pick up on it though as he was still stuck in his own head. Reaching into his suit pocket he pulled out the tattooed piece of skin he had cut off his Founder self, placed it on the bar, and remarked,

"Not to mention the trashy tattoo."

"Is this your skin?" Klaus asked intrigued as he poked at the cut flesh

"I'll be damned if I go out with an old man tramp stamp." Five retorted

"If you don't wanna end up like this guy, why don't you just do something completely different?" Klaus suggested enthusiastically "Completely different- Move upstate, lose your virginity, become an alpaca farmer. I think (Y/N) would like alpacas."

Five thought about what Klaus had said. He could do something different. And living on a farm with you did sound pretty nice. Just doing anything with you besides the apocalypse sounded nice.

"Yeah, I could. The timeline's malleable. We've proven that much. I could try and break the cycle, but-" Five began to reply before cutting himself off and asking "Wait what was that second part?"

"Don't worry about it. You'll get there on your own." Klaus reassured, "Listen, just keep your arms and extremities away from sharp objects, and don't join the Mothers of Agony."

"What?" Five asked confused

"The tattoo." Klaus explained, "It's the symbol of the biker gang, the Mothers of Agony."

Picking up his Founder self's skin he looked at the symbol tattooed onto it again as he questioned,

"You know them?"

"Like two timelines ago, they were...how do I put it?" Klaus elaborated "My farmacistas."

Finding this out, the wheels in Five's head began to turn. He may have lost access to the Kugelblitz, but maybe someone in the Mothers of Agony could help him out. If his Founder self had been marked with their symbol it meant there was at least one person there who could give him some insight on how to fix this mess. Rolling the tattooed skin up, he placed it back in his pocket as he stated,

"This is good."

Five began to step away from the bar, but before he could get too far he realized he had no clue where the Mothers of Agony were. Turning on his heel he looked at Klaus again who was already pouring himself another shot.

"Wait..." Five asked, "Where are they located?"

"Corner of Morgan and Grove Street." Klaus answered, "Pretty hard to miss with all the bikes outside."

"Thank you, Klaus."

Leaving Klaus behind at the bar Five quickly blinked outside the hotel. Rushing to the sidewalk he stuck out his hand and hailed an oncoming cab. Before the cab even came to a full stop Five had already opened the door and sat in the back seat. Slamming the door behind him, he looked at the cab driver and said,

"Morgan and Grove. Quickly."

Turning to look at who had just gotten into his car and requested a ride to the intersection of Morgan Street and Grove Street, the cab driver gave Five a once-over look. He was slightly confused as to why this finely dressed young man wanted to go to an unwelcoming biker bar such as the Mothers of Agony, but he didn't care enough to ask. With a shrug of his shoulders, the cab driver faced forward again and began to head toward the destination as Five headed to his next clue in the puzzle of saving the world.

While Five was headed off to his next destination, you had already made it to yours. Like usual the parlor of the Academy was empty. For something that was supposed to be the fancy equivalent of a living room it sure always felt dead in there. But off in the corner, you saw a familiar sight of the grand piano you'd play. As you walked over to it, Ben seemed to linger a few paces behind, but that wasn't really something you were focused on. Approaching the piano, you could see the lid was closed and covered in dust. How long had it been since someone touched this? Had it sat silent all these years? Wiping the dust away, you opened the lid and ran your fingers over the keys, not pressing any of them yet and instead admiring the feeling. There was something comforting about feeling the keys beneath your fingertips. Perhaps it was the familiarity, but as you continued to caress the ivories, your hand stopped at one specific key. You hovered over it for a moment, but with one press a single G note echoed through the parlor. From the corner of your eye, you could see Ben's head snap to look toward the piano, and as you turned to look at him a smirk came to your face.

"I see someone had an emo phase." You remarked playfully

"Emo phase? I don't even know what that is." Ben replied defensively

Instead of responding to him though you went back to playing the intro keys to Welcome to the Black Parade but stopped before the final note. Looking back over at Ben you saw panic form on his face.

Ben knew that if he corrected you, you would know that you were right, but at the same time, it was practically disrespectful for you not to play the song's intro in full. He tried to hold back and keep himself from correcting you, knowing that's what you wanted, but the frustration of the incomplete intro was too much as he demanded,

"Play the last note!"

"Ha! I knew it!" You exclaimed

You saw as Ben rolled his eyes as you played the final note of the intro and released him from his turmoil. Although now you were going to have to deal with his annoyance at finding him out.

"So is that all you know how to play?" Ben deflected

"Benjamin, do you realistically think that's all I know how to play?" You questioned rhetorically

"No." Ben answered

"Exactly." You stated, "Now, you can either continue sulking that I found out you actually might have some music taste or you come over here and listen to me play like you said you would."

Ben looked at you for a moment, watching as you pulled out the piano bench and sat down. You were worming your way further and further into his brain and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He wasn't against it, and he wasn't really fighting it at this point anymore, but it was still a little scary how you did it with such ease. Softly, you began to play the sound of an ambling melody as Ben finally walked over to you. Sitting down next to you on the piano bench he heard as you asked,

"Any requests?"

In that moment it was as if his mind went blank and he had never listened to any music in his entire life. He could say Welcome to the Black Parade, but he'd probably never hear the end of it from you if he did. With nothing else coming to mind he answered,

"Uh no, you pick."

"Oh, there's so many choices. Classical, musicals, modern piano covers..." You rambled as you tried to think

And then it hit you. The perfect song to fill this lackluster house with some vibrance.

"Have you ever seen Howl's Moving Castle?" You asked Ben

"No, what's that?" He responded curiously

"It's a beautiful animated movie. The story is touching, the art is incredible and the music, the music is iconic." You explained "The song I'm gonna play is from that movie. Now, it won't quite be the same without the strings, but I'll make it work and hopefully, you'll still like it."

"If you're as good as people say you are, then I'm sure I will." Ben replied

"I am." You stated confidently

A smirk came to Ben's face at your response. He liked your confidence. It was one of the many things he was starting to admire about you.

Looking down at the piano you took a breath and placed your hands on the starting keys and after a moment of silence, you began to play Merry-Go-Round of Life. Slowly, the beginning of the piece flowed through the Academy, it's enchanting sound filling the silent halls. Closing your eyes you embraced the nostalgic feeling you got from the song, and as it approached the first string part you used your powers to press more keys than your hands cover making it so that both the piano and what was technically the string portion could be heard.

But as you moved through the piece, duetting with yourself and bringing life to the joyless building, you could hear the sound of strings playing in your head. Specifically, you could hear the familiar sound of a viola playing the string portion of the song. Opening your eyes you look up and past the piano and there she was, Viktoria, standing there with a smile as she played her viola along with you. As you looked off to the left, you saw the rest of your friends, including Charlie, sitting on the couches happily listening to you play. You knew in your head that they weren't there, but for a moment you'd let your heart believe they were. A small, bittersweet smile came to your face as you let the music flow through you and played in honor of the friends you lost.

Ben listened in awe as the gorgeous melody of the song filled the air. Even though you were playing one instrument it was almost like he was hearing a whole orchestra given how many parts you were playing at once. As the music danced through the room, and Ben watched you perform with all your talent he could feel emotion build up in him, but once again he couldn't find the words to describe it. But he could feel it. The feeling was warm and made his chest feel tight and his stomach do flips. He didn't think about it much though as he focused his attention on you.

That was until he saw something move up above the two of you. Looking up toward the balcony above the parlor, Ben could see his three remaining siblings standing there listening to you play. Sloane smiled with a dreamy look on her face, Fei stood leaning slightly over the balcony railing as she watched intently, and Christopher slightly swayed to the music. And as the song crescendoed their awestruck reactions reflected Ben's own feelings as he knew they were recalling the same memory he had of their father from when they were children. But now hearing you play, Ben knew their father was right, your abilities were beyond compare. Even if they tried none of them would've ever gotten to your level of talent.

Swaying with the music, you closed your eyes and played with all the emotion you had in you. You put your entire heart into the piece, at least all that was left of it. And as the song came to its end you opened your eyes once more and saw all of your friends were gone. You could feel slight tears prick your eyes as your moment of peace slipped away, and you were reminded of the fact that they weren't there to begin with and they never would be again. All you had left were the phantom versions in your mind that both helped and hurt you each time they appeared. As you lifted your hands from the keys and placed them in your lap you heard Ben compliment,

"That was amazing,"

"Thank you." You responded softly

Ben could hear the hint of sadness in your tone. It was faint and perhaps if he wasn't paying so much attention he would've missed it. Nevertheless, it was there.

"What's wrong?" Ben inquired

Looking away from your lap and toward Ben you could see the concern on his face and you heard the care in his tone. You didn't expect him to notice such a small change in demeanor but it was nice. It was familiar.

"I'm fine, it's just a memory." You recalled "My friend Viktoria and I would duet the song together. She played viola so she'd take the string parts while I'd play the piano. I heard her playing in my mind, but I know she's not here."

He looked down at the ground as he felt a pit forming in his stomach. Two floors below you was where the black hole that took your friends and tore you apart was, but you had no clue because it wasn't actively giving off a wave. Part of him didn't want to tell you about it. He was finally having positive interactions with you, and he worried if you found out that this whole time the thing that had hurt you was right beneath your feet and he hadn't told you, there was a chance that those would stop. Then again you'd probably find out at some point either through your powers, his siblings, or your annoyingly persistent...boyfriend. Perhaps it was better if he told you. At least then he could say he was honest with you. looking over at you Ben called,

"(Y/N)?"

"Yeah?" You replied

"I want to show you something." Ben stated

You looked at him slightly confused. You had come down here to play the piano and now he wanted to go somewhere else? Seeing your hesitation, Ben added,

"It's important."

There was sincerity in his tone and you could see the serious look on his face. If it meant this much to him then you might as well see what it was. Nodding your head you replied,

"Okay."

"Follow me." Ben said, gesturing out of the parlor

Standing up from the piano, you closed the lid before following him out of the room. As you walked through the Academy, you made your way down the stairs, past the kitchen, and to the basement door. You looked at Ben concerned as he opened the door and began to walk down the stairs. What the hell was in the basement that was so important to show you? Cautiously, you followed him down the stairs and when you reached the bottom landing you could see a bright light glowing behind a wall down the corridor. You followed behind Ben as he walked toward the glowing light and as you rounded the corner you finally saw what he wanted to show you. You stood there in shock as you took in the sight of a bright burning orb floating in the air. It rippled and flared like a miniature sun and yet it wasn't really affecting anything right now.

"Benjamin...is that..." You began to question hesitantly

"The black hole? Yeah." He responded, "I thought you might want to know given well...y'know."

You looked at the orb silently. This thing had been the cause of most of your pain recently, both physically and emotionally. It was a danger to your existence and was continuously tearing apart your life. And yet as you, one anomaly, looked at another anomaly, you couldn't help be be slightly enthralled. You were born out of nothing and felt everything, and this black hole was born out of everything and felt nothing. The world was a sucker for balance and you and the Kugelblitz were opposite sides of the same coin.

Carefully, you walked closer to it. You knew it couldn't hurt you right now, as you described it to Ben, it was Schrodinger's energy, but you wanted to understand it more. As you stood about a foot away from it, you brought your powers to the forefront, rather than letting them linger idly in the background. With your back turned to Ben, your eyes glowed blue, and for a moment, it felt like nothing, but as you honed in a little more you could feel the potential energy of lying underneath the surface of the Kugelblitz. It reminded you of a pot of boiling water with a lid on top. From the outside, there wasn't really much feeling, but inside there was so much more going on. You could make out the feeling of the microbursts of energy beneath the calm surface and the way those bursts created more pressure inside. It scared you a little, how you were currently safe, but you knew that wouldn't last forever. Due to the "lid" it couldn't hurt you now, but the minute the Kugelblitz boiled over, it was gonna hurt again. And it was going to hurt a lot.

Slightly, you raised your hand toward the Kugelblitz to "feel" it better, but the moment you did so Ben grabbed your hand and pulled you back. But he was only able to hold on for a second before a rush of overwhelming pain coursed through his system causing him to drop to his knees. He grabbed at his head that now loudly pulsed as he let out a groan.

Your eyes reverted to normal as you returned your powers to the background. Turning around you looked down at Ben, as you reprimanded,

"Don't do that. Do you know how dangerous it is to touch me when I'm using my full abilities?"

"Do you know how dangerous it is to touch that thing?" He shouted "And what do you mean full abilities?! What the hell was that!"

"Literally the weight of the world. You just felt everything around us." You shouted back "My powers have an active and an idle mode. You could've killed yourself grabbing me when they're fully active like that!"

With his pain subsided Ben stood up from the floor and approached you. A look of frustration covered his face as he yelled,

"And you could've killed yourself if that thing decided to flare out! I was trying to protect you!"

You didn't shout back. Instead, you stayed quiet as you looked at him and in doing so you noticed something. The expression on his face that you thought was frustration wasn't actually such. It was concern. Genuine concern. yes, he had looked at you slightly concerned earlier in the day, but those times it still felt like he was trying to somewhat hide it behind some tough exterior. This, however, was out in the open. He was concerned and he wasn't hiding it...kind of like a friend would do.

"Okay." You responded calmly "It's an intriguing phenomenon, but I'll be more careful around it."

Ben paused. He felt good knowing you wouldn't get so close to the black hole but was confused by the fact that you weren't yelling back anymore. When he got into arguments with other people they just kept yelling until one person walked away, but you didn't walk away, you just stopped. It didn't feel like you relented either, you just calmed down and agreed. Was that normal for people? Because to him it felt...out of place. Not really knowing how to respond now, Ben replied,

"Oh. Okay."

You waited for him to say something else, but when nothing came you looked away from him and at the Kugelblitz once more. Ben mimicked your action and the two of you stood silently as you watched the glowing ball ripple. This was it, huh? The thing that was going to destroy everything.

"So does it hurt?" Ben asked breaking the silence "Feeling everything all the time?"

"It used to when I was really little, but not anymore." You replied "Well, except if Viktor uses his powers too much or that thing explodes. Then it hurts like a bitch."

"That sounds terrible." Ben remarked

Your powers weren't terrible, only the painful experiences that were a side effect of them. You loved your powers, they were an integral part of who you were and how you lived. Even when your abilities were idle you still felt everything and it was like the world was singing to you. For as long as you could remember the world was full of life and song and there was nothing you would trade that for.

"No. Excluding those exceptions, it's actually really beautiful. Everything has its own little hum and it's like a symphony that plays just for me." You answered, "What would be terrible is if it all went silent."

Your answer intrigued Ben. He certainly never considered his powers to be something beautiful. Until he learned to control his powers he found them to be mostly a burden, not that he would tell anyone that. And even now, they might not be a burden but there certainly wasn't anything beautiful about eldritch tentacles from a portal in his gut. If he could choose between his power or yours, he'd probably pick the versatile, deadly, and apparently beautiful one you seemed to possess.

"So what do your powers sound like?" Ben asked

"Oh well, it's less of a sound and more of a feeling. But it's like a loud feeling. Kinda like being next to a giant speaker-" You began to explain before cutting yourself off and saying "Actually, it would be easier to just show you."

Ben saw as you stuck out your hand toward him and looked at it hesitantly. He was interested in your offer, but not the associated pain that came with it. While it might not hurt you, it sure as hell hurt him and he wasn't sure if he was willing to experience that again.

Seeing his hesitation you could easily assume it was from the immense pain he had experienced only moments ago. Given that experience, he had every right to be hesitant, but you tried to ease his mind adding,

"It won't hurt this time, I promise."

Not getting a response from him though you extended your hand slightly closer to him as you asked,

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Ben replied gently, taking your hand

The word had come out of his mouth before he had even realized he said it. It had rolled off his tongue as if he had answered that question a thousand times before. The word came to him so easily, easier than it ever had before. Trust was a complex concept for him. The only person he truly trusted was himself. Even his trust for his siblings and father was conditional although some more conditional than others. And yet, as he looked at his hand holding yours, there wasn't a double in his mind that he trusted you without condition.

"Good. Now if you get lightheaded let me know. My friends didn't and they all passed out when I did this with them." You mentioned, "Also, if it starts to feel like your bones are vibrating out of your skin don't freak out, that's normal."

Ben's head snapped up from looking at his hand holding yours, as he quickly questioned,

"Wait what."

However, you did not hear his question though as you had already started bringing your power to the forefront more. The symphony of the world grew louder as you focused on emphasizing your abilities enough for Ben to feel them, but not to the point where it would hurt him. You were the only person who was cut out for fully feeling all that existed. Granted, it wasn't really a choice in the beginning, but it certainly was now and you wouldn't put that on another person unless they deserved it. As you slowly increased your focus you could feel the rhythmic hum of everything around you come together like an orchestra playing a song. Closing your eyes you peacefully embraced the feeling of it all and it was beautiful.

Ben however was trying to process feeling like his bones were going to vibrate out of his skin. You said that this was normal, but it certainly didn't feel it. As for his prior thought of wanting to switch powers with you, he immediately took that thought back. His heart was racing. Was he going to die? This was terrifying. More terrifying than his powers were before he learned to control them. How was this beautiful? But as he wondered if this would be over soon he heard you calmly say,

"Feel it, don't fight it."

He looked over at you. Your eyes were still closed and you looked peaceful as you took steady breaths in and out. He didn't know if he could stop fighting the feeling of his skeleton hatching from under his skin, but he was the one who agreed to this so he could try. For you. Closing his eyes as well, he mimicked your steady breathing as he tried to feel the same way you felt. For a moment it still felt like his insides were going to come out, but then the sensation changed.

Instead of one overwhelming vibration, it splintered off into a bunch of smaller ones. It felt less like an explosion and more like a blanket that surrounded him. Some of the vibrations were faster, and some slower, and yet they all came together in a coordinated way. And then he heard it. The loud hum you were talking about. You were right it was less of a sound than it was a feeling, but the longer he embraced it the more he understood your point. The way every feeling came together, it was like a symphony. It was your symphony and it was incredible. Opening his eyes, he looked over at you.

There was a peaceful smile on your face as the glow of the black hole reflected off your skin and as you held his hand he could feel that electric feeling rush through him again. And for a moment it felt like he couldn't breathe.

"I think I'm getting lightheaded." He stated

"Oh, that's enough for you then." You replied concerned

Quickly, and to Ben's internal disappointment, you pulled your hand away from him and put your powers on the back burner again. Looking over at him, you smiled as you commented,

"It's pretty right?"

"Very." He replied

Before you could say anything else, your stomach growled loudly and you could feel how empty it was. Huh. You were so distracted by the events of the day you totally forgot that you needed to eat.

"Hungry?" Ben asked

"Yeah. I haven't eaten since this morning." You replied

"Well, there's a diner a few blocks away." Ben suggested

"They got coffee?" You asked

"It's a diner, of course they do." Ben answered

"Alright, let's go then." You said

You took one last look at the Kugelblitz. You knew this thing, this frightening, intriguing anomaly, would be the cause of your demise, but you might as well make the most of the time you had left. And so ignoring the facts in front of you, you followed Ben out of the basement and back upstairs to go grab food at a diner. But as the two of you walked into the foyer to exit, you saw as Luther walked in the front door with Sloane. Whatever positive feelings you had just a moment ago quickly faded as you saw him. Your anger and annoyance came back in full swing as you watched him finally notice you. Part of you wanted to just turn invisible and walk outside the door, but the last thing you needed was Luther or Sloane stopping Ben because you walked out. Perhaps the two of you could get by them without an interaction. That thought was quickly disproven though as Luther awkwardly greeted,

"(Y/N). Hey."

"Luther." You deadpanned

It was obvious that you were still upset about earlier, and reflecting on it rightfully so. Granted, Luther hoped more of that anger was directed toward Diego although Luther did bear some fault. Trying to smooth things over, Luther began to explain,

"Listen about what I said-"

However, Ben could sense your annoyance. You didn't even like the Umbrella Academy members. You didn't want to see them, let alone talk to them. But beyond your annoyance, Ben could feel his annoyance grow too. You and him were supposed to be going to get dinner together and Luther had the audacity to stop you guys? Stepping forward, Ben cut off harshly,

"Does it look like she wants to talk to you?"

"Huh?" Luther replied, looking at Ben confused

You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to talk to Luther. Truly you didn't want to talk to any of the Umbrellas except Five, of course. He was the only one you weren't upset at because he was the only one who actually cared about you. And this attitude that Ben was having about the situation wasn't desirable either. Sure, it was nice that he was supporting you, but you didn't need him to fight your battles. Especially when there really wasn't a battle to be had. Trying to avoid the situation, you walked past Luther to the front door as you called back,

"Benjamin, let's just go."

Ben gave Luther a dirty look before relenting and beginning to follow behind you, but right as you opened the front door you heard Luther call out,

"(Y/N) I'm so sorry about Lucas."

"Who's Lucas?" Sloane asked

"Our son." Luther answered

"What?" Sloane questioned confused

"I'll explain later." Luther said before repeating "(Y/N) I'm sorry about Lucas."

And this was exactly why you didn't want to talk to any of the Umbrellas except Five because unlike him, they didn't get it. They didn't understand your pain, your grief, your anger. And they surely didn't understand that their apologies meant nothing now that it was already too late. Wasting your time with Ben was a decent distraction, but you still could feel that heavy, twisting feeling in your gut knowing that your loved ones were forcibly taken from you and there was nothing you could've done about it. You could feel emotion begin to build up inside you. Lucas spent his whole life through the good and the bad looking up to Luther and this is all he got in the end? A simple apology after he was already gone. Looking back over your shoulder at Luther, you tried your best to keep yourself together as you replied,

"Don't talk about him like you cared."

And with that, you walked out the door leaving Luther and Sloane behind.

"(Y/N)..." Luther called sadly

"Leave her alone." Ben remarked back as he stood in the doorway "Hasn't your family fucked up enough already?"

Luther wondered what Ben's deal was, but before he could try to inquire, Ben walked out the door pulling it shut behind him. Walking out the front gates of the academy, he made his way over to where you stood on the sidewalk.

"You okay?" Ben asked

"Yeah, just caught off guard." You responded collecting yourself "I wasn't ready to face any of them yet."

"I can kick him out of the Academy if you want." Ben mentioned, "After all, it's our home, not his."

"Eh, it's not worth it." You rejected before stating "Let's just go eat."

And so the two of you walked away from the Academy and around the block to the diner

At this point, day had turned to night and a cool breeze blew down the city streets. The silence and the lack of life were even more evident at night compared to earlier in the day. It was eerie, but more so it was sad. As you rounded the corner of the block, you saw up ahead the place Ben was talking about. The neon sign might've said Greta's Diner, but you recognized the building immediately. It was Griddy's. Or at least it would've been if you were in the right timeline. You paused for a moment looking at the building as Ben continued to walk ahead. However, after a few paces, he stopped and looked back at you calling,

"Come on."

Picking up your pace, you caught up to him as the two of you made it to the building. Opening the door you stepped inside and took in the surroundings, getting hit by a wave of nostalgia as you realized they were the exact same. The layout, the color scheme, the entire vibe, it was all identical.

"Well, this is the place." Ben stated before asking "Where do you want to sit? Booth? Counter?"

You looked around the place as memories rushed back to you. You remembered a few times with your friends, crowding the seven of you into one booth to enjoy some late-night pastries. There were the times when Eudora would take you here for a quick breakfast before dropping you off at school. And then there were the most important memories of this place. Your times with Five. You remembered sitting at the counter next to him on the day he returned back into your life, and those few nice moments before this apocalyptical cycle started. And then there were all the times you spent here as kids. You could practically see the younger versions of you and him sitting at the booth in the back corner. You with your jelly donut and him with his plain glazed one. You recalled the way the world would just fade away as you sat and talked for hours, day after day. It was nice. You missed that.

Turning your attention back to Ben, you answered his question saying,

"Table."

It's not that you couldn't sit at a booth or the counter with Ben, but those places were special. If you were going to sit there then you should be sitting there with Five. Nevertheless, you walked over to one of the many open tables in the place and sat down across from Ben. While Griddy's, or well now Greta's, was never the hot spot to be, it never felt deserted either, but right now this place was a ghost town with only you and Ben in it. For a moment you even wondered if there was anyone working here before you saw a server finally walk out from the back. As she rounded the corner from the kitchen she looked surprised to see you and Ben there, but put on a nice customer service face as she approached the table. Seeing her customer service face, you felt bad for being here. You should've just tried to deal with Luther's presence and ate at the Academy rather than making this waitress serve you in the middle of a global crisis. It was too late though as she already had pulled out her notepad and greeted,

"Welcome to Greta's, what can I get started for you?"

"Coffee. Cream on the side." Ben stated before adding "Pork roll, egg, and cheese. Salt, pepper, ketchup."

"Okay." The waitress replied writing everything down before asking "And you?"

"Um, coffee and a plate of disco fries." You answered before quickly adding "And one jelly and one plain glazed donut please."

"Alright, I'll get that started for you two." The server replied, "I'll be right back with a coffee pot."

As the server walked behind the counter to get your coffee, you looked over at the booth in the corner again and thought of your boyfriend. As much as you needed this time away from the Umbrella Academy, you still hated leaving him. The only positive was he hadn't called yet which meant he probably wasn't in danger. Although, you wished he had a cellphone so you could call him instead of waiting for him to call you. Maybe that wasn't a good idea though. You were pretty sure he didn't know how to work a smartphone, and if his reaction to that vending machine that wouldn't give him a snack was any indication, a smartphone given to him probably wouldn't be functional for very long. However, that didn't stop the feeling in your heart of wanting to be with him. You loved him and you missed him.

Soon enough the waitress brought back a pot of coffee, some cream, and two cups, placing them on the table for you and Ben. You gave her a polite smile before grabbing the pot and pouring some coffee into both, pouring slightly less in Ben's to make room for the cream he wanted. When you were done pouring, you placed the coffee pot off to the side and as Ben poured cream into his cup, he inquired,

"Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead." You replied

"Where did you learn to draw so well?" Ben questioned "I mean buildings so well."

You elected to ignore his correction knowing that he was bad at talking and probably didn't mean it as a slight. But as you thought about the answer to his question you smiled knowing exactly why you were so good.

"My mom." You answered softly as you reminisced about her "She was an architect and interior designer. I always watched her drawing buildings and room interiors so that's all I ever practiced drawing too. I like to think I got pretty good at it, but it'll never beat her drawings."

Ben didn't expect your answer. You were so intertwined with that of the Umbrella Academy that he forgot that you weren't part of it. But what intrigued him the most was the way in which you spoke. You responded softly, but there was a reverence in your tone and although there was a smile on your face there was a sadness in your eyes. You missed her. He wondered what it was like to miss your mom. Ben had no memories of his birth mother since he was adopted right after he was born and Grace was never really a mother to him, just a maid. What was it like to have a mom? What was it like to have a parent you wanted to be around and be like? Was it nice? It seemed nice.

"Do you want to be an architect like her?" Ben wondered

"No, I didn't really share my parents' passion for buildings." You explained candidly "My dad was an engineer. My parents owned an all-in-one architecture, construction, and interior design firm. They loved creating buildings, but me? Not so much."

"So what do you want to do?" Ben inquired curiously

A question that used to be so simple was now so loaded. You didn't know what you wanted to do anymore. You wanted to graduate high school, but you never existed in this timeline. You wanted to go to college with your friends, but none of them were around. You wanted to have a life with Five, but that seemed like it would never happen. You wanted to be fully happy, but how could you when everything was so wrong? There was nothing for you to want anymore, only things you wanted. However, that was too much to put on someone who had only known you for a few days.

"My dream was to go to college and major in Chemistry with a minor in Physics. Maybe minor in music as well." You answered "I wanted to figure out a way to put my powers to good use. Solve some unsolvable problem. I wanted to help people."

"Wanted?" Ben asked confused before continuing "Why can't you do it? Is it money? I can pay for you to go."

"That's sweet of you, but-" You began to reply

"But what?" Ben pressed

"Benjamin, the world is ending." You stated matter-of-factly "There's no time for dreams anymore."

No time for dreams? No, there had to still be time. The world hadn't ended yet. There had to be a way for him to fix this. He was Number One of the Sparrow Academy after all. He was born and raised to save the world. There had to be a way he could make your dreams a reality again.

"Isn't there time to stop this?" Ben suggested

"Pfft, to even try we'd need the Sparrows and Umbrellas to work together and that's like trying to mix oil and water and then setting it on fire." You scoffed "At this point, my only hope is that I die in one piece."

"Don't say that." Ben protested "You never know, maybe it'll work out."

You looked at him curiously as you replied intrigued,

"I didn't take you for an optimist,"

"Sometimes we find reasons to be." Ben replied sincerely

Before you could say anything else though your food had arrived. And as you heard your stomach growl once more you knew it was time to eat. But while you and Ben quietly ate your food, Five was struggling not to voice his opinions to his taxi driver.

Even with Five expressing the need for speed on the drive, it still took a good bit of time to get from the hotel to downtown where the bar was. Between the cab driver's insistence on following traffic rules plus all the detours that had to be made to avoid the droves of abandoned cars, what should've been a 20-minute ride at most took closer to an hour. And with each passing minute, Five grew more frustrated. He needed to get to this bar. What if the person he was looking for wasn't there by the time he got there all because of this specific cab driver? Like most other things there wasn't much Five could do but it was still quicker than walking to the place. From a block away, Five could see the glowing lights of the bar sign and headlights. However, instead of continuing to drive, the cab pulled off to the side of the road and parked the car before looking at Five in the rearview mirror.

"This is as far as I'll take ya, kid." The cab driver said, "Those bikers ain't the neighborly types."

"Fair enough." Five replied

Five didn't mind walking the rest of the way, he had already wanted to get out of the cab 20 minutes ago. Pulling out some cash, Five handed over the owed amount for the ride to the driver before opening the door and leaving the car. He watched from the sidewalk as the cab driver quickly turned around a drove off leaving him alone on the street. From down the block, he could hear the sound of revving engines and rowdy shouts. Well, at least he knew for sure he was heading in the right direction. With his hands in his pockets, Five walked away from where he was dropped off and towards his true destination. As he approached the bar, he walked through a crowd of bikers and their motorcycles outside.

"What you doing here, baby?" One woman asked

"You lost?" Another man called out

Five ignored their judgmental glares. He one, was tired and didn't care, and two, had far more important things to worry about than some drunk bikers. Stepping up to the door he passed the painted Mothers of Agony sign in the doorway and entered into the building itself. Walking up a set of stairs he was met with the sight of a stereotypical biker bar. The interior looked like that of a warehouse that just had a bar, chairs, and stripper pole plopped into it. The floors were concrete and covered in dirt and the walls were littered with posters of motorcycles and neon signs. The dim lights and cigarette smoke created a warm haze in the room that was only broken by the spotlight on the pole dancer in the middle. This whole place smelled like a mix of beer and piss and the glares from the patrons did nothing to improve the environment. Those glares however were not intimidating to Five like they probably hoped. He could kill them before they even realized they were dead. At this point, they were just getting in his way. At the far back of the room Five could see a door that said members only, and if anyone was going to help him understand what was going on it wouldn't be one of the brainless drones out here. Making his way through the leather-wrapped crowd, he pushed open the members-only door and headed toward the figure in the center of the room.

"I've been looking for you." Five called out

As the figure turned around though Five's confident demeanor shifted as slight confusion took over. The figure standing before him was Pogo. What was he doing here? Five never got the chance to see if he was around the academy because he and his siblings got their asses handed to them and then thrown out before they could really explore, but he had assumed that Pogo was still there somewhere. This didn't seem like the type of place he would be unless something had happened. He could only wonder what that was though.

"I don't tattoo children." Pogo replied

That wasn't quite true. He did for a certain price and if they had a decent level of respect for the process, but whoever this was Pogo had neither the time nor patience for them. They looked of age to tattoo, but who did they think they were barging in like they owned the place? And what kind of young adult nowadays chose to wear a suit, and especially to to a biker club? Whatever the case was, Pogo didn't want to deal with him.

"Swell, I'm not here for the ink." Five retorted "I'm here because you and I have a mutual friend. Sir Reginald Hargreeves."

Pogo let out a sigh as he turned back around to continue working on the person he was tattooing. He had no care for Sir Reginald Hargreeves and whatever mess that followed him around. He had spent too long caring about that man and he wasn't going to start again now.

"Whatever he wants, I'm not interested." Pogo dismissed

"I don't think you understand. I'm one of his children." Five explained seriously "From another timeline."

Although Five couldn't see it, Pogo's eyes went wide. Another timeline? No. There was no way that this was possible. Regaining his composure, Pogo looked back at Five and chuckled snarkily,

"Another timeline?"

"As crazy as it sounds, you and I have met before. Back in 1963, when you were a diaper-wearing chimp in dire need of a manicure." Five reiterated as he pulled down the collar of his shirt "I don't know if you remember, but I have a scar to prove it."

Pogo looked at the young man before him. If what he was saying was true then wouldn't he be of an advanced age by now? All this gibberish was probably just some twisted scheme to get him back to the academy. But the academy was no longer his home, this is where he belonged now. Giving a slight nod to his friends in the room they began to inch closer to the young man before him. As his friends surrounded the boy on all sides, Pogo looked directly at him.

"If what you're saying is true, I'd be talking to a man well into his sixties." Pogo retorted "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've had a very long day."

Grabbing his things, Pogo turned and walked away. This boy and whatever his deal was weren't his problem. As Pogo walked away though, Five stepped forward calling out,

"Pogo, you need to listen to me."

But before he could get to Pogo, the other men in the room stepped close and surrounded him, stopping him in his path.

"Time to go home to Mommy, lil guy." One of the bikers remarked

Was that supposed to scare him or something? It's not like they could do anything to him. They were just a bunch of drunk bikers, but he was Five Hargreeves. Former superhero, former assassin, time traveler, your boyfriend, Five Hargreeves. Looking back at the guy who spoke to him Five mocked,

"Or what?"

Before any of them could say anything though he had already blinked out of the room and outside to follow Pogo. As he looked around the lot of motorcycles he saw Pogo's figure quickly riding away on one.

"Shit." Five said aloud

Looking around he saw another biker, his motorcycle turned on and ready to ride off. Quickly approaching him, Five shouted,

"Hey, I need your bike. It's an emergency."

However, the man on the motorcycle gave Five a snarky look as he retorted,

"Think you have me confused with someone who gives a shit."

"Give me the bike or else." Five shouted back

But the man did not listen and instead began to ride off down the road. Stand where he was left, Five looked at the biker who had ridden off and quietly said,

"Okay."

This wasn't what he wanted to do, but he needed a ride immediately if he was going to keep up with Pogo. With a running start, Five blinked onto the back of the motorcycle of the guy who had driven away. Placing his hands on the guy's shoulders, Five forced him off the bike before taking control of it himself. Steadying himself he looked around for Pogo and once he had spotted him up ahead he floored it so that he could keep up. As he followed behind Five knew one thing, this was going to be a long, stressful night.

As for you, the night felt quite calm compared to where your day started. The pain and grief of losing all your friends hadn't vanished. In reality, it still hurt a lot, but at least for now, you were distracted. There were only so many days until the world ended and perhaps if you could distract yourself until then, maybe you could at least co-exist with your pain. After you and Ben finished eating, he paid for your meals as you made your way back to the Academy. You and Ben walked down the sidewalk idly chatting with each other, your voices being the only prominent sound in an oddly quiet part of the city. As you ambled back, you playfully bumped into him as you attempted to push him into the empty road. Seeing what you had done, Ben smirked before bumping back into you a little harder toward the building you walked next to. Back and forth you went bumping each other, first just using your bodies but then incorporating your powers for some extra strength. With one tentacle Ben shoved you toward the nearest building and laughed as you phased through the wall to avoid crashing into it. Popping back out of the wall, you looked at him as he continued to laugh and with a flick of your wrist, you sent him stumbling off the sidewalk and into the road. As you watched him struggle to stay on his feet you began to laugh back at him.

But then, you felt the energy of the world changing. It was no longer peaceful and calm, something was growing and quickly. Your gut dropped and your laughter stopped as you looked off toward the Academy just two blocks away. You knew what this feeling was and you knew how this ended. You froze, adrenaline coursing through your system, but fear keeping you paralyzed. Each energy wave was worse than the last. The pain was immense and the injuries you sustained increased each time. Oh god, what if this one took you? You told Five you would come back to him. You couldn't leave him like this. You loved him. All you had wanted was a little time. Why was there never enough time? You wanted to run away or hide or do anything you could to protect yourself but the terror of the unknown immobilized you. All it seemed like you could do was wait for the black hole to burst.

As Ben regained his balance, he noticed that you had stopped laughing. Looking over at you he saw you frozen in place your eyes trained forward down the street. Looking off in the distance he tried to see what it was that caused you to freeze, but there was nothing there. Something wasn't right. He could feel it. Quickly, he rushed over to you and saw the terror in your eyes. He could feel his heart start to beat faster and he asked,

"(Y/N), are you okay?"

Hearing Ben's voice, your eyes finally peeled away from the road ahead to him. As you looked at him you saw the sincerity in his eyes and you heard the genuine concern in his voice. And even through your panic you saw him. You saw Ben. The one who sought you out. The one who paid attention to you. The Ben who cared for you. He may not have been the same Ben, but he was still your Ben. He was your friend. He was the family the rest of Hargreeves couldn't be. If this was going to happen, at least you knew you'd have someone who cared by your side.

"Whatever happens, promise you won't leave me." You quickly stated, a begging-like tone to your voice

Leave you? He wasn't going to leave you. You were different and fun and he liked talking to you. He didn't feel pressured to be anything with you. You were kind, but you called him out in a way that no one else could. He liked having you around. Leaving you would be the last thing he'd want to do.

"I- I don't understand," Ben replied confused

You were running out of time. The wave was coming and it felt powerful. You didn't know if you'd make it through this one and you didn't want to be alone. You were terrified of being alone. You needed a friend. You needed Ben to promise you to stay. Stay like he always had. Grabbing at his shirt, you looked at him desperately as you shouted,

"Promise me, Ben!"

Ben.

He was Ben.

You called him Ben.

He looked at you, and although your face was frightened your eyes were earnest and sincere. He was Ben. He was your Ben. You wanted him to stay with you and he was going to do just that. He was never going to leave and nothing in this world was going to keep him from you.

"I promise." He replied softly

You gave him a weak smile, but it didn't last long as the energy you felt build up finally burst. Your head whipped back as you saw the giant wave of energy rushing toward you. Your only hope was that the pain would be over quickly. Closer and closer it came, causing you to feel sick even before it hit, and then just like that, it tore through your system. You felt an unbearable ripping sensation spread through your body, like blades cutting you from the inside and out. As you felt your body giving out from under you, you thought of Five one more time before everything went black.

It was as if the world moved in slow motion as Ben watched you go from standing with him holding onto his shirt to letting go and falling to the ground. He tried to reach out to catch you but he wasn't quick enough. Immediately, he dropped to his knees on the ground next to you and gently shook your shoulders as he called out,

"(Y/N)?"

But you didn't respond. You didn't even move. His heart began to race as he looked over you. All your wounds that were practically healed were now reopened and spilling out blood, and on top of it, there were new, worse wounds as well. You looked pale and when he reached out to check your pulse, he found one but it certainly wasn't strong. Oh god. No. NO! He couldn't lose you. He had just started getting to know you. Just started getting to be around you. You had only moments ago called him by his name. He promised he would stay with you, but he couldn't just let you go. He had to save you. Quickly, he scooped you up in his arms and ran down the blocks toward the Academy. There you could get the treatment you needed. As he made it to the Academy he practically kicked down the door to get in and as he stood in the foyer, with urgency in his tone, he shouted,

"HELP! HELP!"

Quickly, Luther and Sloane ran from the parlor into the foyer where Ben stood. The two of them looked at him and saw the urgency in his eyes before noticing what was making him so panicked. There in his arms was you, limp, pale, and bloodied. It was an awful sight to see you in such a condition.

"Oh my god!" Sloane exclaimed, "What happened?!"

"I don't know!" Ben replied, pained unease in his tone

Luther knew what had happened though. It had to have been the same thing that happened earlier today. Nothing else could tear you apart like a strong molecular disturbance and the Kugelblitz was the only thing capable of doing so as of late.

"It must've been another kugelwave." Luther explained "Because of her powers it tears her apart. I saw it happen earlier today."

Ben looked at Luther before looking back at you. That's right, you had mentioned when he found you in the warehouse that the black hole was tearing you apart, and down in the basement you had made the comment of being in immense pain when the black hole explodes. He felt stupid for not realizing what had happened and even stupider for letting one of the people who caused the blackhole point out what was wrong. But as stupid as he felt that didn't matter right now, what mattered was getting you the help you needed. Ben scowled at Luther before turning his attention to Sloane.

"I'm bringing her up to the med bay." Ben stated before commanding "Go find Grace."

But Sloane didn't move. She couldn't as she stared at your unconscious form. You might not have been dead, but you certainly looked it and it hurt her to see you in such a way. No one had been as nice to her in her entire life as you had been in the few moments you were with her. She didn't know if she could call her siblings friends, a lot of times it felt like they were just coworkers, but you were the first person she felt was actually her friend. She couldn't help, but gently reach a hand out toward you, but Ben took a step back and held you closer to him. Looking up at her brother she could see a mix of anger and fear on his face. She had never seen him look like this before.

"SLOANE, GO FIND GRACE!" Ben shouted "NOW!"

"Uh- right- okay!" Sloane stuttered before running off with Luther in tow

With Sloane and Luther attempting to find Grace, Ben rushed up the stairs of the Academy and toward the med bay next to the kitchen. Gently, he placed you down on the bed in there as he waited for Sloane to arrive. What was only a few moments felt like forever as Sloane finally appeared with Grace. Giving a curt nod to Sloane, he turned to look at Grace, her cultish look and missing eye weren't an appealing sight for someone he was hoping to take care of you, but she was the best resource to help. It's not like he could take you to the hospital. At this point there probably wasn't enough staff and surely they would ask questions he wouldn't be able to answer.

"You need to help her. Immediately." Ben commanded

"Of course." Grace replied, her tone cheery but flat "Please leave the room so I can have space to work."

No. He wasn't going to leave. You had asked him to stay with you and he was going to do so no matter what.

"What? No. I want to stay here." Ben complained

"C'mon Ben, look at her, you need to let Grace work or she's going to get worse." Sloane mentioned before offering "If you want we can keep the door open."

He didn't want to leave the room, but Sloane was right. You were looking worse by the second, and you needed help now. At least if the door was open, he could watch Grace to make sure she did her job and nothing else. No matter how much he hated it, it was the best option for now and so he relented,

"Fine."

He gestured for Sloane and Luther to leave the room and once they did so he followed them out making sure to leave the door wide open. While Luther took a seat at the kitchen table, and Sloane started making a pot of coffee, Ben went back and forth between pacing the kitchen and standing in the doorframe of the med bay to watch Grace work. Five minutes became ten, and ten became thirty, and with each passing minute Ben worried more about if you were okay. Surely if it was nothing serious Grace would've been done by now, right? He could see her taking care of you, cleaning your wounds, stitching up gashes, giving you IV fluids, but why was it taking so long? He paced around faster, his head turning to look into the doorway every time he passed by.

As he aggressively paced, Luther and Sloane sat together at the kitchen table just watching Ben. Sloane had never seen him act this way before. She recalled times when he was more vulnerable as children, but his exterior grew harder as he got older, especially after the incident when he was 17. It had been a very long time since she had seen him so concerned about someone other than himself. Perhaps you had found a way to get through to him like no one else could. You certainly were the nicest person the Sparrows had encountered, besides her sweetie pie of a boyfriend of course.

Luther however wasn't as surprised at Ben's reaction. You and Ben had always been close. The relationship between you two wasn't the same as between you and Five of course, but if there was anyone in the family you trusted as much as Five, it was Ben. When Five was busy doing solo training with Reginald, it was always Ben who sought you out. When Ben, unfortunately, fell to the wayside of their father's favor because he didn't like using his powers, you always noticed and stuck up for him. Whenever you spoke, Ben was always intently listening to every word you said. When others didn't have the time to spare to be with him and his literature discussions you always showed up for him. It didn't matter what timeline or what Ben it was, that care, connection, and concern were still there.

The three of them were quiet as they waited for Grace to finish with you, the only sounds being Ben's pacing and the sipping of coffee. But after what felt like forever, Grace finally stepped out of the med bay and into the kitchen. Some blood covered her clothing and her face was relatively expressionless as she looked at the group.

"Is she going to be okay?" Ben immediately questioned

"She is unconscious, but she is stable." Grace explained, "She needs rest but given her current vitals her chances of waking up in the next 12 hours are extremely likely."

The three Hargreeves all sighed a breath of relief as they heard that you'd be okay, but once Grace was out of the way Ben went quickly back into the room and stood by your side. Your wounds were closed and bandaged, there was more color in your face, and minus the stains on your clothing, all the blood you bled was cleaned up. You were injured, but you were okay. Without leaving your side Ben used one of his tentacles to grab a chair from the kitchen table. Bringing it back into the room he placed it behind him before quietly sitting down next to your bedside. Gently, he took one of your hands in his, holding it just as gently as you held his before. He kept his eyes on you, but in his peripheral, he could see as Sloane and Luther entered the room.

"I'm going to stay with her until she wakes up." Ben stated

"Grace said she's going to be okay." Sloane replied, "You don't have to stay."

Yes he did. He did have to stay. He promised you he would and he wasn't going to break that promise. You were terrified when you had passed out. You needed someone to be there for you when you woke to tell you that you were safe.

"I'm not leaving her." Ben stated

"Ben, it's late. I think you should get some rest." Sloane explained

"I said I'm not leaving!" He snapped

Sloane and Luther looked at each other shocked at his outburst, but since it seemed like there was no convincing him to go, it was best just to let him stay.

"Okay..." Sloane quietly said, "Well, Luther and I are heading to bed."

"Then go." Ben remarked, waving them off

Taking Sloane's hand, Luther began to walk the two of them out of the room to leave Ben be, but as they began to head out Sloane whispered,

"What's gotten into him? I've never seen him like this before."

"I don't know, but it's not for us to figure out." Luther whispered back

Ben's eyes darted over to the doorway as he watched the two of them leave. They may have thought they were quiet enough, but Ben heard them. And while Luther and Sloane may not have known what had gotten into Ben, he sure did. All throughout the day it became more and more obvious to him why he was acting the way he was and there was no amount of forced obliviousness or emotional redirection that could deny what he knew now.

He loved you.

He was truly, madly, deeply, undeniably in love with you. It wasn't until he experienced the very real possibility of losing you that it all finally clicked. Ever since he met you, you had consumed his thoughts. When you walked in the room he couldn't think straight and when you looked at him you made his stomach do flips. When you spoke he was completely enthralled and when you touched him, he felt electrified. You were smart and talented and caring and gentle and beautiful. For the first time in a very long time, when he was with you, he didn't feel like Number Two, or Number One, he just felt like Ben. You made him feel this way, and he never wanted to let this feeling go. He looked at you softly, a smile coming to his face as he quietly said,

"I'm not leaving you."

Carefully, he brought your hand, which he held closer to him, and placed a gentle kiss on top of it.

"I promise."

#the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #tua five hargreeves #five hargreeves

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autumnshighlady · 3 months ago

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 31) - final chapter

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the opportunity to help the females in the Night Court is now here, and the last chapter of the reader's plan concludes

warnings: none

word count: 7.1k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: this is the final chapter of IALTPWF (there will be an epilogue for SURE, maybe a bonus chapter or two in the future) and i'm so emotional. i've poured my heart and soul into this story for two years and it's finally over. thank you to everyone who has shown this story support, I hope that in this chapter and the epilogue to come, you are satisfied with the ending. long mushy post to come later

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 / part 27 / part 28 / part 29 / part 30

read on ao3

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Nesta ran her fingers through your hair, plaiting it up in a coronet identical to her own. Her hands were steady, despite the raging sea of nerves that wracked both of you. It was a day’s ride to the Night Court on dragonback, and you could practically feel Zôrzimril itching to take flight. Without moving your head, you glanced at the window, seeing your dragon's golden scales shining in the moonlight. Athariel was behind her, the two mighty beasts laying down and resting before their long journey.

Both of you donned your new riding leathers, with featherlight but sturdy pieces of armour attached. The shoulder pieces were scaled like dragon skin – yours, gold, and Nesta’s silver. The designs of the leather blended with the metal armour were beautifully crafted, fitting perfectly to your forms. You didn’t know if you wanted Eris to tell you how much he spent commissioning the pieces, but you were grateful for the protection nonetheless.

As Nesta carefully pinned your hair in place, your stomach churned. The plan to help the females of the Night Court escape would finally conclude by tomorrow morning. Despite the detailed planning and the fact you had all the other High Lords helping the cause, nerves still wracked you. As much as you could guide the females down the right path, there would undoubtedly be many who were too afraid to leave.

It is their choice, you had to remind yourself constantly. Being from a different court, there is only so much you could do.

“Where are you right now?” Nesta murmured, resting her hands on her shoulders and looking at you in the mirror that sat on your dresser in front of you.

You blinked, pushing away your negative thoughts. “What do you mean?”

She scoffed. “You have that distant look in your eyes. And I can hear that brain of yours ticking away like an old watch. What exactly are you fretting about?”

“What am I not fretting about is the easier question,” you grumbled. “There are so many things that could go wrong with this plan.”

The scraping of chair legs filled the room as Nesta pulled up a second chair, placing it next to yours and taking a seat. “Like that? Let us rationalise it, ok?”

You took a deep breath. “This is the truly final piece to my plan. The last piece on the board to fall. One way or another, we’ve gotten what we wanted so far. What if this is where it all goes wrong?”

“I think you forget the countless times things already have gone wrong,” Nesta gently reminded you. “Rhys capturing you, your engagement to Malgorm, much of what you planned has gone awry in some way. Yet it has all worked out – this will, too. Remember, you’re not doing it alone this time. We have Tarquin, Thesan, Helion, Tamlin, and Kallias all helping with the full support of their courts. We will be fine.”

“But the females might not be.” You pointed out, trying to keep your brain from worrying about how the groups could be followed and hunted down on their journey to escape.

“The ones from the Hewn City have Gwyn and Azriel to protect them, and the Illyrian females know the mountain passes better than any of the males. They can handle themselves,” Nesta insisted.

Gwyn had gone back into the Night Court a few hours after the meeting in Solaris to begin her whisper network. You had watched with a mix of pride and worry as she grabbed the shadowsinger’s hand, winnowing back into the very place she would be in the most danger. Somehow, deep down, you knew she would be okay. This was not the shy, frightened Gwyn you had first met in the Library. No, she had grown a new strength that rivalled the toughest steel in the armoury. With Azriel at her side, they would protect the females from the Court of Nightmares.

“Is Emerie still going with you to the Illyrian meetup point?” Nesta asked you, adjusting the armbands on her leathers.

You nodded.

“Good. Illyria will be the hardest path to navigate. Helion, Lucien and I will easily be able to get the Hewn City females to the cove and across the border. But you’ll have to extend your magic quite far into the Steppes, have you rested enough for that?”

“I think so,” you stood up, walking over to your table of breakfast and forcing a few orange slices into your mouth to calm your stomach. It tasted bitter on your tongue, and it took everything in you to swallow it.

Your mate snorted, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “A fat lie. You were tossing and turning so much I was tempted to smother you to sleep,”

Smirking, you turned back to Nesta. “Well, there are ways in which you could smother me that I wouldn’t mind…”

Nesta’s cheeks went red, but she swatted you with her hand towel. “Insatiable thing. Did we not satisfy you enough yesterday before Eris left?”

Now it was your turn to blush and look away. Eris had taken his and Tamlin’s armies on ships up to the Western coast of the Night Court. His goal was to feign an offensive launch to draw out the armies, undoubtedly drawing out Rhysand as well. False negotiations would take place, centring around questioning if Rhysand had dealt with Koschei yet – and if not, all six courts were prepared to attack and eliminate him entirely to break the bargain. But before he had left in his shining High Lord armour, your husband spent hours showing both you and Nesta how much he would miss his wives.

You shook your shoulders, brushing off the heated memories before you pounced on Nesta. The mating bonds in your chest urged you to engage in the frenzy that was common for new mates, but you resisted for now, choosing to change the subject. “So Helion will shelter everyone at the Day Court until me and my ships arrive with the Illyrian females since we don’t have the magic to winnow everyone,” you said, revisiting your plan you had gone over a million times.

Despite your constant repetition, Nesta remained patient. “Yes, my love,” she said. “Tarquin, Cresseida, Kallias, and Vivianne will be with you. I will have Helion and Thesan with me, and we will be waiting for you and the Illyrians to arrive before dividing everyone up.”

At the High Lord’s meeting a few days ago, every ruler had agreed to provide a home to a certain number of refugees. Autumn and Summer were taking the most, followed by Day, Spring, Dawn, and then Winter. “I can accommodate however many you need,” Kallias had said when discussing the logistics. “However, I do not think many will want to come. It is a harsher environment than many are used to, except maybe the Illyrians.”

With every court helping, there was room for thousands of females spread across Prythian. Nesta had played a large role in coordinating with builders and stonemasons from the other courts, sharing her plans and models from Solaris as reference for the construction of more shelters. It was an effort shared by fae all across the lands, a thought which warmed your heart.

“Everything is as in place as it can be, I guess,” you said, glancing outside at the rise of the moon from behind the mountains, a signal that it was time to go. “We are prepared. I just want all of this to be over. Aside from dealing with Koschei, this is the last obstacle to climb before I can finally relax, I think.”

Nesta placed a kiss on your cheek. “Me too. Now let’s go get Emerie, so we can get those females out of there and be done with all this.”

**********************

A surprisingly alert Emerie was already waiting for you in the clearing where Athariel and Zôrzimril waited. The beasts lifted their heads and called out happily, making Emerie flinch.

You laughed, causing the winged female to snap playfully, “Don’t even. Not all of us are used to dragons. Give me a hundred years before you expect me to not jump at those noises.” She donned black leathers with black armour, and that familiar white ribbon across her forehead. Her wings were a blueish black in the moonlight,

“Well you’re about to spend a full day on the back of one so best get used to it quickly.” You grabbed your supply sac from Saeros, nodding your thanks before hauling it over your back. Despite having food, water, and extra clothes, it was not heavy thanks to a special spell from Helion.

Emerie slung her identical sac over her arm. “We ready?”

“This is the most awake I’ve ever seen you at this hour,” Nesta joked from a few feet away where she was greeting Athariel, stroking the silver beast’s nose.

“I’m on a mission, okay?” Emerie shrugged. “Finally being able to help with something really awakens you.”

Colourful leaves crunched underneath your boots as you lead Emerie over to where Zôrzimril was waiting. “You say that like you haven't been up from sunrise to sunset working on Solaris for over two months,” you pointed out.

Emerie’s response was cut off as Zôrzimril lowered her head upon your approach, emitting a low rumbling noise as she eyes up the winged female. Emerie’s eyes were wide, and she stopped in her tracks.

“It’s ok,” you reassured her as you ran your hand down the dragon’s jaw. “She’s just checking you out and saying hi. She won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“If you say so.”

“Come test it yourself. Say hello back.”

After a few protests, you managed to drag Emerie forward until she was face to face with your dragon. Zôrzimril’s nostrils flared, her eyes squinting as she seized up the creature in front of her. Gently, you grabbed Emerie’s hand, placing it on the dragon’s snout. She let out a gasp as her hand made contact with the hard but smooth scales of the beast, jaw slack with wonder.

“Holy shit,” she muttered. “She feels so…”

“Powerful?” You finished your friend’s sentence for her, and she nodded.

“I never thought I’d know what it was to fly,” her voice was faraway, as if her mind and body were disconnected in a drift between memories and dreams. “I guess I will now.”

Nesta had come up to the two of you, pulling you both in for a big hug. You held your mate and your friend, sighing into their comforting touch. “I’ll see you both soon, okay?” Nesta said.

“Stay safe,” Emerie said as she nodded, giving Nesta a squeeze on the shoulder before pulling back and heading towards Zôrzimril cautiously, securing the straps of her backpack across her chest.

Nesta turned to you, a well of emotions swimming in her blue grey eyes. “What we’re doing here is bigger than both of us,” she said. “It will be the final nail in the Night Court’s coffin. I find myself wondering if we have doomed them to a tragic fate in our pursuit for revenge.”

You frowned. “Are you having regrets?”

“No,” Nesta shook her head. “I’m not. But it makes me sad. For as much as I hated the Night Court, it was a beautiful place. Not all of them were bad.”

You took Nesta’s gloved hands in your own. “Velaris will be safe. And we are aiding as many of the females from Illyria and the Hewn City as we can. Rhys may be an arrogant prick, but he is not a complete fool. He will protect his remaining citizens from Koschei – he put himself in this position, not us. He was the one ready to sacrifice them, let him deal with the consequences of those actions. Besides, many may choose to flee regardless of if they come with us or not.”

Your mate sighed, nodding. “You’re right. I just… I keep thinking about Feyre and Elain and the baby. I don’t want anything to do with them, at least not for a long time, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to them.”

“What if we wrote a letter to them?” You offered. “Let them know that should they need it, there will be a place for them at one of the sanctuaries. It doesn’t have to be in Autumn – I am sure Tarquin or Helion would gladly take them in.”

A sad smile came over Nesta’s face. “I’d like that, thank you.”

You knew Nesta’s relationship with her sisters would never be the same after everything that had happened in the last two years. It was a loss she would grieve and carry with her for a while. As much as you didn’t care for the other two Archeron siblings, they, too, had been dragged into the faerie world against their will. Truly, you hoped that one day they’d find happiness and a good home in Prythian, just not with Nesta in the Autumn Court.

Giving Nesta’s hand one last squeeze, you turned towards Zôrzimril and walked over to where Emerie was stroking the beast’s neck. When the dragon saw you approaching, she eagerly dropped her shoulder, extending her wing towards the ground for you to grab onto. So you gently stepped up onto the dragon’s scaling spikes, holding her wing for support and climbing up onto her back. In just a few movements, you settled yourself into the gaps between the horns at the base of Zôrzimril’s neck.

You peered down at Emerie, who went white. “Come on!” You called out in encouragement.

“That’s how you get up?” The Illyrian female baulked, causing you to scoff.

“Did you think we had a ladder or a staircase to get up?”

“Yes, actually!”

“Well time to put those Valkyrie muscles to use and get your ass up here.”

Emerie sighed, muttering to herself but grabbed onto Zôrzimril’s wing shakily. Awkwardly, she managed to scale up the dragon’s shoulder, panting and plopping herself down behind you. “That’s not as easy as you made it look.” She huffed.

You shrugged. “Take’s practice, now clip in.”

Emerie did so, taking the rope that was attached to her belt and clipping it onto the holster that was fitted around Zôrzimril’s nearest horn. You did the same, watching as Athariel spread her mighty silver wings beside you. The beast ran forward and shot into the air with the agility of a cat, and you heard Nesta whoop with delight. She seemed like a speck of dust on the large creature, but you managed to catch a glimpse of her turning her head around to look at you one more time.

Zôrzimril screeched in defiance of being left behind, and you patted her scales. “Volare,” you said to her using the command Eris had taught you. Happy to oblige, the dragon lifted her head, causing Emerie to grasp onto the scales in front of her and curse as she spread her wings and catapulted into the air.

The female behind you let out a yelp, and you lifted your chin to the stars above and sighed deeply, relishing the feeling of climbing higher and higher into the sky. Zôrzimril’s powerful body soared through the clouds, her wings cutting through them like razor sharp blades.

It was only another minute before your ascent finished and you finally broke free of the clouds, and Zôrzimril angled herself straight once more. She let out a happy screech, dipping her claw down to slice through the clouds below as she flew North. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the view. The moon was bright, illuminating everything in a blue-silver tone. The stars shone brightly even with the light of the moon, twinking as if they were greeting you.

Behind you, Emerie’s breathing had steadied. “Holy shit…” She said with awe.

You turned to face your friend. “A bit different than being carried through the skies by an Illyrian male”

“You have no idea…” Her brown eyes were wide with wonder as they drank in the view of the midnight sky. She stretched her wings as far as they could go, sighing. “I never thought I’d feel the wind on my wings like this.”

Despite the cold night air, your heart warmed at seeing your friend so happy. Carefully, she let go of her ironclad grip on Zôrzimril’s horns, letting her arms stretch out to the side. Straightening her shoulders, she tipped her head back and let out a whoop to the stars. Her voice rang out amongst the clear sky, and her smile did not fade all the way to the Night Court.

**********************

Your legs were numb from flying for so long, even a few hours later as you gathered around a small campfire with Emerie, Tarquin, Viviane, and Kallias. A small unit of guards were stationed nearby, ready to jump into action should things go south. Luckily, Kallias had put up a glamour around the beach, shielding both everyone on land and on the ships just offshore from lingering eyes. The Lord and Lady of Winter each donned their white fur coats that, combined with their pale skin and hair, made them glow under moon high. Tarquin wore a simple blue tunic with a deep V, his white hair braided back out of his chiselled face. While unmistakably powerful beings, they were dressed like they were going to a simple meeting rather than a rescue mission – perhaps as to not frighten the females. No doubt there was armour glamoured somewhere, ready to replace their casual attire at the snap of fingers.

“They should be here soon,” Emerie muttered, pacing nervously and glancing at the rocky hills in the distance that led to the Illyrian Mountains where the females would be coming from. The steppes began half a mile away from the rocky beach where you stood, the beige and brown shrubbery rustling in the wind eerily.

At least the mountains had shelter, places to hide from anyone who may try and follow the large groups. But the steppes were out in the open, which made you nervous.

“Give it time,” Tarquin said gently. “This is not a swift moving group of warriors. They are likely burdened with their provisions, as well as children and the sick or elderly.”

“Why can’t we just meet them at the end of the mountain pass and escort them to the beach?” Emerie asked nervously, cracking her knuckles.

“Because we are already in the Night Court’s territory,” Viviane tried to reassure the female, her white hair glowing in the moonlight. “To go farther than this would be considered an invasion.”

“Eris is launching an invasion, why can’t we?” Emerie spoke as if she had not heard half of the Lady of the Winter court’s sentence.

“A false one,” Viviane did not lose her patience as she spoke. “One that is taking place on ship, therefore not encroaching on Rhysand’s borders. Stepping on the beach is easy to overlook, but heading into the Steppes would be an act of war. We have to be cautious.”

Emerie nodded, eyes clouded as she stopped pacing and sat down on a nearby log. You knew your friend’s greatest fear – that only a small group would have made it out of Illyria, leaving hundreds left behind for dead. You prayed that her fears would not come true.

The steady pounding in your head that had started an hour ago began to increase, and you groaned, swaying slightly. The light in your palms that guided the doe you had manifested with your magic and sent deep into the Illyrian Mountains dimmed slightly, but you quickly willed it to strengthen once again. Deep down, you felt thin and stretched from having to extend your magic so far for several hours.

“Are you okay?” Kallias asked, his white brows narrowing with concern.

You nodded. “Magic is tiring… I haven’t kept it going for this long… ever…” Your voice grew strained and weak, all of your energy focused on keeping that white trail of light going. You hated that you couldn’t even tell if there was anyone following it. All you could do was hope that everyone had made it to the designated escape starting point on time.

“She will not last much longer,” Tarquin muttered to his fellow High Lord. “It may yet be another few hours until the group arrives. I expect we will see them around sunrise at this rate.”

You barely heard Kallias’s response, closing your eyes and taking another deep breath. You could feel Nesta trying to reach you through the mating bond, but didn’t have the energy to respond. You could tell she was already in the Day Court, having succeeded in aiding the escape from the Court of Nightmares. And you wanted to reassure her that you were fine, that all was going well. But you couldn’t. You were swimming in a sea of your own powerful magic, but your body was not equipped to handle the strain.

“Hey, stay with us.” Your eyes snapped open at Viviane’s voice. She had come to stand at your side along with Emerie, an arm around your waist steadily supporting your unstable figure. Her blue eyes were laced with concern and she took in your exhausted form and turned to her husband. “She won’t be able to hold out until sunrise.”

“I can do it…” You muttered, mustering as much determination into your voice as you could.

“No, you cannot,” Kallias said sternly. “You are not used to wielding magic for this long of a period. It requires extreme focus, especially for something as complicated as this. And you’ve been at it for several hours already, it is taking its toll and sooner or later you will pass out from exhaustion.”

Guilt wracked you, and you fought off tears. You felt like a failure as you whispered, “I’m sorry…”

“Do not be,” Viviane assured you gently. “This is not a simple matter of setting up a ward or a glamour and leaving it be. You’re guiding a strange new type of magic none of us have seen before through miles of terrain that is unknown to you. Give yourself a break.”

“I can’t… stop…” You protested, vision going in and out.

“So don’t,” came Tarquin’s voice. “I’ll give you a boost.”

Beside you, Emerie frowned. “A boost?”

You heard stones shift as Tarquin stepped around the fire, coming to stand in front of you. “Yes,” he said. “I can channel some of my magic into her to keep her body strong enough.”

“That’s a thing?” Your Illyrian friend asked.

“It is rarely done, as it is difficult to do, but yes.” Came Tarquin’s reply.

“Do it…” You spoke up weakly, every syllable dragging out like a heavy stone. All you wanted to do was collapse into a soft bed and sleep for a year. Kallias was right, you couldn’t do this on your own.

“I must warn you, it will feel strange,” Tarquin’s voice sounded, and you felt Viviane and Emerie step away as the High Lord of the Summer Court took your hand that was not glowing with a trail of magic. “My magic is very different from yours, and your first instinct may be to expel it. Refrain from resisting.”

You nodded, opening your eyes and looking up at Tarquin. He nodded, and his hand moved up to your wrist, clamping down. You rotated your arm slightly to do the same, taking a deep breath. The male began to emit a soft glow, the whites of his eyes seeming to brighten and give him an otherworldly quality.

Seconds later, you felt it.

Tarquin’s magic pushed into your body, and you gasped sharply. It was like a tidal wave was being slammed into you, a raging sea coursing through your veins. It felt the complete opposite of Nesta and Eris’s comforting fire, or your own light-filled power.

Your entire body felt like a riptide, and you could practically taste the salty air of summer on your tongue as your bones vibrated with new magic. You willed yourself to relax, to accept the foreign power being pumped into you. As you did so, your limbs felt stronger. Exhaustion was chased away, and you were finally able to open your eyes. A thin, golden band of magic circled in figure eights between your attached hands, dancing and twisting around each other.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Tarquin.

He nodded. “We must remain linked for the magic to prevail. An hour should give your body enough time to recover and reset.”

With renewed energy, you felt the white light in your free palm glow brighter, urging the Illyrian females out of the mountains.

**********************

The sun was beginning to creep up five hours later, and Tarquin’s boost of magic had vanished a while ago. Viviane was now holding you up once again, your head droopy as you fought to keep that light strong. You felt it was close, which made it easier to hang on.

“They’re approaching,” You said through gasped breaths.

Emerie shot up from where she was sitting, the jerky she was chewing on falling to the ground. “You can feel them?” She asked eagerly.

“No,” you responded as Kallias, Tarquin, and the soldiers perked up. “But my magic feels close, and we have to assume that means they are close as well.”

Tarquin turned to one of his guards. “Winnow to the ships and tell Cresseida we are almost ready to receive the refugees.” He ordered, and the guard disappeared within seconds.

The hope in Emerie’s eyes as she gazed into the Steppes rekindled some strength within you. You gently pushed yourself off of Viviane, taking a shaky step towards where Emerie was looking.

“What’s that?” Viviane asked, pointing to one of the rocky hills in the distance near the mountains. Both the High Lords joined her where she stood a few feet away from you and Emerie.

A faint, glowing white doe stood upon the hill. Stardust seemed to swirl around its feet as it leapt over the rocks bounding through the plains towards the beach. Everyone held their breath, silence filling the air.

“Come on…” Emerie muttered nervously.

Moments later, a set of wings appeared where the doe was – a female carrying a lit torch. She was so far away, even with your fae eyesight it was hard to tell for sure who it was. But then another one appeared beside her, slightly taller, carrying a large sac.

“Lift the glamour!” Viviane barked at Kallias, who snapped his fingers. The air shimmered for a second before clearing. The doe continued to bound toward you, getting fainter and fainter as you felt the last bit of energy you had controlling your magic slipping.

More and more sets of wings appeared over the rocky hill, the torches going from one to a hundred in minutes. Like an army ready for battle, hundreds and hundreds of winged females stepped down onto the plains. Emerie let out a choked sob from beside you.

“By the Mother…” Tarquin gasped softly. “They made it!”

“There’s so many of them…” Viviane said with awe as more and more torches and winged bodies funnelled out of the mountain pass. Sure enough, through your blurry and exhausted vision, you managed to make out the sight of a swarm of bodies stepping onto the flat stretch, shuffling towards the now glamour-free beach.

As they grew closer and guards scurried about with preparations, you breathed a sigh of relief. And then the world grew dark as you collapsed into Tarquin’s arms with exhaustion.

**********************

An otherworldly headache pounded against your skull as you blinked open your eyes, the golden sunlight shining into your face too bright to handle. Your entire body felt heavy, like a stone at the bottom of the ocean. When you groaned, a familiar hand brushed some hair out of your face.

“Why hello there,” came the familiar silky voice of Eris.

With as much effort as you could, you pried your eyes open and blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness. Eris was seated beside you, leaning against the frame of the bed you were laying in with a book in one hand. He donned a white shirt with a deep v-neck and loose sleeves, paired with light green trousers. His long red hair was braided back, a few strands framing his sharp face. He smiled gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted,” you mumbled, relaxing into his touch as he continued to stroke your face. “Where am I?”

“One of Helion’s quarters,” Eris said, bringing a cup of water to your lips and coaxing the liquid into your mouth. “You passed out right as the Illyrians arrived, and Tarquin brought you straight here.”

The Illyrians.

You sat up abruptly, ignoring the protest of your tired body. “They made it? The ships got them here safely?”

Eris smiled, nodding. “Yes, my dear. All eight thousand of them.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Eight thousand? How many came from the Hewn City?”

“Five thousand, as to be expected. Many families had already made it to Velaris safely, so there were not as many females as in Illyria left behind.”

The room spun around you with shock. The white marble bookcases across from your bed seemed to sway, and you shook your head. “Wow,” was all you could murmur.

Eris gently pulled you against his chest, kissing your head. “Wow, indeed. I am so proud of you, my dear. You’ve saved the lives of thirteen thousand females today. They know what you did for them, and Nesta has had to practically barricade your door to keep them from barging in here to thank you.”

“Where is Nesta?” You asked.

“She will be here in a few minutes,” Eris replied. “You began to stir half an hour ago, so I sent word to her. She was with the other High Lords helping crunch numbers for which courts are taking which females.”

You sighed with content, the warmth of Eris’s body relaxing you. You turned on your side, wrapping an arm around him and snuggling closer to your mate. “I can’t believe we pulled that off,” you murmured.

Eris cocked his head, setting his book aside on the table. “Why? It was a good plan, and we thought through every possible scenario to ensure its success.”

“How did negotiations with Rhys go?”

Your husband let out a sharp laugh. “Seeing Rhysie is always such a treat,” he chuckled. “He fell for the bait quite easily. We waited for half a day in our ships before the Illyrians descended from the skies and the Darkbringers appeared on the shoreline, all ready for a battle that would not happen. I demanded an audience, and Rhys complied. I talked his ear off for a few hours, and let him whine about the supposed unfairness of all this. It got painfully dull after a while, but I found out something very interesting…”

You perked up, peering up at the male who had a smug look on his face. “What?”

“Rhysand broke his bargain with Koschei. After the baby was born, he travelled to the depths of the lake in which the Death God dwells and declared his intentions to not hold up his end. There was a price to be paid, of course, one I find very symbolic.

“Rhys has relinquished almost all of his power to Koschei. His magic was ripped out of him and fed to the beasts beneath the lake floors like a bone to a dog. He was left with the bare minimum to keep Velaris safe enough, but that’s it. Furthermore, he is required to visit Koschei once a month for a week – a mirror of that very same bargain he made with dear Feyre over a year ago. By doing so, he guaranteed Koschei will not go after Nesta, not with a new plaything at his disposal.”

Your jaw went slack. “Rhys… lost his powers?” You repeated in shock.

Eris didn’t even bother trying to refrain his smile from widening. “Yes. I think it’s justice, personally. I cannot say I feel bad for him in the slightest. It also seems Feyre told him that in the process of breaking the bargain, he had to find a way to keep Nesta alive as well. For all his faults, he will do whatever Feyre asks of him at this point. That is a blessing for us.”

You exhaled shakily. Rhys was one of the most powerful High Lords, now diminished to a regular High Fae male in a small city. There would be no gaining control of Illyria and the Hewn City now with this loss of power, you realised. “I can’t believe this…” You said, still rattled with shock.

Eris rubbed your shoulder. “Anywho, once he told me that story we made some reassurances to each other. Me and Tamlin’s ships departed slowly, giving the armies more time to linger and make sure we had left before returning home to find almost half of their population gone. The distraction worked perfectly, I am sure they are in a tizzy about it as we speak.”

Before you could answer, the door to your guest chambers swung open to reveal Nesta. Her hair was in a singular braid, hanging across her shoulder. She wore a shining gold dress that was carefully draped over one shoulder, the fabric hanging loosely across her chest. Your eyes popped open, and Eris laughed beside you.

“I have never seen you wear something like this before,” he chuckled.

Rolling her eyes, Nesta closed the door behind her and came over to sit on your other side. “Oh, please,” she snapped. “Helion picked it out personally. I couldn’t not wear it, it’s his court after all.”

“I’m not complaining,” you insisted as Nesta gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“He is a relentless flirt,” Eris said, amused. “But one with good taste.”

You sighed as Nesta rubbed your back, despite her death glare she sent at Eris. The three of you sat in silence for a few minutes, happy to be back in each other’s company. With your mates by your side, the weariness you had felt began to diminish.

“I want to see the females,” you said. “I want to make sure they’re okay.”

“Emerie is taking good care of them and the dragons are guarding the borders,” Nesta said gently. “You need to rest.”

You shook your head, sitting up and peeling the soft duvet off. You crawled over Eris’s legs, unsteadily placing your feet on the white marble ground.

“Take it easy,” Eris chided, holding your elbow. “Your body is exhausted. You can see them tomorrow.”

“No,” you said sharply, standing up like a newborn deer and heading over to the closet in the corner. “After everything we’ve done to see this through, I need to see them with my own eyes.”

Nesta and Eris exchanged a glance, but didn’t protest. You ignored them and grabbed the white dress Helion had hung up in there for you, peeling off your nightgown. You pulled the soft fabric on, tying the gold belt around your waist. “Where are they staying right now?” You asked.

“Many are in the main hall,” Eris replied, standing up. “Others are in temporary camps set up across the fields. I believe those residing in the main hall are currently at dinner.”

“Great,” you said, holding out your hand. “Take me there, please.”

“As you wish,” Nesta said, taking your other arm while Eris grasped your extended hand.

After ten minutes of meandering through Helion’s royal hallways, you came to the dinner room, passing through the white columns at the entrance.

Your jaw nearly dropped. Hundreds of females sat at tables or on comfortable floor mats, hearty soups in hand as they chatted quietly amongst themselves. A group of musicians played in the corner, the gentle tune echoing in the grand chamber. Dozens of eyes turned towards you as Eris and Nesta led you through the crowd towards the table at the front, where Emerie, Tamlin, Lucien, Helion, Thesan, Tarquin, Cresseida, Kallias, and Viviane were seated. Gwyn and Azriel sat at the end, partially hidden in the shadows. When your friend saw you, she smiled brightly and waved. You breathed a sigh of relief, seeing her safe after everything she had done.

Lucien stood up, coming around the front of the table to greet you. His eye gleamed with pride as he opened his arms. “Come here, you,” he said cheerfully.

Peeling away from your mates, you lept into Lucien’s arms, hugging him tightly. Your friend chuckled, squeezing you reassuringly. “Glad you made it out okay,” he said.

“You too,” you replied, pulling away and smiling at him. “We did it. We really did it.”

“I told you, you’d make a good High Lady,” came a familiar gruff voice. Tamlin had risen as well, approaching behind Lucien and offering you a small smile. “We are all very proud.”

“Thank you, Tam.” You said gratefully. His large hand patted you on the back before returning to his place at the table.

Nesta gently grabbed your hand. “Come, you must eat.” She guided you towards one of the three empty chairs at the centre of the long table. It was covered in various fruits, roasted vegetables with sauces, and about ten different kinds of meat. Your mouth watered as you realised how hungry you were.

On the way, you stopped beside Gwyn and Azriel, leaning down to hug your friend. “Thank goodness you’re okay,” you murmured into Gwyn’s shoulder.

“Ye of little faith,” she said sarcastically “I was fine. All I did was chat up some priestesses, they were the ones who mostly spread the word. I was safe and sound.”

You pulled away. “Come join us at our end of the table!”

The priestess shook her head. “I’m okay here, it’s too crowded over there.”

“You mean you want to just sit here and ogle Azriel,” Nesta singsonged with a gleam in her eyes.

Gwyn’s face went red, and to your surprise, Azriel flushed slightly as well. “Shut the fuck up,” she snapped at Nesta playfully, shifting in her seat.

“It’s okay, Gwyn,” Eris piped up, winking at the shadowsinger, who seemed like he wanted to bury himself alive. “He is quite pretty to look at. But should you change your mind and like to join us, let us know.”

You laughed, Gwyn’s muttering and cussing you out as you, Nesta, and Eris took your seats at the table. As you dove into the plate of food in front of you, you tuned into the lively sounds of the room while Nesta and Eris began chatting with Helion.

Many of the females kept glancing at you, some offering smiles or nods before returning to their company. Some were huddled in the corner, eyes wary as they consistently scanned their surroundings. You wondered how many females had similar stories to Emerie, or to Morrigan. How many had suffered for years and accepted it because they believed that is how things would always be? How many had been spared future suffering because of their escape?

As you downed your goblet of wine, you reminisced on that day in the House of Wind last year when you had first started your plan to flee the Night Court and seek revenge on its leaders. Never did you think that it would go this far, that you would accomplish this much. All you had wanted was to be free and be able to make your own choices. And now it led to seeking that same outcome for thousands of others.

Rhys could never hurt you again. Those painful images of that cruel, dark mist lashing your bare skin over and over again would fade into distant memory eventually, with no fear of it ever happening again. He couldn’t lock you or Nesta up, or threaten you. No, you both had more power than him now by a long measure. You were finally free from his grasp.

A year ago you had been angry at Feyre, too. Part of you still was, and delighted in the karmic justice of destroying part of her court in retribution. But you hoped for her sake, that she would accept the help offered in the letter Nesta had planned to send. For a moment, you wondered if Feyre would still be who she was now if she hadn’t met Rhys.

“What are you thinking about?” Eris asked you, leaving Nesta to argue with Helion herself.

His amber eyes were soft and kind, the cruel mask that he had plastered on for so many centuries cracked and slipped away. The world could see Eris for who he truly was not, not just as Beron’s firstborn son.

You smiled. “How I can’t wait for everything here to be sorted so we can go home.”

“Me too, my dear, me too.” He squeezed your hand and surveyed the room again. “You have accomplished what many in the likes of my father deemed impossible. Now even the most stubborn fae realise that things can change fast if they will it so. That is a very good thing.”

“Yes, it is.”

The road ahead would not be without challenge. Settling thirteen thousand females into six courts would be a process, and there would surely be setbacks along the way. But after a year of being tortured, beaten, sneaking around and scheming, you were ready for some normal problems.

“Eris?” You said.

He turned to face you once again. “Yes?”

“I love you. And thank you, for everything you’ve done. None of this would have been possible if you hadn’t agreed to help me last year.”

The High Lord of the Autumn Court laughed, kissing your cheek gently. “It is I who should be thanking you. Both of you. You freed me from the prison of my old life. And not just me, but thousands of others. I intend on spending eternity thanking you for it.”

So you laced one hand in Eris’s, and the other in Nesta’s as they both looked at you with so much love in their eyes you were sure you would explode. As much as you liked the Day Court, you yearned to be back in Autumn where you belonged, under the bright trees and wandering the forest paths. As if echoing your thoughts, Zôrzimril’s call echoed on the wind like an ancient song.

And so the yellow rays of sunshine morphed into orange and red, and the sun began to set. You felt a faint brush of a hand on your shoulder, and a familiar, ethereal voice sounded in your ear barely above a whisper.

Well done, my child.

As the sun finally disappeared behind the mountains, the echoing voice faded with it.

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