𝑃𝑂𝑆𝑇𝐿𝑈𝐷𝐸 | 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒 [DISCONTINUED]

𝐭𝐰𝐨. 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡

Word count: 1416

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐎 practically drag herself as the Umbrella Academy (minus Vanya) trudged towards a couple of picnic benches.

Thankfully, they had all made it out barely alive. Now, they were in a random park near the Academy, struggling to recover from the injuries they had just been given.

Five's hand that was clutched around Valerie's waist didn't make her feel any better. She thought it had been bad enough with her limitations because of hunger, but in no way had she expected to be completely beaten.

She was dead tired. Every movement felt excruciatingly long, and her eyelids were practically droopping. She wasn't sure she would be able to last much longer—even now, she was fighting herself using the very little energy she had left so that she could stay conscious. 

She sat down beside him on the picnic bench, wincing as the cool breeze stung her cuts. Her stomach rumbled, begging, along with the rest of her body, for something to sustain it. Suddenly, she was missing those horrendously disgusting bars. . . .

Klaus laid down on top of the picnic table beside them; Diego stood between both tables, peering at the pond just beyond the railing; Luther sat on one of the benches opposite them; and Allison sat on the arm of the same bench.

"That didn't go well," Diego remarked, looking back at them.

"No," Five humoured, "not our best work."

Klaus tilted his hat so that it blocked his face from the sun, and started stretching. "Oh," he groaned as his joints cracked, "I'm cracking."

Valerie shut her eyes as she pressed her hands against her face. She rested her elbows on her knees, and Five's hand moved from her waist to caress her back.

Allison looked toward Luther, who was staring off in front of him. "You all right?"

His eyebrows scrunched together. "I don't know yet. . . . I've just never had my ass handed to me like that before. It's like . . ." He pretended to hand something to her, his face still in the expression of a lost puppy. "Here you go. It's your ass."

Allison stared at him for a moment. She then turned to them with a humourless smile. "Okay, I think Luther's concussed."

Klaus fixed his hat and sat up on the picnic table's bench. "Luther," he called, waving three fingers, "how many fingers?"

A look of realization dawned upon Luther's face. "Oh my God. Vanya."

As if on cue, Vanya stumbled towards them out of nowhere, much more bloodied than when Valerie had last seen her. 

"Oh," Vanya breathed out as she neared. "Thank God you're alive."

"You okay?" Valerie called out, though she knew the honest answer was 'no.'

"Apparently, so is Ben," Klaus said, latching onto the 'alive' portion of her statement.

"Yeah," Allison said. "And he's a complete dickhead."

"They're all dickheads," Diego scoffed.

"Dickheads who can fight," Luther agreed while Vanya sat on the bench, her face scrunched up in pain.

"Okay, next person to say 'dickhead' is getting a punch to the throat," Five warned.

"Dickhead."

"Dickhead."

"Dickhead."

"Dickhead."

"Dickhead."

"Dickhead."