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𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗝𝗘𝗡𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗦

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ꕺ THE DAY THAT WASN'T / THE DAY THAT WAS ꕺ

"I'm gonna have the coolest scars from this."
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LANDING BACK AT THE ACADEMY, I noticed I was about to fall onto Five. He had previously landed on the bar in the living room. I jumped away, landing on a couch. I groaned in pain as Allison let out a shocked, "Je-Jesus!"

"You guys, am I still high, or do you see him, too?" Klaus stuttered out, making me roll my eyes. Thank god I didn't land on the fucker. I'm sure he's got some sort of injury from all the debris that shot at us seconds ago. "Five, where have you been?" Luther asked, a bang being heard shortly after. Did Five just fall off the counter? The thought of it made me stifle a laugh. But, I couldn't exactly laugh, since I had a nasty cut going through my eye. I could feel it.

"Are you alright?" Allison asked the boy, I'm assuming her and Luther helped him up. "Who did this?" Luther questioned him. "Irrelevant." Five sneered. I stood up to save Five the explanation, making my way over as Five chugged someone's coffee. "We found out who causes the apocalypse. I'm sure you all know about it now, don't wet your pants just yet." I huffed. "The apocalypse is in three days." Five informed his family, almost wincing as he moved. I was very concerned now. He has an injury, doesn't he?

"The only chance we have to save our world is, well, us." The boy's movements were almost frantic, he seemed so out of it. "The Umbrella Academy." Luther followed. "Yeah, but with me, obviously." They all look expectantly to me, hoping I'd help as well. "Don't give me those faces, I'm literally bleeding from mine and you don't think I'm gonna help?" I rolled my eyes as they all didn't catch on. "And with me. I'm obviously gonna help, I literally saved your asses back at the break in." My head started pounding. "And now for my next trick, I am going to faint, apparently."

And with that, I fell to the floor.

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Waking up, I looked around at the room I was in.

"Hello, dear." I turned my head to the right and spotted a woman with golden hair and a 60s-style housewife dress. "Hello?" I questioned, not knowing who this woman was.

Sitting up harshly, I wanted to run. Was I back... there again?

"Where am I?" I asked the beautiful woman. "The Umbrella Academy of course! In Grace, the children like to call me 'mom' though." She smiled down at me.

I instantly calmed down, knowing I was in a familiar place. Then, one question came to mind. "Where's Five?" I asked, swinging my legs off of the side of the bed I was on. "He's in the next room... he sustained an injury on your excursion to wherever you two went. A shrapnel wound." I stood quickly when she told me this, making my way towards the door but nearly falling over. "Here, take this." Grace handed me a crutch, me putting it in my left hand.

Looking down, I noticed my pant leg rolled up and a bandage around my calf and thigh. "I'm assuming I sustained the same injury?" I asked, turning to her, the crutch tapping on the floor as I moved.

"Yes, dear. You had a large piece of shrapnel in your upper thigh, and one in the very front of your shin, the shrapnel was deep into the bone of your leg. Another piece of shrapnel cut your eye, too." I lifted up my hand and felt my eyes, the left one having a large band-aid over it.

"I'm gonna have the coolest scars from this." I muttered, turning back around. "I-I think I'm gonna see Five... is that okay?" She nodded at my question.

Making my way through the door, I jumped to Five's room, landing on the hardwood floor. Seeing the boy laying there, motionless... he seemed almost adorable like this. Less of a little shit anyway.

I just grabbed the chair from the corner of his room and sat next to his bed, grabbing his hand tightly in mine. I don't know what came over me but... I was starting to really care about Five.

It was scaring me, because every time I've ever cared about someone I get left. My parents, for example. They may have never cared about me but I cared about them. I was naive, sure, but I didn't know how to not love someone. I was a dumb fragile girl who wanted to have her parents to lean on when things got too tough, or a friend to talk to when life was just too hard to handle. My parents weren't there to lean on, and Five, my only friend, had left when I turned 17, so I had nothing. Only Agnes, my runs and my phone. That's all. Me. Myself. And Agnes, but she only checked on me because she thought I was young. A teenage girl going in to drink coffee every morning for 3 years straight might raise some questions and she did raise some.

I felt my hand being squeezed, and when I looked up Five's eyes were squinted and his eyebrows were furrowed together. I took my finger and massaged the space between his eyebrows. "Those types of wrinkles don't look good on 17 year olds. Smile lines, sure, but frown lines, no." I looked down at him, the boy's eyes softening at the tension released between his eyebrows.

Slowly moving my hands, I thread my fingers through his hair and massaged his temples with my thumbs. The boy seemed to become less tense overall from this manoeuvre, as he let his body sink into the mattress.

"Thanks." He croaked out, leaning more into my touch. "No problem. You looked like you needed it." A beat of silence, "Tell me when to stop, kay?" He nodded.

After a a minute or two of silence, he suddenly sat up, startling me. I removed my hands from his hair, "What's wrong?" I asked, true concern dripping off of my tone.

"What happened?" He looked at me, eyes frantic, breath quickening. "Remember the commission? You got stabbed with some shrapnel, im assuming it's after we blew up the briefcase room. It happened to me too. As you can clearly seen from my eye." I chuckled, touching the large band-aid on my left eye.

"I... okay. I shouldn't have brought you with me to the commission. You got hurt. It was irresponsible of me." Five grunted, laying back down again. "It's not your fault, I chose to go with you. I chose to be your friend, which means I'm willing to put myself in danger." The boy looked up at me with stony eyes.

"You don't get it." He huffed, "I don't want you getting hurt because of mistakes that could've been avoided. It's my fault you got hurt." I placed my hand on his, giving him the first smile I've given him in a while. "It's not your fault, I can promise you that. All of this is the result of my decisions. Not yours, therefore it's my fault and my fault only."

The pyjama-clad boy nodded, eyes seemingly growing heavier with each passing second. "I think I'm gonna get some rest. Bleeding out really drains you." I let out a small laugh and stood up, squeezing Five's hand one more time before letting go.

"Yeah, I'm quite tired myself." I walked towards the door to his bedroom. "Goodnight, Five." He looked to me from his bed.

"Goodnight, Estelle."