༻ FIVE'S POV ༺

I landed hard in Vanya's apartment, Y/N still in my arms. Her body was too still—no hum of her systems, no sign she was... functioning. It felt wrong. She was supposed to be indestructible, a force of nature, and yet here she was, limp and lifeless. The thought made something sharp twist in my chest.

I glanced around, taking in the modest space. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. My eyes locked on a chair in the corner, and I moved quickly, my legs burning from the fight, the teleportation, and the damn weight of what just happened. Gently, I set her down in the chair, placing her hands in her lap. She looked wrong like this—still, fragile. It wasn't her.

"Come on, Y/N," I muttered under my breath, brushing her hair away from her neck to find the small panel there. My fingers hovered for just a second before pressing the button. I held it firmly, waiting for something—anything.

Nothing. No sound, no hum of energy, no sign she was rebooting. My throat tightened, but I pressed the button again, harder this time. "Please, Y/N," I said, my voice low, almost pleading. "Come on. Start up."

Still nothing. The silence was deafening. I stepped back, dragging a hand through my hair, trying to steady myself. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be fine. I forced myself to breathe, to think—but then, just as I was about to panic, I heard it: a faint whirring sound deep inside her.

Relief hit me like a freight train, and I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding. The soft hum of her systems restarting was like music to my ears. I leaned back against the wall, sliding a hand over my face, trying to ground myself.

After a moment, I glanced back at her. She sat there, eyes still closed, the faint glow of her charging systems pulsing softly in the dim light. I moved closer, taking her in. Her face was streaked with blood—none of it hers, I realized. It was from the fight, from the men we'd just left behind.

I couldn't leave her like this. I headed to Vanya's small kitchen, rummaging around until I found a clean rag. Running it under cold water, I wrung it out and walked back to her. Kneeling in front of the chair, I started wiping the blood from her face, careful not to press too hard. Her skin—metal? Flesh? Both?—was smooth and cold under my hand.

As I worked, I caught myself staring. She looked... peaceful like this. No sharp retorts, no sarcastic quips, no determined focus locked solely on me. Just stillness. It wasn't her, not really, but it reminded me for a moment of the Y/N I used to know. The one who didn't have to fight or bleed or sacrifice everything just to protect me.

I finished wiping the last streak of blood from her cheek and sat back on my heels, staring at her. How much more could I ask of her? She'd been built—rebuilt—for this, to protect me at all costs. That was the point, wasn't it? But sitting here, looking at her now, I wasn't so sure anymore.

She lost her life once because of me. Her real life. And now, in this form, she was risking it all over again. What the hell kind of person does that make me, letting her do it? Having her back... it didn't feel like a second chance. It felt like a debt I'd never be able to repay. And maybe, just maybe, her protecting me wasn't what I wanted after all.

Maybe I just wanted her to live.

I slumped into a chair across the room, the weight of everything pressing down on me. The only sounds were the occasional hum of Y/N's systems recharging and the muffled noise of cars passing outside. I should've felt exhaustion; my body certainly begged for it. But I couldn't let myself stop—not yet. I came back to stop the apocalypse, to fix everything, and somehow, it still felt like I was falling apart.

The faint jingle of keys at the door pulled me from my thoughts. It was late, well into the evening, and the apartment was already cloaked in darkness. The door creaked open, and Vanya stepped inside. She reached for the light switch, but before she could flick it on, I leaned forward and turned on the lamp beside me instead.

"Jesus!" she yelped, startled.

"You should really put locks on your windows," I said, deadpan.

"I live on the second floor," she replied, her tone exasperated.

"Rapists can climb," I shot back without missing a beat.

Vanya let out a groan, shaking her head. "You are so weird," she mumbled, closing the door behind her and tossing her coat onto a nearby chair. She moved toward the couch across from me, her footsteps heavy with the fatigue of her day. As she sat down, her gaze shifted, landing on Y/N slumped in the corner chair. Her face twisted in confusion.

"What's wrong with her?" she asked, gesturing toward Y/N.

I turned my head, glancing at Y/N for a moment before looking back at Vanya. "Her energy was low. She's recharging," I explained simply.

Vanya tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Does she always need to do that?"

"Only when it's necessary," I said, my tone clipped. "When she pushes herself too hard, it drains her energy reserves."

She studied Y/N for another moment, her face softening in a way only Vanya's could. But then her eyes flicked back to me, narrowing as she noticed my sleeve.

"Is that blood?" she asked sharply, her voice edged with concern.

I followed her gaze, glancing at my arm where the torn fabric revealed the bloody mess from earlier. "It's nothing," I said, brushing it off.

"Why are you here?" she pressed, her brow furrowing.

I let out a long sigh. "Because I've decided you're the only one I can trust," I admitted flatly.

Vanya blinked, surprised. "Why me?"

"Because you're ordinary," I said before I could stop myself. The words came out harsher than I intended, and her face fell instantly. I saw the hurt flicker across her expression and quickly corrected myself. "Because you'll listen."

She studied me for a moment longer before standing abruptly. Without a word, she disappeared into another room, leaving me alone again. I exhaled deeply, running a hand over my face before my gaze shifted back to Y/N. Her face was blank, her features stiff, and yet something about her still drew my attention. The hum of her systems was steady now, a reassuring sound, but it didn't make the knot in my chest go away.

Vanya returned moments later, holding a cloth and a bottle of peroxide. She sat back down across from me and gestured for my arm. Reluctantly, I pushed up my sleeve, revealing the torn skin and dried blood. She didn't say anything as she poured the peroxide onto the cloth and began cleaning the wound.

"When I jumped forward in time and got stuck in the future," I said, my voice dry and measured, "do you know what I found?"

"No," she replied softly, not looking up from my arm.

"Nothing," I said, the word heavy. "Absolutely nothing. As far as I could tell, I was the last person alive."

Her movements faltered for a moment as she glanced up at me, her eyes wide with unease. I let the silence stretch for a beat before I delivered the truth I'd been carrying.

"The world ends in eight days," I said, my voice low but firm. "And I have no idea how to stop it."

Vanya froze, her eyes locked on mine, her expression shifting from confusion to shock. She opened her mouth as if to say something but quickly closed it again, at a loss for words. Finally, she spoke. "I'll put on a pot of coffee," she said softly, disappearing into the kitchen.

I leaned back in the chair, my gaze shifting to Y/N once more. Even with everything I'd just told Vanya, it was Y/N who lingered in my thoughts. Her charging hum felt like a small victory, one I wasn't sure I deserved. But for now, she was safe, and that was enough to keep me going.

༻☂︎︎༺

A moment later, Vanya returned with the coffee. She handed it to me without a word, but her eyes were on me the entire time. I took the mug, my fingers brushing against hers as I did. The warmth was a small comfort in the midst of everything, but it wasn't enough.

I leaned back in the chair, staring at the mug in my hands. "I survived on scraps," I said after a long silence. "Canned food, cockroaches... anything I could find." A bitter chuckle slipped out of me. "You know that rumor about Twinkies having an endless shelf life?"

Vanya nodded, though she wasn't amused.

"Well, it's total bullshit," I said, taking a long drink from the mug.

"I can't even imagine," she said, her voice soft.

"You do whatever it takes to survive, or you die," I muttered, my gaze dropping to the floor.

Vanya glanced over at Y/N. "How was she? Back then?"

I turned my head to look at her, the words hanging in the air. "She wasn't with me," I replied, my voice heavy. "Not back then."

She didn't say anything for a moment, but I saw the questions in her eyes, the unspoken ones. "So... how did you meet her?"

The question hit me harder than I expected. I took another drink, trying to steady my nerves. I needed something stronger.

"You got anything stronger?" I asked, my voice rough.

Without a word, Vanya stood and walked to the kitchen again, returning with something that burned in the right way. She handed it to me, watching me closely as I took a swig. The alcohol stung, but it was the kind of sting I needed. She waited for me to say something.

"You think I'm crazy?" I asked, my eyes meeting hers.

She didn't flinch. "No... it's just... it's a lot to take in."

"Exactly what don't you understand?" I asked, my voice sharp, though I didn't mean to snap at her.

She hesitated. "Why didn't you just travel back? To fix everything?"

I let out a dry laugh. "Gee, wish I'd thought of that," I muttered, the sarcasm slipping out. But underneath it, I felt a wall rise up in me. "Time travel's a crapshoot. I went into the ice and never acorn-ed. You think I didn't try everything to get back to my family?"

She looked away, her brow furrowed. "If you grew old in the apocalypse... how come you and Y/N look like kids?"

I stared at her, feeling a strange mix of frustration and guilt. "I told you already. I must've gotten the equations wrong." I stood up and walked past her to pour another drink. "And Y/N... I brought her with me. And that messed everything up. I screwed it all up."

Vanya was quiet for a long moment, then she spoke, almost like an afterthought. "Dad always said that time travel could mess with your mind. Maybe that's what's happening?"

I shot her a look, feeling something dark stir inside me. "This was a mistake," I said, my voice low, almost ashamed. "You're too young, too naive to understand."

I turned, moving toward the door, but Vanya's voice stopped me.

"No, Five... wait," she said, her tone a little softer now.

I paused, turning to face her. She was standing now, walking toward me. "I haven't seen you in a long time. I don't want to lose you again. That's all," she said, a touch of vulnerability in her voice. "It's late. You need rest, I'm sure. And so do I."

I stood there, listening to her, but I didn't have the words to respond. I felt like everything was slipping through my fingers.

Vanya made up the couch for me, then turned to me, her voice firm. "And I don't think Y/N would want to wake up and find you gone."

I glanced at Y/N, her face still, but charging. The quiet hum filled the room, and I realized she was right.

I let out a long breath. "We'll talk in the morning. I promise."

Vanya nodded, then walked off to her room, calling back, "Night."

"Night," I said softly, watching her disappear down the hall.

I sat on the couch, staring at the closed door. The silence pressed down on me. Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed a towel off the table, unfolding it carefully. Inside, a small glass eye rested. I picked it up, turning it over in my hand. The engraving on the back read "MeriTech," followed by a serial number.

I sighed and looked back at Y/N. I didn't have time for rest. I needed to go, but I couldn't take her with me. She needed to rest. Taking her with me now would be asking her to put her life before mine, and I couldn't do that. Not anymore. Not after everything we'd been through.

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration mounting. I needed to figure this out, and I couldn't do it while worrying about her. She was still charging, still in recovery mode, and I didn't have the luxury of waiting.

My gaze flicked across the room and landed on Vanya's coffee table. A pen and paper sat there, and in a split second, an idea formed. I moved swiftly toward the table, grabbing both the pen and paper without hesitation. I turned to face Y/N again, but this time, I wasn't looking at her as a machine. I was looking at her as something more—something I couldn't leave behind, no matter how much I tried to convince myself it was for the best.

I sat down on the edge of the chair, my eyes still on her. The words I needed to write were already forming in my head.

I grabbed the pen and began writing in careful, precise handwriting, trying to make sure every word was clear. The note felt like a parting letter, even though I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

Once I finished, I took a moment, staring at the paper in my hands. The gravity of the situation was heavier than anything I'd ever felt before. Then, I ripped the note off the paper pad, stood up, and walked over to where Y/N was sitting, still plugged into the charger.

I knelt down in front of her, placing the note gently on her lap. My fingers brushed against her cold skin as I adjusted it, but I couldn't bring myself to look her in the eyes. Not now.

I stood back up, my chest tight with something unnameable, and glanced down at the note one last time.

It read:

"Turn on the small blue button on the back of her neck and hold it for three seconds to turn her back on."

Simple. Clear. But the words felt too final, like a promise I wasn't ready to make.

My eyes lingered on her for a second longer before I turned away.

I was running out of time. The world wasn't going to wait for me, and neither could I.

I moved quietly to the door, my heart heavy, before I turned off the lights and closed the door behind me. The darkness felt suffocating for just a moment, but I had to keep going. I couldn't stop now. Not when the end of the world was so close.

WORDS WRITTEN:
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