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❛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘ. ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇʀ ᴇғғᴇᴄᴛ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚  ▎❛ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ ʜᴀs
ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ꒱


❝ DEAR DIARY, WHY DO I
ALWAYS WEAR SUITS? ❞

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[ VOICEOVER ]

"It's happening again, isn't it?"

"No! I refuse to let us meet the same fate in this world as we did in the previous one." There was a loud smack— the sound of a hand hitting a desk out of frustration.

"It will be alright, my love. If this is what destiny has in store for us, then so be it. What right do we have to fight it?"

"We are GODS Abigail! We can create matter from nothing! Why should we bend to the whims of time like mere mortals?"

"Perhaps a we need a lesson in humility," the woman— Abigail— commented, her voice tinged with amusement. It sobered, becoming serious once more. "There are some forces stronger than us, Reggie. You know that. We can only have so many foolproof plans before one becomes flawed. You have done your best to monitor the group you call the Umbrella Academy but even with all of your painstaking circumvention, the Durango has managed to follow us here. It can never be far from its creator."

[ PICTURE ]

The blackness fades slowly into image, the focus on a large, mahogany desk, so cluttered that one could not see the wood underneath. Some of the papers' words were clearly legible while others were obscured by yet more documents. The reports that could be read included:

- A bar license with the letters V-I-K visible.

- A rent bill for an apartment in the poorer part of town that had overdue stamped in big, red letters, only for a black marker to have crossed it out with the word paid written beside it.

- A housing deed under the name [...]-PITTS for a modest three-bedroom house in the suburbs with the hefty down payment already made.

- A jar of bright, golden particles that acted as a paperweight to the aforementioned papers.

- A teaching contract for one year of preschool education with the name 'Luther Hargreeves' signed in large, loose script.

- A book decorated with a honeycomb cover that had the title 'The Book of Satoshi' with a train ticket for Seoul, South Korea sticking out between the pages like a bookmark.

Reginald Hargreeves straightened from his desk and glared angrily into the middle distance, a scowl drawing deep lines on his face. "We have already tried bringing the Marigold fragments together— it's one of the reasons why I created the Academy in the first place— to fight against the reign of evil that the Durango represents, to nearly disastrous results. I'd hoped that by dispersing them, it would prevent the Durango from forming altogether."

Abigail remained even-tempered in the face of her husband's frustration. She reached out a hand to place it comfortingly on his arm. "Dispersing them was never the answer," she countered, her voice soft but unyielding. "You should know by now that destiny isn't something you can run from. The Durango has found us, despite your best efforts. It always does."

Reginald shook his head, his scowl deepening as he turned to face her. "Then we will make it forget. If it has attached itself to this girl, we will sever the connection by any means necessary. The mind can be wiped, reprogrammed. It doesn't have to end like this."

"And what of the girl?" Abigail asked, her eyes narrowing. "She's an innocent in this. You'd condemn her to a life in hiding, stripped of everything she knows, simply to escape this monster?"

"If it means saving us— yes," Reginald replied sharply. "What is one life in the face of universal destruction?"

Abigail's hand slipped from his arm, her expression hardening. "It's not just the Durango you're running from. It's your failures. Every time you try to control things, they spiral further out of your grasp. You lost control of the Umbrella Academy. You lost control of this. . . world."

His scowl deepened. "The others failed. The Sparrows failed. But this? No, Abigail. I will not lose. I refuse to let this universe meet the same fate as the last one."

Abigail shook her head. "If you push too hard, Reggie, you may just bring about the very destruction you seek to prevent. We cannot fight fate."

Reginald's eyes flashed with defiance. "I will rewrite fate itself if I must."

The gray-haired woman let out a defeated sigh. "You always did think you could. But fate has a funny way of humbling even the most powerful of us."

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

"Woah!" Alexa exclaimed as she and Five reappeared in the white-tiled subway. She looked around in awe, taking in her new surroundings. Her gaze caught on the strange symbols that decorated the walls and she wandered over to them. "Do you know what this says?"

"No," the brunet replied, sounding irritated by his own lack of knowledge. She studied them, tilting her head as she chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. Surprised by how much time she was spending in this particular spot, he moved to her side and wondered, "why did you ask? Can you read it?"

It was unlikely, but at this point he was willing to entertain any hypothesis that would help him make sense of the subway. Although he expected it, he was still a bit disappointed when she shook her head. "No, but they look familiar, don't they?"

"That's what I thought!" he agreed, relieved that he wasn't the only one who thought so. "I just can't figure out where I've seen them before."

They fell silent as they considered the symbols, then Alexa snapped her fingers. "The hotel!"

"What?"

"Hotel Oblivion," she elaborated, her eyes bright with triumph as she figured it out. "You know that sign? The one Diego insisted said do not ring the bell? It's the same letters!"

"You're right," Five breathed out as the realization hit him. "Lexa, you're a genius. They must be connected somehow. I mean, it makes sense— they're both places unaffected by time."

"And they have the same creepy feeling," she added cheerfully. "I wonder who built them."

He rolled his eyes at her remark. "Yes, well, something having a 'creepy feeling' isn't exactly the scientific evidence you need to prove a theory. But remember what dad said? 'Whoever created the universe built this place.'"

"I thought you were an Atheist," the blonde countered with a grin.

"I am. I'm not saying I believe dad's bullshit, but there must be some greater force at work; I don't think the subway spawned into life the second I got these powers," he mused.

She glanced towards the stairs that led down to the tracks. "Have you gone to the platform? Is there anything that gives more explanation?"

He shook his head. "Nothing more straightforward than squaring the circle. Get this— I took a westbound train. I went one station over. When I came up, it was the exact same day, exact same time, but a completely different timeline."

"Now that's interesting," Alexa commented. "Let's go take a look. Maybe with me here you'll be able to see things from a different perspective."

When they got into the terminal, her gaze immediately found the brightest object in the space: a map whose rail lines glowed neon orange and blue. She hurried over to it, but she was disappointed to find the same unreadable script explaining the system. She jumped a little when a woman's cool voice sounded over the PA speakers and she guessed that she spoke in the same indecipherable language. Then, a train rolled into the station heading eastbound.

As soon as she turned towards him, Five was ready to shoot down her idea. "No. No, absolutely not. We need to head back to Diego and Lila. I don't wanna be hopping on trains until we understand this."

"But Five," she whined— with any other person it would've been annoying as hell, but she somehow even managed to make wheedling look cute— "you promised we could take one quick look! This is part of 'looking!' How am I supposed to get the full subway experience without riding on a train? Besides, you took one and came back without a problem!"

He grunted in annoyance at her logical reasoning and allowed her to pull him onto the train. It didn't take long for them to arrive at the next station, which had them grimacing as they stepped out onto the platform. It was a more run-down platform than they'd seen before; the lights flickered ominously and grime covered nearly every surface. Alexa wrinkled her nose. "Yucko. Fi, you need to keep better maintenance of your subway. This station gets zero stars."

The brunette didn't reply, instead opting to pull out a notebook he kept in his jacket. Alexa had been exploring the dirty area, but she came back over to him after hearing the click of his pen. She pressed against his back as she peered around his arm to see what he was writing, playfully stating, "dear diary, why I do I always wear suits?" She used their closeness to her advantage and lightly smacked him on the butt before she answered her own question: "because they make me look hot as fuck."

Five felt his ears burn red as he became momentarily distracted from what he was really writing: observations about their surroundings for comparison notes. He gripped his pen tightly as irritation washed over him— a rare feeling where Alexa was concerned, but it did happen occasionally. He hadn't even wanted to take the damn subway, but he'd given in because he knew how affected she'd been by the day's previous events. Now she was treating it all like some big joke, while it was very real possibility they could lose their way.

"Alexa, you have to be serious about this," he scolded her, his gaze hardening. "You don't know what kind of danger we could be walking into and joking around about it is what could get us killed. Time travel isn't something you should mess with— look where it got me the first time. You don't want that to happen now, do you?"

The lighthearted smile that had been playing on Alexa's lips faded as she blinked up at him, her eyes wide and sincere. Five instantly regretted his tone— he actually watched the spark of amusement disappear in her eyes as her shoulders slumped. His words hung heavily in the air between them and he felt his stomach twist with guilt for the second time that day. He should be more patient with her; he'd just seen how broken she'd been by Klaus nearly dying— he should be happy that she was willing to joke around now, even if it was a well-made façade. He'd been way too harsh (and the voice in his head mockingly pointed out that he sounded exactly like their father, which only made him feel worse.)

But then, he noticed the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth. The twinkle in her eyes couldn't be dulled for long and he could see it fighting to come back. He let out a long-suffering sigh and shook his head exasperatedly. "You're not fooling anyone, Lexa."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her tone just a touch too innocent as she crossed her arms. "I'm being serious! This is my serious face! I'll be all 'observant' and everything." She pointed to a stain on the floor. "That looks like Australia. See? I'm making worthwhile contributions."

A part of him wanted to stay mad, to lecture her on the dangers of treating this situation like a joke. But the bigger part— the part of him that loved her, that knew she was only trying to fulfill her perceived role as 'the optimist' that their family had given her— couldn't stay upset.

"Fine, I'll let you off the hook this time," he muttered, the corners of his lips tugging upward despite himself. "But you still need to remember that this isn't a game."

Her seriousness became more sincere as she took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. "I know, but I have just as much 'mission' experience as you do, even if it's not quite the same. I just want to remind you that you need to breathe sometimes. We can be serious without letting it crush us, you know?"

Five felt his tension slowly dissolve, the guilt easing up as he looked at her. "You're impossible, you know that?"

She grinned, her eyes sparkling as she poked him lightly on the chest. "And you love me for it."

He rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. "Yeah, yeah. Let's quickly take a look to see what's above us since I know you're not letting us get out of here without doing that, then we'll head back."

"Okay," she agreed easily, letting him take the lead as they went up the stairs to the surface. "Where do you think we ended up?"

"My guess is back in Gene and Jean's apartment. Same day, same time, different timeline," he answered.

Any positive emotions she'd previously been feeling faded away as she took in the scene before her. Fires burned amongst ruined buildings. Each breath she took scorched her lungs and her nose stung with a rancid scent— the smell of decaying bodies. Her eyes watered, not from sadness but the putrid stench in the air. She was glad that she was wearing long sleeves and pants since her skin surely would've been stinging from the ash that fell from the sky.

With a jolt, she realized that this was what Five's apocalypse must've been like. Her heart ached with the realization of how he'd had to have lived for forty-plus years. Alexa turned to her boyfriend to express something along the lines of sympathy, only to pause at the expression on his face. His eyes were glassy, with the far-away look that only came with his worst flashbacks. Five's face shifted, his sharp features softening into something distant, hollow. The color drained from his skin and his hands, which were always so sure, now trembled ever so slightly. His chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid bursts— a telltale sign that he wasn't fully present.

The blonde reached out and gently touched his arm, careful not to make contact with his skin; that would startle him more harshly. Still, he jerked around, his face contorting into a snarl as his body tensed, his mind shifting into survival mode. She remained calm, knowing that Five would never hurt her. It took him a moment before he blinked, his eyes refocusing on her. Hoping to distract him enough to keep him from returning to the past, she asked in a quiet voice— anything louder seemed almost like a crime in this silent world— "when do you think we are?"

"The. . . the same time," he answered, looking faintly embarrassed at the hoarse, stuttering quality of his voice. He cleared his throat and carried on more strongly: "we're not moving forwards or backwards through time. We're just going to alternate versions of now. This is Gene and Jean's apartment. I've been here before. This is my apocalypse."

Alexa's heart dropped to her stomach at the revelation. This wasn't like his apocalypse; this was his apocalypse. She was experiencing everything he had lived through for four decades. While she'd known it had been harsh, she'd never been fully able to grasp the utter desolation he'd had to exist in. Now, it was laid out before her in this barren wasteland. A part of her felt like she knew him more intimately than she ever had before; he'd always been closed off and cagey when she'd tried to talk to him about his experiences, but she could finally see it all for herself.

Alexa took a steadying breath, her mind racing with what to say or do next. This wasn't something she could fix. She couldn't make it better or take away the pain etched into his memories. But what she could do— what she would do— was be there for him in whatever way he needed.

"Five," she whispered, her voice firm but gentle, "you're not alone this time."

He didn't respond right away. His eyes were still distant, as if they were struggling to reconcile the reality of Alexa standing there with the ruin of the world he once knew. His jaw clenched and unclenched, his breathing ragged but slowing ever so slightly.

The blonde's hand, still resting lightly on his arm, applied the faintest bit of pressure, her touch anchoring him to reality. "You're here now. And I'm here with you. We'll get through this, okay?"

For a moment, it seemed like he hadn't heard her. His eyes remained fixed on something far away, something only he could see. But then, just barely, his gaze began to shift back, his focus returning to her. His brow furrowed, and the tightness in his jaw relaxed, if only a little.

"It's the same," he finally said, his voice low, thick with the weight of old pain. "It's exactly the same." He glanced down at the ash covering the ground. "I can still smell it. I can still feel it. I was. . . alone here for so long. It doesn't go away."

Alexa's heart clenched, and without thinking, she closed the space between them, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. She felt his body stiffen, but she didn't let go. She was glad she had.

In the next heartbeat, bullets pinged off the cement wall that framed the subway entrance. She cursed and held onto Five more tightly, using her body to shield him from the onslaught. "Who the hell is shooting at us?"

He didn't need the binoculars in his pocket to know— the fart he'd just let out told him enough. "I am."

The grip he had on the present was tenuous at best; he could still feel the old memories pressing at his mind, threatening to overtake it. He fought them back as hard as he could, not wanting to leave Alexa vulnerable to whatever his past self would try and do to them (at least this was before he'd been trained up by the Commission; his aim was piss-poor.) But the sight of the younger version of him— however far away he was— was making him tip over the edge. He knew, after this, Alexa would probably say that such a strong reaction was caused by bottling up his feelings and not talking about things (and maybe she was right.)

Alexa finally broke out of her stunned silence. She tugged at Five's arm, trying to pull him back toward cover, but he didn't budge. His eyes were locked on the figure ahead— his past self, living through the apocalypse, still fighting to survive. For a split second, she saw the fear flicker in Five's eyes before he masked it with determination.

"Five," she hissed, "we need to get out of here. We can't stay—"

But he didn't move. His body was frozen, and his hands balled into tight fists, trembling with the weight of memories clawing at the edges of his mind. Alexa felt a wave of panic rising in her chest. She had to get him out of this headspace before it pulled him under completely.

"Five," she repeated, her voice more insistent this time, "look at me."

Nothing.

Her pulse raced but she forced herself to stay calm. "Five," she said, louder now, reaching up to cup his face, turning his head toward her. She knew he was going in and out of present-ness and his eyes were back to their haunted state, lost in the nightmare of his past. But she wasn't giving up. Not on him. Not now.

"You're not alone anymore. This isn't the same as before. He's not you," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. "Not anymore. You survived this. You beat this. But we can't stay here." She looked into his face, hoping to see a flicker of realization. He didn't seem to hear her, so she gave a final push, her voice raw with emotion: "Five, please. We have to go. I'm not losing you. Not here."

Something in her words seemed to break through the fog that had enveloped him. His eyes sharpened and his body jolted as if coming back to life. He blinked, taking in her face, the fear and concern etched into every line. Without warning, he grabbed her hand tightly and pulled her into a sprint back towards the safety of the subway, neither of them stopping until they'd made it onto the train. After they collapsed onto the plastic seats, Five cradled his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees as he regained control of his breathing. "I. . . froze. I can't believe I froze. . . I'm supposed to be better than this. I should be able to handle it."

Alexa's heart twisted at the self-loathing she heard in his voice. She knew he held himself to impossible standards— standards that their father had ingrained in him, in all of them— and he pushed himself to the limit to never fall short of them. She hated how deeply this moment was eating away at him.

"You think I blame you?" she asked softly. "Because I don't. I've never been scared of you, Five. Not then, not now." He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him by cupping her hands around his face, the gesture more romantic than it had been the first time. "You've had to do things to survive that no one else can even imagine. You've killed, you've fought, you've endured— because you didn't have a choice. And you did it so you could come home. So you could get back to me— to us."

Five's eyes searched hers, trying to find any trace of doubt. But there was none. She meant every word.

"I don't care what it took for you to get here," she continued, her voice growing more resolute. "What matters is that you're here now. And I've never been afraid of the means you've had to take. Because I know who you are. I know you. I love you."

Five swallowed hard, the tightness in his chest slowly easing as her words sunk in. He let out a long breath, finally lifting his gaze to meet hers. The shame was still there, but it was no longer all-consuming. Her presence, her unwavering support— it was enough to pull him back from the edge.

"I just. . . I don't want to lose you," he admitted quietly, his voice barely audible.

Alexa's eyes softened, and she leaned in closer, resting her forehead against his. "You won't," she whispered. "You'll never lose me. We're in this together."

She closed the distance between them to give him a soft, sweet kiss in an attempt to convey the feelings even she couldn't fully express. He kissed her back, his eyes closing as he savored the feeling of her touch chasing aways the cobwebs of his nightmares, replacing them with the ever-more-recurring thoughts of the ring that burned with increasing intensity in his pocket.

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

When they returned to the Keepers' headquarters at the right point of now, Diego had found a redacted file from their original timeline that detailed the Jennifer Incident. Luckily, neither he nor Lila had noticed the pair's absence, nor Five's recovering but still-slightly-shaken expression or how Alexa gripped her boyfriend's hand more tightly than usual. Instead, it was decided that it was time to meet up with their other siblings and confront Reginald about what he knew. It was surprisingly easy to get past their father's security— it was almost like the team had been instructed to expect them. Diego didn't wait around for an escort, he merely barged in, flinging the door open with a bang! He stalked towards their already-waiting siblings with the file clutched tightly in his hand. "We need to talk about Ben." 

However, before he could begin to broach the subject, Abigail— who had turned around at the intrusion— stood, a beaming smile spreading across her face. She swept towards them gracefully, causing Diego to falter at the unexpectedness of her approach. She wasn't there for him, though; she went straight for Alexa.

The blonde stayed frozen in place, confused by the woman's almost reverent expression. She only jerked slightly when the older lady gently cupped her hands on her face, tilting her head up to get a better look at her. "Alexandra," she greeted the younger woman warmly, as if they were old friends. "My proudest creation. I have been hoping to meet you."

Alexa could only stare dumbfoundedly at the stranger and ask, "uh, who are you?"

"Abigail. I'm your father's wife," she explained, her expression never changing. "You are exactly as I imagined you would be."

The girl's eyes darted to the side as she tried to catch Five's gaze and silently ask him 'what the fuck?' but the hold the woman— Abigail— had on her prevented her from seeing him. Abigail's smile widened as Alexa's confusion deepened. The Hargreeves siblings, equally baffled, exchanged uneasy glances, but no one moved to intervene. Five, who was standing next to Diego, clenched his jaw. He didn't trust this sudden display of affection from a woman they'd never seen before— Reginald's wife, apparently— but he kept his hands by his sides, even as his fingers itched to react.

"What do you mean, 'your proudest creation?'" she repeated as Abigail's hands remained on her face.

The older woman's eyes sparkled as she looked at Alexa, ignoring her question as if it were unnecessary. "You have no idea, do you? Of your role? Of what you were always meant to do? Your father never was very forthcoming with his knowledge." (Here, Reginald scoffed but rather unexpectedly refrained from arguing.)

"What are you talking about?" Alexa's voice rose in frustration, finally stepping back, forcing Abigail to drop her hands. "What role?"

"You, my dear girl, are my failsafe. If all else goes wrong, you are the one who will lessen the devastation. You are the savior I made to ensure that the rest of the world does not suffer from my mistakes," Abigail explained, her voice filled with pride.

Alexa swallowed harshly, feeling that familiar, bitter taste of failure in her throat. She had no idea what this woman was talking about but, whatever it was, she wouldn't be able to do it. It was Ben, it was Klaus, hell, it was even Five all over again— she would crumble under the pressure of keeping everyone and everything together. "I. . . I don't— no," she said firmly, shaking her head. "You've got the wrong person. I can't. I'm not—"

"I promise I will explain all, in time," she reassured the blonde. "You have only begun to scratch the surface of your true potential. Your powers—your gifts— they were never meant for mere healing or protection. You are the bridge between worlds, the one who can temper the storm when it arrives. And, speaking of storms, I see that you have already taken measures in understanding what's to come." She nodded to the file in Diego's hands. "Tell me, what have you found?"

Alexa wanted to protest that this woman couldn't leave her just hanging like that! How could she just spout off that she was this supposed 'savior' and then move on as if she were talking about the weather? But Alexa also knew what her father was like and, as much as this lady seemed to be a slightly warmer version of him, she knew not to expect much in the way of explanations. Her siblings were equally put off by this news but after a shared glance with Diego, she gave him a small nod to allow him to change the subject. There was no use pressing the matter until Abigail was ready to talk about it again.

So, he handed the file around to the others as he told them what he'd found, wrapping up with: "it's in Moldovan. From Moldova. And it's mostly redacted."

"Great," Allison grunted as she looked over the file, "so we can't read it or see it."

"From what I can tell, this document is from our original timeline," Five said, beginning to pace in front of the fireplace. Alexa admired— and hated in equal parts— how easily he was able to brush off trauma as if it had never happened. Five had always been the best at compartmentalizing out of all of them and he'd only improved as he'd gotten older; he continued on as if it were a completely normal day. "It explains how Ben died. It refers to it as the 'Jennifer Incident.'"

Luther frowned at his brother's summary. "We already know how Ben died."

"Okay, then. Tell us."

He looked uncertainly at the expectant faces who watched him in return. "Well, it was a tragic accident. Ben, our Ben, died because we failed as a team. Nobody was responsible, and. . ."

"And what?" Five prompted him, then he turned to his sister: "Allison, how did Ben die?"

She looked up from the file to meet his gaze. "It was a tragic accident. Ben died because we failed as a team."

"—Failed as a team," Luther joined in, speaking in unison with her. Diego added his own voice, echoing their words: "nobody was responsible, yet we were all responsible. Ben Hargreeves represented the best of us. Ben was the Umbrella Academy."

Lila arched a brow at the older man. "What kind of sick party trick is this?"

Five noticed that his girlfriend— who was the only other one who had been present at the accident— didn't join their siblings in their mantra. She was looking down the ground, studying her feet with an unnecessary amount of concentration. Her hands gripped the fabric of her jeans tightly, her posture more rigid than he'd ever seen it. He'd already known— or at least hypothesized— that something was different about Alexa and her relationship with Ben's death from the way it seemed to haunt her, even when she didn't realize it. Here was further proof that she hadn't gotten the same treatment their siblings had, seeing as how she hadn't been force-fed that statement. He went over to her and lightly touched her arm, the same way she'd had with him upon their entry in the apocalypse.

"Lexa?" he questioned her, surprising some of their siblings by the gentleness in his voice. (For even though the pair's relationship was no secret, they acted for all the world like friends in front of their family, so any gesture of affection was still a sight to behold, especially from their most caustic sibling.) "I know how sensitive this subject is for you. I've tried to respect your feelings about it by never asking you outright what happened, but now we're at a point that we need to know. Do you remember how Ben actually died?"

He heard her take in a shaky breath, her shoulders shuddering as she struggled to remain composed. She refused to look at the rest of their siblings, her eyes resolutely finding his. He saw their brighter-than-natural shine, the gloss of her unshed tears. When she spoke, her voice had an urgent, pleading quality that begged him— them— to understand: "I didn't have a choice. Dad forced me to a-agree. He couldn't erase my mind like the others— his machines couldn't change my memories, just like Allison's Rumors couldn't control me. He said it would be a detriment to-to team morale if they lived with the truth. He needed a scapegoat. He convinced me that the only way to keep everything from falling apart— more than it already had— was to carry the blame myself."

The room fell into a thick silence. Diego's jaw tightened in anger. Viktor's expression softened from confusion to sympathy while Luther sat frozen, unable to process what he was hearing. Lila remained uncharacteristically quiet, feeling the heavy weight of the sibling's lingering grief. Diego was the first to speak, stepping forward to place a hand firmly on her shoulder, his fingers gripping her tightly— almost too tightly. "You didn't have a choice," he affirmed softly. He threw a harsh glare in their father's direction. "Reginald manipulated you, just like he did all of us."

"You've been carrying this alone all this time?" Allison spoke up, causing Alexa to whip around and stare at her in shock. The blonde was so used to her sister talking down to her, treating her with condescension and aloofness that hearing any other emotion in her voice was almost alien. While she wouldn't necessarily call Allison's tone respectful, it was voiced with more civility than her sister had ever addressed her with before.

Alexa nodded again, tears threatening to spill over as she avoided their eyes. "I didn't want you to hate me. I didn't want to fail you. . . or Ben. I didn't want his death to mean nothing."

Five's hand slid into hers and he gave it a firm squeeze. "You didn't fail, Lexa. You survived. You did what you thought was right, and none of this was your fault."

The others seemed to absorb this, each processing the news in their own way. Luther's brow furrowed as he muttered, "I can't believe Dad did this to you. . . to us."

Diego huffed bitterly. "Believe it. That old bastard never gave a damn about any of us."

Upon hearing his sort-of-adopted son curse his name, Reginald finally broke his silence, brushing off their accusations as if they meant nothing to him— which was par for the course, really. "As fascinating as this may be, I assure you I haven't the foggiest notion of what this is about."

The second Hargreeves turned away from his sister and took a few paces towards him in a threatening manner. "You know something, old man. You forced our sister to carry this burden all by herself. There's something big you're hiding— something that would've made us turn on you sooner than we did."

Their father remained unphased and even relaxed in his chair, leaning comfortably against the back of it. "You are speculating about the actions of a completely different version of myself from a completely different timeline. That said, it does sound like something I might do. I have already done it once before in this timeline in the hopes of protecting the world, though I am quickly seeing that it was for naught."

"If you can erase them, you can restore them?" Lila aske as she stood with her arms crossed behind the older man, obviously the least shaken of the group.

"With the proper technology."

"Which you have?"

He waved off her concern. "Naturally. It's in this building on one of the lower floors."'

Five knew how long Alexa had had to live alone with these memories and the trauma that had come with their brother's death. She didn't deserve that kind of pain or the isolation Reginald had forced upon her. If he'd been there, it would've been different, he knew; he'd never been as gullible as the rest of their siblings. But, he was here now, and he was going to do what he should've done, had he never time traveled. "Alright, old man, you're gonna put 'em back, each and every memory to do with Ben's death. Because if you erased the Jennifer incident, that means there was something important enough that you'd take the time to get rid of it."

"What? No!" To their surprise, it was Alexa who protested this, the panic leeching into her tone so intensely that her voice cracked on the first word.

However, Reginald's obstinance was far more expected. "I will do no such thing! We need to track down the girl before it's too late."

The siblings didn't care about his opinion, but they gave their sister a concerned look as Viktor frowned while he asked, "why not?"

"I. . ." she trailed off, unwilling to admit the truth. While they were reacting in a way she'd never thought— actually taking her side and not being mad at her for keeping something from them— if they knew what really happened, all of that would change. Plus, it would mean that she failed once again, this time at keeping the promise she'd made to their father.

Abigail spoke up as Alexa was unable to give them an answer. She put her hand on his arm and implored, "Reggie, please."

Even her soft tone didn't sway him at first and he turned her down, albeit gently: "darling, this is messy work. It could take hours, days."

But she insisted, "whatever chain of events has been set in motion is ultimately your handiwork. Whatever timeline it happened in, help them, please."

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

Blue light tinged their faces an eerie shade, perfectly fitting in with the sci-fi horror theme that the memory wiping machines inspired. Allison, Luther and Diego were the first to be strapped in. After a moment, Viktor stepped forward and offered to join them.

"I wanna be connected too," he insisted.

His siblings gave him 'are you crazy' looks, with Luther pointing out: "but you weren't on the mission."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "I wasn't on the team then, but I am now, and I wanna know the truth as much as you do."

Reginald took this in stride and gestured to an empty machine. "Excellent. Please take a seat." He turned to the remaining three, focusing first on Five. "How about you?"

The brunet glanced at his girlfriend, her apprehension visible even in the dim lighting. While he would normally absolutely refuse to let their father near his mind— his intelligence was something he prided himself on and the threat of losing it was unsettling— this was for Alexa. Earlier that day, she'd seen him at his worst, had seen the horrors he'd had to live through, and she hadn't turned away. She'd reaffirmed how much she'd loved him and refused to leave his side. He wanted to do the same for her and do something he'd never gotten the chance to in their original timeline.

"Count me in," he said firmly.

Both Alexa and Lila turned to look at him in surprise, the blonde's expression becoming fearful— betrayed, even. "Five, no. . ."

Five met her gaze and saw the uncertainty in it, which hurt him more than he expected. Her voice had been a fragile plea, so full of emotion that it tugged at his chest. But he couldn't back down. Not when this was the closest they'd been to finally understanding what happened, not when the truth might be the only thing that could set her free from the guilt she'd been carrying all this time. Five gently squeezed her hand, trying comfort her as best he could. "Lexa, I need to do this," he said softly. "I'm not going to let you do this on your own anymore."

The blonde shook her head, tears spilling over despite her efforts to keep them at bay, already mourning a relationship she was certain she would lose. "You don't understand, Five. If you see everything— if you know everything—" Her voice broke, and she pulled her hand from his, taking a step back. "You'll look at me differently. You'll hate me."

"Lexa," Five's voice softened in a way it rarely did around their family, his heart aching for her. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and reaching for her hand again. She tried to pull away but he held it firmly, refusing to let her retreat into herself. "I could never hate you," he murmured, his gaze locking onto hers, willing her to believe him. "Not for anything you've done, not for anything you think you've done. If you don't hate me for what I've done, then what right do I have to judge your past? Nothing— nothing— would make me love you less."

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, squeezing Five's hand to find strength in their connection. "Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But please. . . don't leave me."

Five shook his head, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised. "We'll face this together."

As if sensing the other man's desire to linger and reassure his girlfriend further, Reginald clapped his hands, drawing their attention back to him with his usual briskness. "Enough sentimentality. We have a timeline to correct." He motioned toward the remaining machine, glancing at Lila and Alexa. "Shall we?"

Together. 

That's what Five had said. As much as she would give anything to not relive that terrible day, she also wanted her siblings to know the full truth. After all, their father had said: fragments of your original memories are still locked away in your minds. They are all integral pieces of a bigger puzzle. Her mind was the only one untouched by the machine, the only one with the raw, true memories of what had happened, especially its aftermath. Maybe, maybe, if her siblings saw what their father had forced her to agree to, they wouldn't turn on her so absolutely. Together.

"I'll do it, too," she declared, much to the other Hargreeves' surprise.

"But Lexi, you already know what happened," Luther said, wanting to spare his sister the pain of re-experiencing it.

She squared her shoulders and met her father's cold, gray eyes. "I know. If you're dead set on remembering, we're going to do this right. You're going to see everything."

A/n: I thought how they did the Jennifer Incident was stupid, so it's going to be mostly different from canon. I'm excited for you guys to see the new and improved version since it has been a big part of Alexa's character from the beginning!