Diego's place wasn't what I expected. A small, cramped room tucked behind a gym. Despite its unassuming appearance, he had tried to make it his own. A framed embroidery piece, unmistakably one of Mum's creations, hung proudly on the stone wall. It was an odd, sentimental touch amidst the chaos of scattered tools and gleaming knives.

His knives caught my attention, a vast collection laid out meticulously on his desk. Each blade had a story, a purpose.

Luther grunted as he unceremoniously dropped a passed-out Five onto the creaky bed, his limp body landing in a heap. Diego moved across the room, carelessly setting Dolores in a chair. I took a seat in silence, watching them exchange a few hushed words before they left the room, leaving me alone with Five.

"Watch him," Diego said. As if Five needed a babysitter.

I let my gaze drift around the room, taking in every detail. The steady rise and fall of Five's chest drew my eyes to him. Suddenly, he stirred, his face scrunching up before a lopsided smile spread across it. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused but still managing to find me.

"You know," he slurred, his voice thick with drink, "there's something... different about you."

I furrowed my brows at him. Of course, he'd notice. Five didn't miss a thing, drunk or not. The only difference was that when sober, he could keep these thoughts to himself. I forced a casual smirk, masking my unease.

"Well, wouldn't being in a coma change anyone?" I responded, hoping he would drop whatever he was getting at.

Five chuckled softly.

"No... this change... it's not a coma thing. It's deeper. Like... you're an entirely different person." His voice trailed off as his eyes drifted closed again.

I stared at him, his drunken words echoing in my head. Different. Entirely different. Was he onto me? Did he know? My pulse quickened, my fingers twitching to do something, anything, but I forced myself to stay still.

I needed to leave. Now.

The door creaked open, jolting me from my thoughts. Diego and Luther returned, both of them immediately zeroing in on Five.

"Funny," Diego remarked, his voice carrying a faint smirk. "If I didn't know he was such a prick, I'd say he looks almost adorable in his sleep."

Luther and I glanced at each other but didn't say anything.

"Well, don't worry," Luther said, crossing his arms. "He'll sober up eventually. Be back to his normal, unpleasant self."

"He drank 2 bottles of vodka," I added dryly, leaning back in my chair. "Good luck with that."

Diego shrugged, already rummaging through his desk.

"Yeah," Diego said, "I can't wait that long. I need to find out what his connection is with these lunatics before someone else dies." Diego turned back to look at me, but only for a brief second.

Of course Diego would be the one to look into Hazel and Cha-Cha. His relentless need to chase answers was both admirable and infuriating. I doubted they would say anything about me, Hazel and Cha-Cha seemed more focused on Five than me. Still, if Diego started following their trail, I couldn't be sure my name would stay buried. Maybe I needed to stick with him to ensure I had control over that situation.

But Five...

I glanced at his slumped figure on the bed. Staying near him meant staying in the game. More answers about the apocalypse, and maybe he would talk about The Commission; this information was equally important.

Shit. Why do I feel so torn? I never feel torn.

"All that stuff he was saying before," Luther started, breaking through my thoughts. His voice was cautious, like he didn't want to spook either me or Diego. "What do you think he meant by that?"

Before Diego could answer, a dull thud sounded from outside the door. We all stilled, exchanging wary glances. The faint echo of footsteps followed, growing louder with each step.

I straightened in my seat. Diego was already moving, his hand darting to the desk to grab one of his knives. His movements were fluid and precise, but there was tension in his shoulders, a readiness for a fight.

Diego glanced back at us, his eyes sharp, before cracking the door open just enough to peek out. The knife in his hand gleamed, ready to fly.

The voice that came through the door was gravelly and exasperated.

"You throw another one of those goddam knives at me. I'm pressin' charges."

Diego sighed, his posture relaxing. He swung the door open, revealing an older man in a red tracksuit.

"What do you want, Al?" Diego asked, irritation thick in his tone.

The man shuffled inside, waving a hand as if dismissing Diego's attitude.

"I ain't your secretary," he snapped back.

"Yeah, yeah." Diego rolled his eyes but stepped aside to let him in.

I leaned back in my chair, trying to relax, but my mind was still buzzing. Five was drunk, dead to the world, but I wasn't naïve enough to think the Commission wouldn't show up eventually. If this Al guy wasn't a threat, the next knock on the door might be.

"Some lady called for you," Al said, crossing his arms. "Said she needs your help."

A sharp pang of curiosity flickered through me, and I arched a brow. A woman? Needing Diego's help?

"What lady?" Diego's voice lost some of its edge, replaced by something softer, curiosity, maybe even concern.

Al shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. Some... uh... detective. I think she said her name was, uh, Blotch or somethin'."

His gaze landed on me, and his face twisted in vague recognition. "Ah, is that her?"

I gave him a pointed look.

Well, he certainly isn't a detective.

"You really think my name is Blotch?" I asked.

"It's not her," Diego snapped, his eyes darting between me and then back to Al. "You mean Patch?"

Al shrugged, not caring. Diego's face dropped slightly as if something had clicked for him.

"She needs my help," he said in a whispered voice before moving closer to the door.

"She needs you to meet her at that motel, a dump on Calhoun," Al added, giving Diego a piece of paper.

I watched Diego carefully as he took the piece of paper Al handed him. His expression shifted just for a second. The tough, detached mask he always wore faltered. Whoever this Patch was, she mattered to him.

"When?" He asked, his voice quieter now.

"About half an hour ago," Al said, oblivious to the urgency now radiating off Diego. He turned to leave, muttering something under his breath, then paused in the doorway. "Oh, and said she found your brother."

Found your brother?

The air in the room seemed to freeze. I watched as Diego and Luther exchanged a glance, their confusion quickly morphing into realization. Their gazes darted to Five, still sprawled out and oblivious.

"Well, that didn't make sense," Diego muttered, his brow furrowed.

I felt like I was missing something here. It wasn't until they both turned to each other again.

"Klaus," they both said in unison.

"Go. I'll wait here with..." Luther started before Diego ran out, slamming the door shut.

Luther sighed before looking between Five and me. We shared an awkward smile before both of us sat down. This would be the first time Luther and I had been alone since my return. I didn't hate Luther or anything; we just had different opinions about things, and I just didn't like his attitude at times.

The one thing about Luther was he hated awkward silence, which meant he would talk to fill the silence. Luckily for me, he gave me a rundown of what had been going on over the past few days, which filled in some blanks for me, which was helpful.

The worst of it was hearing that Mum had died. I wasn't expecting that. That one stung. Not because I was grieving but because it didn't add up. Hazel and Cha-Cha didn't operate without orders, and they didn't kill without purpose. Whatever happened to Mum, it wasn't their doing, not entirely. But now wasn't the time for that.

"You holding up okay?" Luther asked, watching as I got comfier in my seat.

I faked a yawn, brushing him off. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Yeah, I bet. It's been a lot, huh? Coming back to all this."

Luther finally fell quiet, and I could feel his gaze on me. "I'm just glad you're back," he said softly. "We've missed you."

I forced a small smile.

"Yeah. It's... good to be back."

"You should probably get some rest, too. I have a feeling it's going to be a busy few days for us." Luther added before getting comfy himself.

I closed my eyes, feigning sleep, though my mind was racing. The longer I stayed, the more risks I took. I was walking a knife's edge, and sooner or later, someone, Diego, Five, or even Luther, would discover the truth.

And when they did? Everything would change, and I can't let that happen.

Oh Luther, you have no idea.

~

Five's POV:

It was another sunny day, and Delores and I had found a semblance of peace in the ruins of the abandoned library.

I chuckled, sitting down on my slab of stone and facing her.

"Do you remember that, uh, little mansion just outside the city limits? Where we," my words came out light, almost cheerful, a rare sound in this desolate world.

Delores stared back at me, silent as always.

"Yeah, well," I continued, "it turns out the wine cellar was untouched." I raised my glass to her, savouring the bitter tang of Bordeaux on my tongue.

"I picked up a few cases of your favourite Bordeaux," I said, gulping down the remaining liquid in my glass, happy that at least some good things survived the apocalypse. Her expression didn't change, but I felt her disapproval like a slap across my face.

"Ah, that's an exaggeration. I don't drink too much." I muttered defensively, setting the glass down.

"You know, I work hard all day." I started before I heard Delores snap back at me.

"I - Why would you even say that?" Just before she could answer, the sound of falling rubble caught my attention. I froze, my body tensing. My hand crept toward the gun at my back, ready to deal with whoever, or whatever, had found us. Slowly, I snapped into action, my weapon drawn.

And that's when I saw her.

The Handler.

My eyes snapped open, and for a moment, I couldn't place where I was. The room was dim, the air stale. The sight of Diego's knives scattered across the table told me enough: this was his place.

My heart was still racing as I forced myself to sit up. Across the room, Delores sat silently in the corner, her form the same as always. I exhaled through my nose, a wry smile tugging at my lips. I could practically hear her chastising me for getting drunk.

As the fog of sleep cleared, the events of last night came flooding back. The Meritech break-in. The confrontation. The bottle. Charlotte finding me in my drunken state, dragging the truth out of me. I had told her about the apocalypse and seeing her in that future wasteland. A mistake. She did have a good point though, that maybe she survived because of the coma, it wasn't like she was a typical coma patient. I still didn't trust her, and I doubted I ever would.

Then came the part when Luther was carrying me, Diego told me about the attack on the Academy, and I stupidly spoke about Hazel and Cha-Cha. No doubt they will all want to know what I was talking about.

Did my drunken behaviour annoy me? Yes. Am I glad I don't have a hangover? Absolutely. I cannot stop the end of the world with a hangover.

A small movement caught my attention. I turned my head, finding Charlotte slouched in a chair nearby. She was asleep, her face contorted with some unspoken fear. Her body twitched intermittently as though she were battling demons, even in her dreams.

Nightmares. She used to have them when we were younger, though she never talked about them. And now, seeing her like this, brought back hidden memories.

Hmm, I guess she still has them.

I reached out, intending to wake her, but froze when she muttered something in her sleep. Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it sent a chill down my spine.

"The end has to happen," she said, her tone trembling.

I pulled my hand back, my gaze narrowing. What the hell was that supposed to mean? I studied her closely, searching her face for answers, but she remained locked in whatever nightmare she was having.

She knows more than she lets on.

Deciding to bide my time, I leaned back and feigned sleep. Maybe she'd say more. Instead, I heard a sharp gasp, followed by movement. She was awake now.

I continued to fake being asleep, knowing it was best to keep this moment to myself until the right time.

I kept my eyes shut, my breathing steady, waiting to hear if Charlotte would say anything else. Heavy footsteps approached from outside the room, and I heard the door open and close; it was Luther.

When I finally stirred and opened my eyes, Luther was already seated, watching me expectantly.

"Finally," he said, his tone clipped. "We need to talk."

Of course, he'd want to get straight to business. My gaze flickered to Charlotte. She sat stiffly, her face calm and neutral, too calm. I'd spent enough time with her to recognize the cracks in her facade, the subtle tells that she was hiding something. If I hadn't heard her earlier, I might have missed it altogether. But now, I couldn't stop noticing the small details: the way her hands gripped the armrests, the faint tension in her jaw.

She's putting on a show, just like always.

"We don't have time for this," my attention turns towards Luther, who seems to be getting angrier by the minute. My eyes flicker between him and Charlotte. I didn't want to discuss any of this in front of her, but how do I explain that to him?

"Five," Luther pressed, his voice hardening. "I know you and Charlotte don't get along, but she's part of the family; whatever you're hiding, she will find out eventually; we all will. You can't keep shutting us out."

I scoffed internally at the word family. The Academy was barely functional at this point and Charlotte? Luther knew my feelings towards her; I've never seen her as an actual part of the family. Right now, she was up to something, orbiting just close enough to stay relevant but distant enough to avoid suspicion. Still, Luther wasn't wrong. They'd all find out eventually.

With a deep sigh, I nodded. "Fine."

The words came out clipped, reluctant. I told Luther what he wanted to know, what they all needed to know. About the future. The apocalypse.

As I spoke, I kept one eye on Charlotte. She sat perfectly still, her expression unreadable, but her silence spoke volumes. She was piecing things together, weighing the implications of everything I said. I could almost see the gears turning in her head.

"When's it supposed to happen?" Luther asked, his voice tight.

"Well, I can't give you the exact hour, but..." I looked between him and Charlotte. "From what I could gather, we have 4 days left."

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Charlotte's reaction was subtle, a slight widening of her eyes, a barely perceptible shift in her posture, but I caught it.

Luther, on the other hand, was visibly shaken.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" He demanded.

"It wouldn't have mattered," I mumbled, my voice still recovering from sleep.

"Of course it would," he snapped back. "We could've banded together and helped you try to stop this thing. Instead of you and coma woman over here trying to stop it."

"Hey!" Charlotte snapped, shooting daggers at Luther. "First of all, don't call me coma woman; second, I only found out about the apocalypse last night."

Luther's glare shifted to her, his voice sharp.

"Why didn't you say anything last night!"

Her jaw tightened, but her response came measured and deliberate. I was a little surprised that she mentioned that; she would have only said something if it benefited her.

"I was coming to terms with it. Wouldn't you? You wake up from a coma and then have to help your least favourite person figure out something that you later find out has to do with the end of the world. Besides," she added with a dismissive wave of her hand, "he was bound to tell you when he woke up anyway."

Luther raised an eyebrow, visibly considering her words.

Oh, she's good. Too good

"Okay, fair point," he said begrudgingly, turning his attention back to me.

"For the record," I began, levelling my voice, "you already tried."

Luther frowned, leaning forward in his seat.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

My eyes dropped to the floor as the memory surged to the surface, the haunting image of their lifeless bodies strewn across the rubble. Even after all this time, it gnawed at the edges of my mind, refusing to let go.

"I found all of you," I said, my voice low. "Your bodies."

Luther froze.

"We die?" He asked.

As I looked up at him, I was back at that moment, rubble around me and the bodies of my family in front of me.

"Horribly," I replied, being pulled back into the room. The room felt heavier, the weight of my words pressing down on all of us. Luther stared at me, lost in the shock of what I'd just revealed. Meanwhile, Charlotte had gone eerily quiet, her expression carefully blank. Her silence only drew my attention further. She wasn't reacting like most people would to news like this; no questions or visible disbelief. Just a guarded stillness. Even though the subject was upsetting, I was numb to this stuff now.

I pressed on, trying to ignore the tightening in my chest.

"You were together," I said, lowering my gaze again. "Trying to stop whoever it was that ends the world."

"Wait, how do you know that?" Luther asked, his voice cutting through the thick air.

With a sigh, I reached into my blazer pocket and pulled out the prosthetic eyeball. The sight of it sent another pang of unease through me, but I held it out, letting the truth speak for itself.

"This was clutched in your dead hand when I found you," with one last look at it, I threw it to Luther so he could examine it. I mean there's no use for it now.

"Must've ripped it out of their head right before you went down," I added, my tone deliberately detached.

Luther turned the eye over in his hands, examining it closely. To my left, Charlotte sat perfectly still, her silence now deafening. I could practically see the wheels turning in her mind, piecing together details I hadn't shared.

"Whose head?" Luther asked, his voice breaking through my thoughts.

"Like I said, I don't know," I replied flatly.

Luther kept turning the prosthetic in his fingers, his focus unwavering.

"Well, there's a serial number on the back," he pointed out. "Think maybe you could try-"

I cut him off before he could finish. I didn't need his theories or his hope.

"No, that's a dead end." I let out a dry chuckle, shaking my head. "It's just another hunk of glass."

Luther sighed, his disappointment noticeable, and passed the eye back to me.

Charlotte, meanwhile, hadn't moved. Her silence stretched on, unnerving in its consistency. She wasn't offering solutions or asking questions, and that was precisely the problem.

But I'd seen her slip up already. That one slip was enough to make me certain; Charlotte knew far more than she let on.

~

Charlotte's POV:

He was watching me. Five's suspicion was evident, coiling around me like a snake waiting to strike. But I was watching him too, piecing together what he wasn't saying. Why hadn't he mentioned finding me in the apocalypse? It wasn't like him to overlook something so damning, especially about me. Had he forgotten he told me when he was drunk? No. Five never forgot anything, least of all something like that.

The tension snapped with the sound of the door crashing open. Diego stormed in, a force of barely contained fury. He wasn't just angry, he was pissed off.

"Piece of shit," he muttered, ripping off his gloves as his boots slammed against the floor. His rage filled the room like a storm cloud, sharp and suffocating.

Luther and I instinctively stood, the air around us electrified. Five, still seated, only tilted his head slightly, a silent acknowledgement of Diego's entrance.

"Do you have any idea what you just did?" Diego barked, his voice cutting through the tension as he closed the distance to Five. Luther stepped in front of him, acting like Five's bodyguard.

As Diego lunged towards Five, Luther held him back.

"Nope, let me- get your ape hands off of me!" Diego snarled, his voice raw with anger as he struggled against Luther's grip.

Luther sighed, hoisting Diego off the ground as effortlessly as someone moving a chair.

"I can do this as long as it takes you to calm down," Luther said, unflinching.

Diego's breathing grew ragged, his fury simmering just beneath the surface. Whatever had happened, it wasn't just anger; it was grief, too.

"Fine," he whispered.

Luther set him down, stepping back but keeping an eye on him.

"Now, wanna tell us what you're talking about?" Luther asked.

Diego didn't answer right away. His eyes locked on Five like he was aiming a weapon.

"Our brother's been pretty busy since he got back," Diego spat. "He was in the middle of that shoot-out at Griddy's and then at Gimble Brothers after the guys in masks attacked the Academy, looking for him," Diego's hand shot out, pointing accusingly at Five.

As Diego mentioned the Griddy's incident I knew that no one had expected me to be a part of it. Only Five knew I was there but he didn't know if I had heard the fight, which once again left me in the clear.

"None of which is any of concern," Five said, his voice calm, calculated. Which only seemed to piss off Diego further.

Wrong move.

"It is now!" Diego snapped, his voice cracking under the weight of his grief. "They just killed my friend!"

Diego's words hung in the air, thick and suffocating. I wanted to say something, anything, but the words died in my throat. What could I say? Diego wouldn't want sympathy from me, and I wasn't sure I could offer it even if he did.

Instead, I watched. Five's gaze dropped for a moment, something heavy weighing him down and an apologetic look on his face.

"Who are they, Five?" Luther's voice broke the silence, steady but firm.

Five hesitated, and I saw a crack in his armour for the first time. He wasn't just choosing his words; he was wrestling with them.

No, he wasn't going to tell them about The Commission, was he?

"They work for my former employer," Five said at last, his voice low but clear. His eyes flicked to me, and I knew I had to react. I furrowed my brows, playing into the confusion.

"A woman called The Handler," he continued.

Her name sent an icy shiver down my spine, but I kept my expression neutral.

"She sent them," Five said, his tone matter-of-fact. "To stop me. Then, soon as Diego's friend got in their way... well, fair game."

Fair game. The phrase hung in the air, sinister and unfeeling. It sounded like something The Handler would say, her detached, ruthless pragmatism. But then again he wasn't wrong.

Diego stepped forward, rage rekindling in his eyes.

"And now, they're my fair game. And I'm gonna see to it that they pay," Diego threatened before moving towards the door.

A small part of me wanted to stop him, but I knew there was no stopping him now. He had lost someone he cared about and was clearly after blood. He needed to be careful, though; Hazel and Cha-Cha would have no problem in killing him. In fact, Diego being Five's brother would mean they would show him no mercy.

"That would be a mistake, Diego," Five said, his voice calm but cutting. "They've killed people far more dangerous than you."

Diego ignored Five's warning and continued to walk out.

"Yeah, we'll see about that," he called out as he left the room, slamming the door behind him once again.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint hum of tension still lingering in the air. Luther and I exchanged glances, his filled with concern, mine calculated. I turned back to Five, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Former employer?" I asked, my tone sharp. "What is going on, Five?"

He looked at me, and I saw a flicker of something in his eyes for the first time. Trapped, maybe, mixed with exhaustion. He couldn't run from this, not any more. And from how Luther's jaw tightened, Five wouldn't be talking his way out of it either.

This was all too good to be true.

Five Fact: Five would often get nightmares as a child too. Which is why he would feel a little sympathitc towards Charlotte when she had hers.

A/N: Hello! I'm sorry this chapter is coming out later than expected. I wanted to do something nice for you all last weekend, but something came up that I couldn't avoid :( I am so glad that this is the last week before winter break!

I'll be honest: For the past few weeks, I've not been feeling myself, and I may have relapsed into some old habits of which I am not proud. But, I have reached out for help and hope this will have a positive effect. With that being said, if any of you are going through a hard time, please reach out for help. I know it can be scary sometimes, but one step forward is still a step forward. Even though I feel ashamed for relapsing, a part of me knows I shouldn't because there is nothing wrong with that happening. I won't go into huge details, but I hope my being honest helps some of you out there also struggling with your mental health. Also, check on your friends; with the weather getting colder and darker, many people's moods can change, and sometimes it is hard to reach out or admit needing help.

With that being said, I will still upload when I can, but it may take a while to respond to comments. So, please don't think I am ignoring you; I just need a bit of time :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and sending you all lots of love 💙

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