Word count: 2495

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐅 them quickly arrived in a nice neighbourhood, parking right outside the house of Vanya's boyfriend AKA Leonard Peabody AKA Harold Jenkins AKA the cause of the fucking apocalypse.

"Be careful, okay?" Allison warned as they headed up the lawn, her raising her hand in front of her eyes to block the sun. "We don't know what Peabody's capable of."

"Yeah, he didn't seem too dangerous when I first saw him," Diego remarked with a shrug as they neared the porch. "Looked kinda scrawny."

"Yeah, well, so are most serial killers and mass murderers," Valerie pointed out before gesturing to Five with a small grin. "I mean, look at him."

Five gave her a sarcastic smile. "Thanks."

"Good point." Diego nodded, sending a wink towards Five, who only rolled his eyes in return. "So what's this guy want with Vanya?"

"I don't know." Five shrugged as they went up the stairs towards the house's entrance. "How about we ask him after we kill him?"

Valerie turned towards him, her eyebrows raised as she chided, "Five."

"Kidding, kidding," Five reassured her as he raised his hands in surrender. He then leaned towards Diego, shaking his head as he muttered, "Not kidding."

"Whoa, whoa. Hey, look, I'm gonna burst through . . ." Diego slowed down, leaning over to see that Allison had gone off in a different direction in order to get into the house before sighing. "You know what? It would be nice for people just to stick to—"

Five disappeared into a flash of white, spatial jumping into the house.

"—the plan," Diego sighed before looking at Valerie, who was approaching the door and sizing it up with her eyes. "Not you too."

"Me too." She grinned before phasing through the door and entering the foyer of the house.

She moved to the side just as Diego jumped through the glass of the door. The glass shattered into a million pieces, sprawling across the wooden floor as Diego landed face-first, crying out loudly.

"Subtle," Valerie commented as Five and Allison approached, looking amused at Diego's burst.

Five furrowed his eyebrows before wrapping his hand around the crystal doorknob and pulling the door open. He looked back to Diego, a smirk growing on his face as he commented, "You know, the door was unlocked."

"Yeah, well, my way works just fine," Diego groaned as he got up to his feet, brushing off the small fragments of glass that were sticking to his clothes. "Spread out," he instructed as he began to limp towards the kitchen. "Yell if you, uh . . . you know, you're in trouble."

Five inclined towards Valerie, his hands in his pockets as he murmured, "Ah, inspiring leadership."

She nodded seriously as she leaned towards him and amusedly agreed, "One of the greats."

As Allison went off towards the bedrooms, Valerie and Five made their way to the living room, though her attention was only focused on his slight limp as they headed there.

She had no time to question it, however, as they began their search, and her mind soon drifted towards finding clues. 

"What exactly are we supposed to be looking for?" Five questioned as he examined the room, his eyebrows knit tightly together.

"Anything suspicious." Valerie shrugged as she looked through the glass casings filled with china. "Stuff that proves he's a bad dude or what he wants with Vanya."

"Isn't the police file enough?" Five raised his eyebrows, a small scoff escaping his lips as he pointed out, "Does the murder conviction not prove that?"

Valerie rolled her eyes, leaning over towards him and swatting his arm as she told him, "Shut up."

"Okay, well, I don't see anything." Five shrugged, leaning forward on the top of the white couch.

"Maybe because you aren't looking?" Valerie pointed out with a miffed smile. 

As Five rolled his eyes, she continued searching the room, checking under couch cushions and rifling through every drawer she came across, her frown growing more prominent with every failed search.

"Val," Five said all of a sudden as he straightened up.

She stopped combing through the items on the desk and looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. "What's up?"

"That thing I was trying to tell you earlier . . . ," he started, his voice beginning to quiver slightly as he glanced around him.

She felt her heart rate spike. Oh God, this better be something good and not something that'll shatter her heart just as Diego did to the door.

"I just wanted to say that I—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Allison shouted down towards them, "Guys, you need to see this!"

Five groaned as he and Valerie set off towards the attic, where they joined Allison and Diego. Valerie's eyes widened in horror when she saw the reason why Allison had so urgently yelled at them.

On the sides of the wooden bookcases were posters of the Umbrella Academy kids, both individual and group pictures, with their eyes scratched out. 

Sitting on top of the shelves were multiple figurines of each Umbrella Academy member, their faces melted off and some of them were missing chunks of themselves.

"All our faces are burnt off," Allison said with disgust as the four of them huddled in front of the shelves filled with messed-up figurines.

"Well, that's not creepy," Diego remarked as his eyes drifted from one disturbing thing to the next. "This guy's got some serious issues. Shit."

"This was never about Vanya." A look of realization dawned on Allison's face as she shook her head. "This was about us."

Valerie turned to look at Five with worry as he began to gasp quietly, his attention now on the right area of his stomach.

"Five?" she questioned as his hands drifted towards that area on his sweater vest.

He didn't respond, instead just falling backwards onto the ground with a loud thump!

"Five!" Valerie exclaimed as she dropped to her knees beside him, Diego coming behind her as Allison went to his other side. "Wha—" She grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and lifted it up, letting out a gasp as she saw what lay underneath.

His skin was painted red with blood, it having soaked the white button-up that had been hidden by his patterned sweater vest. Blood oozed out of a small hole, which seemed to have been caused by the piece of shrapnel that was encased in his skin.

Five clutched onto Valerie's hand as she stared at the wound with fright. How the hell had this happened?

"Jesus, Five. Why didn't you say anything?" Diego questioned incredulously as he took in the sight of the wound.

"You have to keep going," Five moaned softly. "So" —his breathing began to slow— "close." He stopped moving, his head lolling to the side as he fell unconscious.

"Five!" Valerie exclaimed and rested her hand against his cheek as Diego slapped the other one.

"He's losing blood," Allison panicked, her eyes worriedly fixated on the blood that was gushing out. "What do we do?"

"We gotta get the shrapnel out," Diego answered immediately as he looked toward her. "How?"

"Uh . . . I think I can—" Valerie thought for a moment before sighing. "Well, I hope this works."

"What are you going to do?" Diego questioned.

"Hope?!" Allison repeated at the same time.

Valerie closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart as she began to vibrate her hand as fast as possible. She then reached two fingers into the area of the wound, and let her hand stop vibrating for the shortest amount of time as she pinched the side of the shrapnel, then vibrating both the shrapnel and her hand as she took it out of his skin.

"What . . . ?" Diego's eyes were wide as her hand and the shrapnel became solid once more.

"Okay." She tossed the bloody shrapnel off to the side and exhaled before telling them, "I'm going to run him back to the Academy and take care of him. You guys—meet me there, or go do whatever there is left to do."

The two nodded as Valerie scooped Five up into her arms and dashed towards the Academy. As soon as she arrived, she placed him down in his bed before grabbing a first aid kit and rushing back to his side.

"You're so dumb," she muttered to his unhearing body as she unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his blood-stained stomach. She grabbed a clean towel and began to clean his wound. "So fucking dumb. I can't believe you, Five."

After stitching it up, she cut out a piece of gauze and placed it over his wound, taping it down so that it wouldn't move. The blood began to soak through, a deep scarlet overtaking the white.

Groaning softly, Valerie gently tore off the gauze and replaced it with a new one, which also soon was covered in blood. After replacing that one (which was filling with blood much more slowly than the other ones), she cleaned up her supplies.

As she moved the first aid kit to his desk, she heard Five croak, "Val?"

"Five!" She instantly turned around and walked towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she quickly asked, "Are you okay?"

"Ugh," was all he could reply.

Valerie smiled sympathetically before speeding away and bringing back a couple of Tylenol and a glass of water. She handed it to him, watching as he slowly sat up and took the medicine, gulping down the water afterwards.

"What happened?" he mumbled as he gave her the empty glass and sent her a small smile of appreciation.

"We were looking at the figurines of us that Vanya's boyfriend had burned, and then you passed out," Valerie explained as she put the glass on his desk, and sighed. "So then I took the shrapnel out and brought you back here."

"Thanks," he groaned as slowly sat up and leaned himself against the headboard.

"Hey—careful!" she exclaimed as she rushed towards him, seeing a flow of blood drench the gauze. She sighed before grabbing the gauze and tape, leaving the first aid kit open on the desk.

"Oh," he muttered, though he didn't seem all too fazed.

"Why did you lie to me, Five? I could've helped you before, you idiot," Valerie murmured as she took the gauze off and cleaned the blood that poured out of the wound.

"Didn't want to . . . distract from . . . Jenkins," Five grumbled slowly, watching as Valerie placed a new piece of gauze and taped it down.

She paused as she looked up at him, a roll of tape in her hand. "Five," she said softly, "you are much more important than Harold Jenkins."

"Not really," he said as she put the gauze and tape into the first aid box. "Harold Jenkins is the cause of the end of the fucking world."

"And you are the only person who can help us stop it," Valerie pointed out as she sat down next to him, her eyebrows raising. "So we need you, Five. We can't have you dying on us."

"You guys would have been fine," Five mumbled as he slowly buttoned his shirt back up and shook his head, "you have his name now, that's enough to stop the apocalypse."

"Okay, fine then. I need you, Five," she said sincerely. "When I was alone for those twelve years, the only thing on my mind was you." She paused for a moment before giving a small shrug and adding, "Also cookies, but those are irrelevant right now. Seriously though, please don't sacrifice yourself just so we can get to a solution quicker."

"Val . . ." Five stared at her for a moment, his green eyes examining every inch of her face. He then rested one hand on her cheek, wincing slightly as he turned his body towards her but continuing nonetheless.

Valerie's heart began to pound in her chest as his face drew nearer and nearer, and she feared that he could perhaps hear it (although she knew that was impossible). Finally, his lips met hers, and butterflies exploded into her stomach, filling her entire body. She put her hand on his shoulder, gripping it softly as they expressed longing through the movement of their lips.

He pulled away after a moment, a slightly agitated expression on his face, different from the usual cocky one. "Val," he spoke, glancing down at his wound, which thankfully wasn't bleeding as much, "I want to say this before fucking Pogo comes in and interrupts us or something, but I..." He took a deep breath, his voice beginning to tremble. "I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you ever since we were like, fourteen, but I never... I couldn't bring myself to tell you."

Valerie froze in her spot. Him kissing her had been enough to surprise her, but him telling her loved her? That he felt the same way she did this whole time? She never thought it would've been possible!

Valerie gaped at him for a moment before she brought herself back into reality and breathed out, "I'm in love with you too."

"Seriously?" he asked in surprise as his eyebrows furrowed. He lifted a finger and jabbed it in her direction as he warned, "If you're lying to make me feel better, I'm going to kill you."

"Very romantic." Valerie rolled her eyes in amusement as she giggled and shook her head. "I'm not lying, dumbass."

"You sure?" Five interrogated as he squinted his eyes at her and tilted his head. "Because I—shit," he groaned, his hand beginning to move towards his injury as he winced.

She grabbed his hand and moved it away as she instructed, "No touching, moron. Lay down and sleep."

Five furrowed his eyebrows, protesting, "But we just—"

"Sleep!" Valerie instructed as she slid off the bed, pointing towards his pillow. "You'll feel better in the morning."

"Goddammit," he muttered as he laid himself back down, glaring at her while he did so.

Valerie walked to Five's side, turning off the lamp that was on the nightstand next to the bed. She crouched down so that their faces were at the same level and planted a kiss on his cheek before whispering, "Goodnight, Five."

He was silent for a few moments, glaring at her in an attempt to stay mad at her, but soon gave in. 

"Goodnight," he mumbled, a small smile tugging at his lips.

She closed the door behind her as she left. It felt as though she couldn't force her lips into anything but a smile, and her heart hadn't stopped fluttering for the past few minutes. 

She was about to head towards her room when she saw something that made her stop in her tracks and forget all about what had happened: 

Grace walking down the stairs, very much alive.

"Mom?" Valerie uttered softly, her eyes widening as they processed who stood in front of her. 

Grace turned towards Valerie, a warm smile on her face. She walked up to her, greeting, "Hello, Valerie, darling."

"How are you" —Valerie's eyebrows furrowed— "walking around?"

She lifted Grace's forearm, which showed stitched skin over the control panel that was hidden underneath. Someone had fixed her—but who?

"One foot in front of the other," Grace chuckled lightly. "Why? How do you do it?"