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༻ FIVE'S POV ༺

Diego sat across from me, arms crossed, eyes sharp, his white asylum uniform doing little to dim the fight in him. Even in this sterile, miserable excuse for a room, he looked like he was one wrong word away from throwing a punch.

"You look good in white," I muttered, my tone dry.

"About time you showed up," Diego spoke, tilting his head slightly, studying me.

I shrugged, leaning back against the chair. "How'd you know I'd be back?"

Diego scoffed, shaking his head like it was the dumbest question I could've asked.

"Because that's the kind of shit you pull."

He wasn't wrong.

"Where are the others?" I asked, cutting to the point.

Diego's expression barely changed. "They're not with you?"

I clenched my jaw, shaking my head. "Well, find them."

"How long have you been here?" I added.

"Seventy-five days," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Landed in a back alley.

Then Diego's posture shifted. His fingers stilled.

"Y/N's not with you?"

I looked up at him. Something in my chest tightened.

"No," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Got here this morning. She can't be that far. I know her."

Diego exhaled sharply. "Wrong about that."

A slow, creeping dread settled in my gut.

"What are you saying?" My voice was calm, even, but I was already bracing myself.

Diego leaned forward slightly, watching me, waiting for the reaction he knew was coming.

"I saw her."

Everything in me went still.

"You what?"

"I saw her," Diego repeated, slower this time, like he knew he was dropping a grenade between us. "As I was getting arrested outside some store."

I sat up straighter. "Where?"

"The hell would I know? Some grocery store. Doesn't matter." He exhaled sharply. "I called out to her—yelled for her."

I was already gripping the table harder than necessary.

"And?"

Diego's expression darkened. His jaw tightened like saying it pissed him off more than the memory itself.

"And she looked at me like I was a stranger." His voice was flat, but I caught the frustration underneath. "Like I was just some random guy getting hauled off in cuffs."

I blinked. No. No, that doesn't make sense.

"She didn't say anything?"

"Not a damn word."

I inhaled slowly through my nose, pushing down the sharp, immediate panic. Think. There's a reason for this.

"Who was she with?"

Diego shrugged. "Some guy. Taller than her. Walked out of the store with her, had bags in his hands."

Some guy.

Something cold and ugly curled inside me.

"Where did they drive off to?"

Diego huffed. "You think I got an address?"

"You didn't catch the license plate?" I asked, my voice tight with irritation.

Diego gave me an incredulous look. "Let me just pause getting my ass arrested to take notes for you."

I barely heard him.

She was here. She was close.

And she didn't remember Diego.

Which meant she didn't remember me.

The realization hit me like a knife between the ribs.

Y/N—who always knew me, who could pick my voice out of a crowd, who was built with my name embedded into her system—looked Diego in the face and felt nothing.

No. No, no, no.

I refused to believe she was gone.

The time travel must have wiped her memory. Reset her.

But she was still her. She had to be.

I could fix this.

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༻ Y/N'S POV ༺

The truck rumbled beneath me, the road stretching endlessly ahead as the sun sank low in the sky, casting everything in deep shades of amber. The world outside blurred past, but I remained still. Silent. My system was still processing—overloaded, running through an infinite loop of data that I had thought was lost forever.

The memories... They weren't just fragments anymore. They were whole. Rebuilt.

I could see their faces.

Luther. Allison. Diego. Vanya. Klaus.

And him.

Five.

The name echoed in my core, a frequency that vibrated deep within my system. It was as if something long dormant had suddenly come alive, overriding the reality I had been forced into.

Johnny's house came into view, its familiar outline against the dying light of day. A place that had once felt like home. The thought twisted in my system now, rejecting the notion entirely.

This was never home.

He was.

Johnny parked the truck, stepping out without a word. His boots crunched against the gravel as he came around to my side and opened the door.

"Easy now, okay?" he said, reaching out to help me down. His touch was gentle, but I didn't take his hand.

I stepped out on my own.

I heard the slide of the screen door as Abigail came rushing out, her apron still on from dinner. Her face twisted with worry the moment she saw me.

"Oh, dear," she gasped, her hands pressing against her chest. "What happened?"

"Darn Billy let her ride Dolly. Horse got spooked, threw her off hard," Johnny explained, shaking his head.

Abigail hurried to me, her hands warm and soft as they cupped my face, tilting it up so she could see my eyes.

"Oh, poor thing," she cooed, brushing my hair back. "You must be shaken up somethin' fierce. Let's get you inside."

She led me toward the porch, her grip firm but careful, like I might shatter at any moment. The familiarity of it all should've comforted me. Instead, it felt suffocating.

Inside, everything was as it had been—the warm glow of the lamps, the smell of Abigail's cooking still lingering in the air. But it all felt different now.

Johnny guided me to the couch, settling me down as Abigail draped a thick blanket over my shoulders.

"Y/N, sweetheart, you alright? Talk to us," she urged, her voice soft.

I lifted my head slowly, my gaze shifting between her and Johnny. My system was still calibrating, still racing to process everything at once.

"Can you see me clear, Y/N?" Johnny asked, crouching in front of me.

I blinked. The world around me was sharp—too sharp. I could see every detail in the room, every line on their faces. I could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator, the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall.

"I..." My voice wavered, like it wasn't fully mine.

"You what, sweetheart?" Abigail pressed, her brows knitting together in worry.

"I remember."

"You remember the accident at Billy's barn?" she asked, nodding as if to reassure herself. "Yes, I know, it must hurt, but you're home now. You're safe."

"The alley," I murmured.

Johnny frowned. "What alley?"

I looked up at him, my system pulling up everything, every missing file, every corrupted piece of data now restored.

"His family."

Abigail sucked in a breath. She turned to Johnny, her hands clasping tightly together.

"Oh, Johnny, she remembers her family!" she whispered, almost relieved.

Johnny, however, didn't move. He studied me, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"You remember their names?" he asked slowly.

"My users."

Abigail hesitated, confusion flickering across her face. "Users?"

I stood abruptly. My body moved before I had even fully registered it, my eyes locking onto the door.

"Y/N?" Abigail said, standing with me. "What's wrong?"

"I need to find them."

She reached out, her hands warm against my arm. "No, no, dear, you can't go anywhere right now. You hit your head hard—you're not thinkin' straight. Maybe I oughta put you to bed."

"I think that's a good idea," Johnny muttered.

Abigail tried to gently turn me away from the door, but I didn't move. My feet felt locked in place. My entire system was screaming at me—run, find them, go now.

"Five," I whispered.

Johnny and Abigail exchanged a look.

"Five?" Johnny repeated, frowning. "Who the hell is Five?"

I blinked rapidly, my system pulling up names faster than I could control.

"Luther. Allison. Klaus. Diego. Vanya," I listed off, my voice gaining urgency. "I need to get to them."

"Johnny, what is she talkin' about?" Abigail murmured, glancing at her husband in concern.

Johnny sighed. "Look, Y/N, there ain't nobody out there lookin' for you. You hit your head, that's all. You're confused, sugar."

I turned to him slowly, my hands clenching at my sides. Confused. The word rattled through my system, but it didn't compute.

"You got thrown off Dolly, remember?" he continued, his voice calm. "You hit your head. That's what's got you all mixed up."

I didn't respond.

"Alright," Johnny sighed again, turning to Abigail. "Let's get her some rest. She needs sleep."

Abigail nodded, wrapping her arm around mine and guiding me toward the stairs. My feet moved, but my mind stayed behind, locked on that door.

Every step away from it felt like a step further from them.

She led me into my room—the one I had accepted as mine when my system had been broken. But it wasn't. It never was.

"Here, honey," Abigail said gently. "You need some rest, alright? Lay down."

I sat on the edge of the bed, unmoving.

"I need to go to them," I murmured.

Abigail sighed, brushing a hand over my hair. "Y/N, you can't leave. It's late, and you need to rest. You'll feel better in the morning."

She gave me one last worried glance before stepping out, shutting the door softly behind her.

The moment she was gone, I looked down at my arm. The arm Pogo had once repaired after I tried to stop it from hurting Allison. I flexed my fingers, watching the synthetic skin stretch over reinforced metal.

I glanced around the room.

This wasn't my home.

This was never my home.

I had spent so much time building a new system, believing I was meant to be here. But my code had never belonged in this place.

I couldn't stay.

Five was out there.

Diego. Luther. Allison. Vanya.

They were waiting for me.

The house was silent for a moment, but the faint voices of Johnny and Abigail drifted up from downstairs, cutting through the stillness of the room. I stood motionless in the darkness, listening intently, my enhanced hearing picking up every word, every shift in their tones.

"I'm worried about her, Johnny," Abigail's voice was soft, heavy with concern. The sadness beneath her words was palpable, like a thread woven too tightly in her chest.

"I'm sure she's just lost in her head, darling," Johnny replied, his voice steady, but it carried a hint of something unreadable.

"No," Abigail said, a quiet resolve in her tone. "Something's wrong with her. She's acting different. Like those names—those people were important. They're her family."

I felt a twist inside my core. Family. A word that meant something to them, but felt distant to me. How could it not? I had my memories back, and yet, I still didn't fully understand what family was.

"Abigail, honey, you're talking about the girl who was left by her family, the girl we found in our yard at eight at night," Johnny replied, a tone of finality in his voice.

"Yes, I know," Abigail murmured, the words laced with a quiet sadness. "But... something's off. I'm worried for her, Johnny."

"We have nothing to worry about," Johnny said firmly, his words meant to reassure both her and himself. There was the soft sound of a kiss, probably on Abigail's forehead, before he added, "As long as we keep her safe here, she'll be okay. They won't take her away."

I heard the finality in his words, but I could not let that stop me. I could feel my system running full force again, processing what I had gained. The knowledge of Five, of Diego, of Luther, Allison, Vanya—they were out there, somewhere. And I had to find them.

I couldn't stay here anymore. As much as Johnny and Abigail had given me safety, warmth, a place to belong, it wasn't home. Not anymore.

I had been lost, yes. But now I had myself back. I had my memories, my purpose, my family. And I could no longer deny it.

I heard the faint creak of the door downstairs—the sound of Abigail and Johnny retreating to their bedroom, perhaps to find some peace for the night. But I had none to be found here. I had made my decision. The time had come.

My legs moved of their own accord, standing up from the bed as I made my way toward the door. I reached for the handle, feeling it cool beneath my fingers as I turned it slowly. It creaked—just barely—but enough to make my heart race. My eyes darted over my shoulder, checking one last time. The house was still, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway. The sound of my footsteps on the wooden floor felt like a beacon in the quiet house. There was no going back.

I moved slowly, making my way down the stairs. Each step felt heavier, but I couldn't stop now. The door to the outside world was within reach. My hand brushed the doorknob, and I paused for a moment, glancing back toward Abigail and Johnny's closed bedroom door. They had given me everything—comfort, stability, a family, even—but they didn't understand the pull of the memories, the need to find them.

I stepped outside, the cool air greeting me like an old friend. The darkness had fallen completely now, wrapping everything in shadows. But I was not afraid.

I looked back at the house once more. This had been the place I had healed, the place where I had learned what it meant to feel. But now, there was only a nagging emptiness within me. It was time to move forward.

I walked away from the porch, my feet crunching against the dry grass. The sounds of crickets, the faint buzz of the evening, all of it filled the air. But my mind was elsewhere—focused solely on the path ahead. The place I had come from. The alley. The one I had wandered into that day when I lost who I was before. The alley where I had been rebuilt.

I heard a faint noise. The soft nicker of a horse—Lady, the mare that had been here for as long as I could remember. She was grazing near the fence, her eyes catching mine in the dim light.

We locked eyes for a long moment. The horse and I.

For a split second, I considered stopping. I considered going back inside, letting Abigail and Johnny take care of me. But the pull of them—Five, Diego, Luther, Allison, Klaus, and Vanya—was stronger than anything in that moment.

I took one last look at Lady, her presence a brief moment of comfort in a world that was slipping through my fingers. Then, without another word, I turned and walked away, leaving the place that had made me feel safe.

The night was quiet, but the sound of my footsteps rang clear in my mind. I was going back to the beginning. Back to the alley. Back to Five.

To my family.

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WORDS WRITTEN:
2550
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