-The Phantom-

-The Lead-

"Five, where have you been?"

"Are you alright?"

"Who did this to you?"

Splayed out on top of a briefcase, body covered in bleeding wounds and cherry bruising, the young looking boy lets out a low murmur of discomfort in response to the bombardment of questions suddenly invading his already aching head. (y/n), noticing the grimace that overtakes his features when he tries to slide himself off of the bar, rushes over to his side and offers an arm for him to brace himself on. He gladly accepts the help, bloodied knuckles curling themselves around her bicep in an effort to study his swaying body once he's on the ground

"Five, you completely disappeared yesterday" Luther nags, gloved hands resting at his hips as he addresses the exhausted looking boy still using (y/n) as a crutch, "What the hell happened?"

"Doesn't matter" Five insists, letting out a tired sounding sigh when his siblings grow annoyed at his response

"You like you've been through hell, of course it matters, Five" (y/n) takes a moment to examine his injuries, a frown curling the ends of her lips at the sight of a few large blotches of blood near his ribs. Five can't help but feel guilty at the sight. Straightening his posture, trying his best not to wince when he removes most of his weight off of her, the boy offers a small smile

"It doesn't matter because I'm fine" he reassures gently before his face grows serious, "What does matter is that the apocalypse is in three days. The only chance we have to save our world is, well, us."

"The Umbrella Academy" Luther states the line as if he were in a movie, the dramatic expression he has only further frustrating Five. Stealing a cup of half drank coffee, (y/n)'s to be exact, Five angrily chugs down the lukewarm liquid before crushing the paper cup in his hands and throwing it in the general direction of the trash

"Yeah, but with me, obviously" he finally responds, roughly wiping at his mouth before narrowing his gaze, "So, if y'all don't get your sideshow acts together and get over yourselves, then we're screwed."

(y/n) watches as her other siblings mumbles their protests and suspicions behind their own beverages, gazes avoiding Fives as he grits his teeth together in annoyance. They were still unsure, still afraid of what was to come. Five limps into the middle of the group with (y/n) by his side to continue providing a stable surface for him to lean on

"Dad messed us up pretty good" The boy begins slowly, the frustration he felt before slowly transforming into determination as he continues, "But, who cares? Are we going to just give up? Let that define us? No. We're going to stop the apocalypse, messed up or not, because it's the right thing to do"

Diego, strangely silent throughout the conversation, flips a gold switchblade between his gloved fingers. The noise catches the group's attention, all turning to watch as his dark eyes focus on the boy beside (y/n).

"Nice pep-talk, pipsqueak" he's sarcastic as he speaks, as if he's already given up any and all hope on saving a world that seemed to give up on him, "But how are we going to do that if we failed the first time? What gives us a success?"

"A lead"

"A lead?" Allison echoes, the rest of the group all leaning in to watch as Five rips a tattered piece of paper out from his soot covered pocket.

"You wanted to know where I went?" He questions Luther cockily, calloused fingers messing with the burnt edges of the folded paper as he continues through a dark chuckle, "I guaranteed a fighting chance to see next week. I know who's responsible for the apocalypse."

Five then hands the key to their success over to his sister (y/n), silently urging her to take a look through a simple nod of his head. She complies. Slowly, fingers feather light as they peel the two halves apart, the girl unfurls the answer to the question she had been asking herself for a while now. It opens with a crackle, dried ink greeting her eager eyes as they scan the handful of text covering the first fourth of the paper. The group looks at her expectantly.