Luther left the room quietly, stepping into the living room where Diego was standing by the staircase railing, his posture tense. "Well?" Diego asked, glancing at Luther as he approached.

"She hasn't moved from that chair," Luther replied, shaking his head slightly, the worry evident in his voice.

Diego nodded, his expression hardening. "He's a good guy," he said, more to himself than to Luther.

"Yeah," Luther agreed. There was a heaviness between them, a shared understanding of the gravity of what had happened.

"Y/n deserves better than this," Diego muttered, his gaze distant as he looked nodown the stairs, lost in thought. "Elliot must've been getting too close to the truth. It smells like the feds."

Luther looked at Diego with a mixture of disbelief and frustration. "What? Are you out of your mind?" he asked, shaking his head. "Diego, if this was the federal government, they'd take him somewhere and question him, not beat him to death and leave him for his daughter to find. No, this is the work of someone with a twisted mind."

Diego's eyes narrowed as he looked down at the bloody words scrawled on the floor: "Öga For Öga." It was written in Elliot's blood, a chilling message that sent a shiver down Luther's spine.

"Is that a name?" Diego asked, his voice low and dangerous as he stared at the words.

Luther muttered the phrase to himself, trying to make sense of it. "Öga For Öga," he repeated, the words rolling off his tongue with a sense of foreboding. "I'll look her up," he said, making his way to the kitchen where Y/n's photo book was kept, the closest thing they had to a directory of names and faces.

Diego followed him, sitting on the table as Luther flipped through the pages. The tension in the room was palpable, both of them on edge, waiting for any clue that could lead them to the person responsible.

"Holy shit, I found her," Luther said, pointing at a name in the book. "That must be her."

Diego leaned in, his expression darkening as he read the name. "Call the bitch," he said, his tone sharp and filled with anger.

"On it," Luther replied, dialing the number quickly. The phone rang, and when someone on the other end finally picked up, Luther hesitated. "Uh... hello? Oga?" he said, turning to Diego with uncertainty. "She sounds odd. What should I say?"

Diego rolled his eyes, spinning his finger in the air, signaling Luther to get on with it. Luther cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Excuse me, umm, I was just wondering—what? My name?" Luther's voice faltered slightly. "My name is Luther Hargreeves."

Without warning, Diego snatched the phone from Luther's hand, his patience worn thin. "You hurt our sister, Oga. Now we're coming after you," he said, his voice cold and threatening. "You'll be dead by nightfall," he added, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Five was unfazed as he took off his bloodstained vest, tossing it aside with a sigh. "Hey. It's Öga För Öga, idiots. Swedish for 'an eye for an eye.' It means the Swedes hurt Elliot," he explained calmly, his tone more annoyed than anything.

Diego, suddenly realizing the gravity of their mistake, quickly brought the phone back to his ear. "Wrong number. Have a lovely day," he stammered, then hung up as fast as he could. He turned to Luther with a sheepish look. "We would've gotten there," he insisted.

"Eventually," Luther nodded in agreement, though there was a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Yeah," Diego agreed, though he was clearly still unsettled. They watched as Five started peeling off his coat.

"Uh, you have some blood on you," Luther pointed out, noticing the dark stains that seemed to cover most of Five's clothing.

"A lot of blood, actually," Diego added, concern lacing his tone. "Five, what did you do?"

Five brushed past them, heading toward the bathroom. "I made a deal to get back to our timeline," he said flatly, as if it were just another day's work.

"What about doomsday?" Diego pressed, his brows furrowed with worry.

"It won't happen," Five responded confidently, though his focus was already shifting away from the conversation.

"And the 2019 apocalypse?" Diego wasn't about to let it go without full answers.

"Everything will be back to normal, sort of." Five's voice trailed off at the end, the last part spoken almost under his breath.

Luther and Diego exchanged uneasy glances. "Sort of?" Diego echoed, his tone filled with suspicion.

"I made some changes..." Five admitted as he adjusted his tie in the bathroom mirror, not meeting their eyes.

"Like what, Five?" Luther's voice carried both curiosity and a growing concern.

"I made sure Y/n can come back with us," Five said, his tone decisive.

"Does Y/n know about this?" Luther asked, his concern now fully evident.

"Not yet. I'll tell her later," Five replied dismissively, already moving on to the next task in his mind.

"Five, there's no way she'll agree to that last minute. I mean, she just found her dad beaten nearly to death last night," Diego said, his voice rising slightly as he pointed toward the room where Y/n sat vigil by her father's side.

"I know what she's wants. Trust me," Five said firmly, his gaze hardening. "We have to go. We need to find the others, right?" His tone was commanding, as if to end the discussion.

Luther sighed, resigned. "Yeah."

"Luther, you get Allison," Five instructed, a faint smile playing on his lips as he grabbed a pen and paper. He quickly scribbled something down.

"What are you doing?" Diego asked, adjusting his shirt, his frustration barely contained.

"Leaving a note for Y/n. Once she wakes up, she'll see it and know to get her things and meet us in the alley in one hour," Five explained, placing the note carefully on the table.

As Five made to leave, he turned back to the others. "Now we meet back in the alley in 77 minutes," he instructed.

But Diego wasn't ready to let it go. He stepped in front of Five, blocking his path. "Elliot almost just got killed, Y/n is heartbroken, and now you're just going to make her leave with us to a different timeline?" Diego's voice was sharp, almost desperate.

Five's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and determination. "Diego, we have a chance to go home. I finally did it, and I'm taking her with me. I'm making things right for us. Elliot would want this for her. For me to keep her safe," he shot back, his voice steely.

Diego shook his head, conflicted. "I have to say goodbye to Lila first."

Five's patience snapped. "Lila doesn't give a shit about you, Diego!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the apartment. The tension hung thick in the air, the weight of their decisions pressing down on all.

"She never did. She's one of them. She's a member of the Commission," Five declared with cold certainty.

Diego shook his head, a mix of denial and confusion in his eyes. "No way. That's not possible."

"She's just using you, like she used Y/n," Five insisted, his voice growing sharper. "You're the Oswald of this story, my friend. The goddamned patsy."

Diego's mouth opened to retort, but Five's impatience cut him off. In a blink, Five was right in front of Diego, their faces inches apart. "If you don't do this, I'll kill you myself. Got it?" Five's voice was a low growl, his gaze fierce.

Before Diego could respond, Five vanished, blinking away in a blur of motion. He reappeared in the car, a swift and purposeful maneuver to get to Vanya.

  _______________________________

                             Y/N'S POV

The weight of Five's words, "I know what Y/n would want," echoed relentlessly in my mind. I stood outside her father's door, my heart heavy with conflicting emotions. My father was still asleep, his face pale and battered. Was this really what I wanted? The thought of leaving Dallas, my home, my life, my friends, felt unbearable. Five had made a decision for me, a decision I hadn't even been consulted on. It was my life he was dictating, my future being altered without her consent.

I paced in the room, anger and frustration swirling inside me. Moving to a different timeline was a monumental choice, one that came with consequences I wasn't ready to face. It wasn't just Five's timeline; it was his reality, not mine. Mines was here, in 1963, surrounded by familiar faces and the life I had built. I felt a fierce sense of betrayal that Five had made such a critical decision without discussing it with me first.

My eyes were blurred with tears, but I wiped them away with determined swipes. There was no time for despair or indecision. My father needed immediate medical attention, and if I didn't take action, who would? I was his only family, his sole caretaker. I pulled on my shoes, my clothes from yesterday feeling like a small price to pay for the urgency of the situation.

I waited outside my father's room, my heart racing as I listened for any sign that Five, Diego, and Luther had left. When I was sure they were gone, I took a deep breath and headed back to my dad. He was still on the bed, barely conscious, and I felt a surge of determination.

"Dad, come on. I need you to try to get up," I said gently. I helped him sit up, draping his arm around my neck for support. "That's it, baby steps. I've got you."

I guided him slowly to the living room, helping him inch his way forward. Once we were there, I helped him sit on the couch and quickly went to the kitchen to grab his coat from the door. As I walked, my eyes fell on the note Five had left on the table. My heart sank as I read his message. It was clear that Five had made decisions for me without even talking to me first. It wasn't fair—this was my life, my home, and now they were trying to make me leave it all behind.

I shoved the note aside and went back to my dad. I helped him put on his coat and gently guided him back to his feet. "Let's go, Dad," I said with determination.

We carefully made our way down the stairs, each step a challenge. I could see how much pain he was in, and it only fueled my resolve to get him to the hospital. Once we reached the front door, I helped him into the back seat of our car and made sure he was buckled in.

Climbing into the driver's seat, I took a deep breath, my hands trembling slightly as I started the car. I forced myself to focus on the road ahead. Right now, all that mattered was getting my dad the help he needed. The decisions made by Five and the uncertainty of what was to come could wait. For now, my priority was clear: get my father to safety and make sure he received the care he deserved.

———

Once we arrived at the hospital, they quickly got my dad settled into a bed. The doctors assured me that he would be okay, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. My dad meant everything to me—he was my rock, my superhero. He taught me so much: how to read, write, tie my shoes. He celebrated every birthday with me, even if it meant staying up until midnight to mark the occasion. I could still picture him dancing to Elvis until we both collapsed from exhaustion.

As I held his hand while he slept, I couldn't help but smile at those precious memories. The doctor, Dr. James, entered the room with a clipboard in hand.

"Good news, Ms. Gussman. He's going to be fine," Dr. James said, his tone reassuring.

I couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Dr. James," I replied, glancing back at my dad.

"But," Dr. James continued, "we will need to X-ray him tomorrow, so he'll have to stay overnight."

"Oh..." My initial happiness was tempered by a knot of worry. The thought of him being vulnerable here brought back the chilling memory of that night. What if those men came back and finished what they started?

"Doctor James, I can't let that happen," I said, my voice trembling.

"Y/n, I understand your concerns. But you and I both know that your father is safe here. The hospital has 24-hour security and staff monitoring all night. He's in good hands," Dr. James assured me.

I sighed, glancing back at my dad who lay peacefully, still asleep. "I want someone at his door at all times," I insisted.

"Of course. I'll make sure he's monitored around the clock," Dr. James promised. "Your father is an important person to us, too."

"Thank you," I said softly, feeling a bit of the weight lift from my shoulders. "He's all I have."

Dr. James smiled warmly. "I know. Your dad and I go way back. We were quite the readers in high school," he said with a chuckle.

We shared a laugh, and then he added, "Really, Y/n, I won't let anyone harm him. I promise."

I hugged Dr. James, and he returned the gesture. "Thank you, Doctor James."

"Anytime, kiddo. Why don't you go home and get some rest? It's been a long night for you," he suggested gently.

I nodded, wiping away the last of my tears. "Yeah, it has..." I said, feeling the exhaustion settle in. "I'll be back later.

I walked over to my dad's bedside, gently pushing his hair from his forehead and planting a soft kiss. "Love you, Dad. I'm going to fix up the place at home. I'll be back later, okay?" I said, though I knew he wouldn't answer.

"Okay... bye, Dad," I said one last time before turning to leave the room. I grabbed my coat and bag, taking one final glance at my father before stepping out of the hospital.

_______________________________

                   THIRD PERSON POV

"We've got a minute left," Luther said, his voice tight with frustration.

Klaus, still recovering from fainting, looked around groggily. "What's going on, guys? Are we going somewhere?"

Five's anger was palpable as he paced back and forth. "It was a simple task. Just be here. We didn't have to fight a giant sea monster or an army of mutants. No, we just needed to be here, and we blew it!"

Luther mumbled, "I can't believe this... Where's Vanya? Where's Y/n?"

"Could you just moan a little softer? My head is killing me," Klaus complained, clutching his temples.

"Listen to me, you useless pile of—" Five's outburst was cut short by a sudden charging noise. "Goddamn it," he muttered, his frustration mounting.

"Shit!" Luther exclaimed as Five quickly grabbed the briefcase, throwing it into the air. The briefcase sparked with blue light and disappeared in a flash.

Everyone sighed, their shoulders slumping in defeat. "We were so close," Five lamented, rubbing his face in frustration. "So close."

Luther groaned in disbelief, his anger and exhaustion evident. Five continued to fidget, kicking trash around the alley. His attention was suddenly drawn to a window across the street. He spotted Y/n in her room, frantically searching for something.

A deep breath escaped Five as he took in the sight. Without a moment's hesitation, he blinked out of the alley, reappearing in front of Y/n's window. His anger flared as he saw her rummaging through her belongings.

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