☂︎ 𝔱𝔰𝔲 | ❛ ɴᴏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀꜱᴛᴇ ❜

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄, not much time had passed before her mind returned to the previous night. Pulling herself from the comfort of her mattress-she had been so tired the night before she had skipped her nightly routine and walked straight into bed, clothes still on-she made her way to her living room where she expected her long-lost brother to be waiting. Five? She called, her voice carrying out into her empty apartment. To her dismay, the makeshift bed on the couch lay untouched.

"Shit!" She hissed, the realization hitting harder than she preferred.

Vanya should have realized he would have ducked the second she left the room. So much had happened in a matter of hours and she wasn't sure if she could handle more change.

Vanya didn't expect to find herself at the academy again so soon. But here she was, wandering through its yawning halls and into the belly of the beast for a second time.

"Five?" She inwardly cringed at the larger echo of her voice carrying that name, it still held unpleasant memories. "You upstairs?"

Silence is all that met her ears, and the thought wanders into her mind; what forty-five years of this silence could possibly have been like. The kind of toll it would have on a person. It was a wonder he showed up at all.

"Five? You here?"

Just as the last of her hopes had begun to wither, a breath of relief fled her lips when she spotted a patch of coal-black hair standing in the window. He was holed up in his room like he often was when they were little.

"Oh, thank god," She huffed from his doorway, drawing his frown away from the window. "You had me worried sick, you know,"

"I had an errand to run," he mumbles distractedly. His concentration was back on the street as his left-hand fiddles with the eye in his pocket, completely oblivious to the scornful look his sister was giving him from his doorway.

"Well, you could have told me! Or," she scoffed, the hurt in her voice finally clear to Five. "left a note at least. Last time you left like that--"

He was facing her now, realizing all too late his mistakes. Vanya couldn't find it in herself to finish her sentence and she didn't need to. She just sighed, meeting him halfway in the center of the room as her anger melted away just about as quickly as it had manifested. She was just glad he was okay.

"I'm sorry," he says, in a genuine tone very few have had the chance to hear from Five Hargreeves. "You're right, I shouldn't have left like that."

Her lips flattened in a small, sad smile and she was suddenly reminded of their talk the previous night. The reason he probably wanted to leave so badly, she thought.

"I'm sorry too," she admits. "You know, I was dismissive and I guess I didn't know how to process what you were saying. And I still don't, to be honest."

"Maybe you were right to be dismissive," he ponders. He catches the look in his sister's eye and continues before she can dispute him. He scoffs to himself, finding something on his dresser to fiddle with, rather than the possibility he spoke of. "Maybe it wasn't real after all."

He knew in his heart it was. After all, the pain he carried with him from that dark time was. Everything and everyone from that time was real, he knew in his core. But he'd play along. And try not to let the words get to his head.

Five returned to Vanya, hands slipping back into his pockets where they felt most comfortable and dismissed the needless longing. But once again, the presence of the prosthetic sat in his khakis like a weight.

"Like the old man said," he shrugged bitterly. "Time travel can contaminate the mind."

"You know, maybe I'm not the right person for you to be talking to?" She finally offers. "I used to see someone, for a while. After I got out. A therapist, I could give you her information...?"

Five fights the instinct of a bitter laugh. Very very few people on this planet could get away with suggesting such a thing to Five Hargreeves, and Vanya just happened to be one of them. He was aware of her good intentions and her empathetic heart. But dealing with his well-being was the last thing on his to-do list, not that he planned on sharing that with his well-meaning sister.

"I think I'm just gonna get some rest," he concludes. "It's been a long time since I've had a good sleep."

Against her better judgment, Vanya nods and swallows any urge to help further. "Okay," she says, and a grateful look flashing in her brother's eyes tells her she made the right choice.

It's the last exchange between the two before she turns and disappears into the hallway. No sooner had she did Five's wardrobe doors pop open to reveal Klaus, stumbling out of his impromptu hiding spot.

"That's so..." crooned Klaus, ignoring the thundering clatter of tin lunch boxes and old baseballs falling to the floor as he knocked into them. "touching, all that stuff about family and dad and time. Wow!"

"Would you shut up? She'll hear you. Or have you forgotten our sister has super-focused hearing?" Five hissed, stopping altogether to once over his brother's unusual attire. "And I told you to put on something professional."

Offended, Klaus gestures to his frilly paisley button-up and tight leather leggings. "What? This is my nicest outfit! And what happened to hearing our news? You said you'd listen,"

Already moving on and itching to get his end of the deal over with, Five sighs and heads for the hallway. "We'll raid the old man's closet before we go, you can tell me then."

Klaus' shoulders fell, and he scurried after his brother heading for the stairs. Truthfully, he didn't know how he was going to convince Five to stay without giving away the big reveal. And if he did, who knows if Five would believe him.

"Hey now," Klaus breathed, trying to hide his disappointment. "You said you'd listen. I'm doing your... weird little thing, and I'm not even asking questions. Yet. The least you can do is give ten-twenty minutes of your time,"

"I'm listening now," Five parries, stopping at the top of the stairs, clearly impatient to get going. "And I'm paying you. I'd start now if I were you,"

"It's not that simple," Klaus' eyes darted down the stairs, almost as if he was hoping for someone, Five noticed. "If you could just wait here with us, for like--"

"--I don't have that kind of time, Klaus--"

"--ten minutes? Ten minutes! Come on, you can't--?"

"--I don't have that kind of time, Klaus!"

A deep breath was released from his lungs in the form of a pitiful scoff as Klaus looked down at his younger/older brother. The sting that usually came with a lack of his siblings' respect for him was lingering, but it didn't hurt quite as much as it did now. For the simple reason, he saw fear in Five's eyes, not annoyance. Five was scared, for a reason Klaus had yet to understand. And maybe he didn't need to understand right now.

Maybe, for both their sakes, he needed to stall.

"Okay," Klaus surrenders. "Fine. But if I'm still gonna help you, I'm gonna need to clear up some of the finer details. You want me to go in this place and pretend to be your dear old dad, correct?"

The reluctant, analytical look he was receiving told Klaus he was doing just that. "Yeah. Something like that."

"So what's our cover story then?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I mean, was I really young when I had you? Like, sixteen? Like, young and terribly misguided?"

"Sure...?"

"Your mother-that slut!-whoever she was, we met at..." a smile came to his face, brightened with an idea. "the disco. Okay?" He laughs. "Remember that! Oh my god, the sex was amaaaaaaazzzzinnng--"

"--What a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain," Five finally huffs.

"Hey! Don't make me put you in time out!"

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Few eyes went undrawn upon Diego's sudden and boisterous return to the Fighting Lion. The man everyone knew to be the charming and somewhat elusive regular had practically come barreling through the doors, sweat beading down his neck and panic kindling in his eyes.

"Hey Diego," trailed the curious voice of another regular. "What's--?"

"--Yeah, hey Nigel." Diego pants half-mindedly, gaze set dead ahead for the hall.

Too preoccupied with her stance and form, the woman in the ring only just notices the man speed walking past the front counter. "What's up, Diego?"

The man doesn't spare a glance, nor does he lose a notch in his brisk pace. She falters altogether when she sees the near wild look in his eyes as they dart across the room. When he does answer her, it's in a distracted call he throws over his shoulder before he disappears around the corner altogether.

"Yeah, you too!"

Completely at a loss, the woman shakes her head, hoping for his sake she was overthinking things. And with a shrug, she got back to training.

Jesus, he was in such deep shit. The good news was, at the very least, nothing seemed to have happened.

That he knew of.

The place wasn't flipped upside down and no one was chilling on the ceiling so that was a good sign.

Wait... Shit. Was that a bad sign? Had that meant you had left? Would he have to scour the city? Would-?

The wild half-formed thoughts spiraling in his mind like a gathering tornado came to a sudden standstill the moment he reached the boiler room door. It was standing ajar, with a not-so-clear window inside to the one waiting for him; not you but his brother.

'Yeah? And who here has the biggest motive?'

Diego's jaw tightens as he faces his back to the door, allowing his brother's accusations from the previous night to flood his veins with anger. Diego wasn't naive, he knew how Luther saw you. So what possible reason could he have to be here, bothering you? Hell, there was no doubt in Diego's mind he came here to interrogate you. To question you until you slipped up enough for him to pin something on you.

Diego's calloused fingers have already curled around one of his many blades slipped from a holster on his lower back at the thought, his glazed eyes fixed on a random spot in the hall as he let his abilities take aim. In one swift motion, the blade was sent flying through the crack in the door, curving through the air on one impossible, continuous path meant to draw Luther's eye.

It did just that.

The man's gaze was torn from the leather-bound book in his hands and towards the glimmering flash of silver that flew through his field of vision. It was gone the moment he caught a glimpse and a sudden metallic thwang! reverberated near his stinging ear. Wait, why was it stinging?

"Ow! What the--?" His fingers flew to the shell of his ear, blood meeting his fingertips and Luther did a double-take at the knife sticking into the drawer inches from his face. He found himself gawking at the opening door where Diego came striding in, jaw set and shoulders squared.

"I could smell it was you," Diego drawls, waltzing in and swinging a lazy arm behind him to shut the door. It closed ajar, but something told him not to fix it.

"What the hell?" He cries in hushed tones, prying the knife free from the wood. "You could have killed me!" Luther's eyes dart over his own broadened shoulder and Diego gets his first glimpse of you fast asleep atop his sheets. "You could have killed her!"

A snort comes tumbling out of Diego before he can be bothered to stop it. As if he wanted to. "Since when do you care about her? Thought she killed dad?"

Luther catches himself in the middle of a sigh, his eyes already half-lidded as he starts to shake his head and get into the fight he knows is already begun when he realizes Diego isn't finished.

"No don't tell me," says Diego, plastering on a painfully sarcastic smirk. "Now it's Five?"

Luther opens his mouth again to get a word in but again, he's beaten to the punch.

"But no, that wouldn't make sense. He had an alibi, you know, being marooned in the future? No, no, you need something even more rooted in nonsense ... Murder from beyond the grave, perhaps?" Diego finally laughs, his tongue darting into his cheek in annoyance as he comes to face Luther. "Huh? Maybe little Ben did it! He's dead, why not throw him under the bus too? That is your logic, right? The most plausible explanation-ie heart failure-is right out the window with your morals but sure, the woman you broke out from his secret bunker killed him."

"I was being stupid alright?!" Luther snapped, surprising them both. Fleetingly, his eyes darted over his bulking shoulder and he was relieved to see his outburst hadn't woken you. The two of them watched as you turned in your sleep, flipping over to lay on your side, now facing them. Luther turned back in his seat and looked up at his brother and released a guilty breath. "I know she didn't kill dad. And... I'm sorry."

Diego's eyebrows were released from a frown, his face flashed in dull surprise. While it was true he hadn't been expecting the admission of guilt, he didn't let it sway his feelings towards his brother or how uneasy he felt finding him here with you. And yet, to Diego's complete disdain, a small part of him deep down was relieved to know you hadn't been alone all this time. And yet...

"I'm not the only one you have to say sorry to,"

"Well, that's the thing," Luther said, giving a bit of an awkward shrug. Not that he knew any other kind. "We sort of... talked, and--"

"--Poor Y/n,"

Luther's face flattened in a silent scoff. Proud of himself, Diego sauntered over to the two of you, arms crossed and tried to make himself bigger around Luther.

"You know, you can make jokes all you want but that doesn't change the fact that you weren't here."

That got to Diego. Luther could see it in his body language, the way his brother's whole body stuttered. But he was trying to brush it off, power through, and not meet Luther's eye. Instead, his eyes lingered over your sleeping face. Diego would have chuckled warmly at the sight had he not been so livid with himself; your lips were beginning to part as you fell deeper into your subconscious.

"She needed someone last night, Diego. And I think it really freaked her out; being alone."

"You think I don't know that?"

"I think," Luther continued carefully, the both of them maintaining hushed voices. "we've both made some pretty big mistakes. But we can both still fix this if we figure out how to help her. And that means getting her-getting the both of you-back to the academy where the others are waiting. We can fill the others in and figure out a game plan from there. Like we agreed,"

The tip of Diego's tongue returned to dart across the inside of his cheek in irritation; not an uncommon tic of his. "Fine," he huffed, and Luther nodded in thanks, leaning back in his chair. "but don't think I haven't forgotten what you really think of--"

The words were stolen right out of Diego's mouth at the sudden movement in his bed; at first, they had thought they had woken you. But no, far from it; you had turned over in your sleep and once again found yourself rolling over against the wall. Like a weak magnet, the blanket went first, reaching for the brick that was brushing against your back as you effortlessly shifted back up onto the wall that was brushing against your shoulders.

The two men said nothing; they simply seemed to process the sight before them. Luther was the first to snap out of this mini trance, blinking rapidly and shaking away the thought as he looked back up at his brother. "Yeah, she did that earlier. I think it's normal."

Diego didn't respond. As he looked at you now, bundled in his clothes and tucked under his blankets fast asleep on his wall, he wondered. He wondered what his father saw in you that made him fear you much. What about you-or this unassuming, albeit slightly amusing sight before them-so threatening?

He was still trying to wrap his head around everything; losing his father, reuniting with Five, finding you. So much of his life had changed drastically in a matter of hours and he couldn't shake the feeling deep in his core that it was just the beginning.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

I REMIND YOU TO BE CAUTIOUS OF ALL RESOURCES YOU FIND REGARDING AIDING THE UKRAINE--IF YOU SUSPECT ME OR ANYONE YOU KNOW HAS OVERLOOKED SOMETHING THEY ARE SPREADING, MAKE IT KNOWN!

'Netwar' Could Be Even Worse Than 'Cyberwar' article on misinformation by Ian Bogost

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'How To Help Trans Kids In Texas' article by Sophie Hirsh

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The Safe Place

'The Safe Place is a free app for the Black community created by Jasmin Pierre-a peer support specialist and advocate for mental health. The comprehensive app features a number of tools, from breathing techniques and meditations to Black mental health statistics.'