Chapter Text
Six years, five months, and two days.
Six years, five months, and two days sleeping in the dark, endless tunnels of the subway.
Six years, five months, and two days passing time outside of time itself.
“I don’t know if I can eat another subway rat.” Five said, even as his stomach growled at the smell of hot rat on the fire.
“If you add an orange peel to it, it kind of tastes like duck a l’orange,” Lila offered. Five looked down at the dried out citrus in Lila’s hand. He had snatched it off a fruit stand in one of their recent attempts to find a familiar timeline.
The process usually involved arriving at an apocalyptic landscape, blinking back in time, uncovering the twisted version of reality they had actually found, stealing some supplies, and running back to the relative safety of the subway. Sometimes they stayed in the subway for a few days, or a week. But they would need to get more food eventually, or they would get sick of each other’s company and be desperate to see another human being. At this point, Five had run into himself so many times that he was getting sick of seeing himself. Over and over, for almost six and a half years.
“Care to guess how long we’ve been down here?” He flipped to the end of his notebook, now with only a handful of pages remaining. Every other page had been rationed, tiny scribbles covered the paper, edge to edge.
“Long enough I found my first grey hair.” Lila squashed a bit of orange over the sooty meat. “And its not on my head.”
“Six years, five months, two days.” Five stared at the tiny numbers he scratched in at the top of the page when he woke up that morning.
“Yeah, well, we’ll find a way home soon enough, right?” Her optimism rankled him, but he was tired and hungry for something other than rat, and didn’t want to argue.
At least through all those years alone in his first apocalypse, he had the good fortune to lose his mind. Being slightly insane really made the whole process of survival a lot more palatable. Six years in with Lila and her relentless, albeit comforting company, and Five still had his full faculties about him. It was torture.
“If we don’t get stabbed, shot, or blown up the next time we got topside. In some of those timelines we were lucky to get out alive.” In spite of the fatigue, he felt the need to remind her about the dangers they had faced together. The number of times they had stitched each other up.
“Yeah well, we’re still kicking, so we must be doing something right.” She nudged him in the good-natured way she had, and his annoyance surged briefly before subsiding again, surrendering to her high spirits.
“Do you remember that timeline, we found the other day? With the greenhouse?”
“And the strawberries…” Lila looked wistful. They had found handful of timelines where the apocalypse had triggered a natural reset. Some were better than others. That one had been the best. “What about it?”
“Seemed pleasant enough. No feral hogs there. No secret police. I was thinking we could maybe set up there for a stretch.” Five looked sideways at her and then back down to his notebook. The greenhouse had been attached to an old brick house. It was in rough shape, with some busted out windows, but shelter enough for them and with enough resources around to make for a comfortable living while they gathered their strength.
“So you’re giving up?” She asked, wearily.
“No one said give up. But…” He sighed and tipped his head back into the tiled pillar. “It’s been almost seven years Lila. We deserve a break. You know… a bed. A shower.”
“I would strangle a kitten for a hot bath.” She gulped down a bit of rat meat that had suddenly turned to ash in her mouth. “Just a few days, okay? This does not mean that we’re giving up.”
Lila
The little greenhouse was just about everything Five or Lila could have hoped for after their years in the subway. A little glimmer of stability and calm. Somehow they had found the one apocalypse that didn’t spell misery or impending doom for either of them, and it felt increasingly precious the longer they stayed.
“Five! Come here! We’ve got little flowers growing!” Lila shouted from the warmth of the greenhouse. She spent most of her time there when they weren’t traipsing around the underground or some god-forsaken timeline. It was a sanctuary, but it was just as much a trap. Since they had arrived, they had both been too nervous to stray too far on the train lines, afraid that they wouldn’t be able to find their way back. They slept well there… ate well. Five was a decent hand at skinning rabbits and the garden around the house had enough veg to keep them both feeling full at the end of the day. And it was quiet. No stumbling around in the noxious fumes of a dying planet, or being chased off by her husband who didn’t know her in that timeline. It had happened a handful of times in those six years. At first she was excited to see him, hopeful that it was her Diego. But it never was. It was the Phoenix Academy, then it was the Highwinter. Most recently, the Rosewood Academy had reconvened to stop their own apocalypse. Diego had been all leather clad and masked up like some sort of comic book hero, and she had felt a little squeeze in her chest as she dodged his knives.
“It’s spring, Lila,” Five called back from the crooked dining table in the next room. He sat there every day or so and filled out his journal. She hung on the door frame between the two spaces and he looked up at her. His face was softer after a few weeks of decent eating. A little less gaunt. “If I’m not mistaken, flowers bloom in spring.”
“Yes, but if you had a shred of joy in that cold, hard heart of yours, you would come in here and admire it all the same, you twit,” She swung back into the greenhouse when she saw the corner of his mouth turn up. She heard his chair scrape back from the table and his soft steps. “I think it might be another type of strawberry. That book I found in the study says there are wild varieties that bloom and produce berries for longer than the conventional ones.”
Five leaned down to inspect the little white buds. “I wonder how they’ll taste.”
“They’ll be delicious, of course. I’m a shit gardener, but everything around here seems to taste like heaven anyways.” Lila shrugged.
“I don’t think you’re a shit gardener,” He straightened and smiled at the little flowers. “You haven’t killed anything yet.”
“Ah, well, it’s only spring,” She bumped his shoulder. “Give me time and I’m sure I’ll kill every plant here.”
Five turned his smile to Lila. “These plants have survived the end of human civilization, L-Lila.” He faltered and looked back at the garden. “If you manage to kill them after all that, I’ve really underestimated you.”
Lila watched him closely for a moment as he looked out past the window panes. “Are you alright?”
“Huh?” He looked at her and smiled again, wider, with teeth this time. “Yeah, of course. Why?”
“You’ve just been… strange lately.” She pulled his elbow and squared their shoulders. “You’re not giving up, are you?”
He let out a short, sharp laugh. “No, I told you I wouldn’t. And I won’t.”
“Alright then,” She dropped her hand from his arm and tilted her head to peer at him with some suspicion. “Don’t be weird.”
“Was that weird?” He laughed again, a little more gently. She narrowed her eyes at him as he chuckled off in the direction of his notebook again.
Five
Six years, seven months, and eight days. Five scribbled into the shrinking margins of one of his last pages. One attempt yesterday. Skipped the express and took the southbound 3 stops. Timeline 873. Similarities to - He flipped back a few pages - 829, 746, and 418.
Academy: Breakwater.
Station: VOIIX
Line: -
“Can you try to pick up some twine or wire next time you go out?” Lila walked into the dining room from the greenhouse, picking the dirt from her nails. “The courgettes are starting to droop.”
“I thought you might like to come this time,” Five asked, looking up from his notes.
“Do you want me to come?” She sat on the edge of the table next to him, but angled her face away and swung her legs, brushing his knee in several passes.
“You don’t have to…” He put his pen down and looked up at her, even as she avoided his eyes. He sighed and pushed back from the table, walking over to his bag and jacket. “You haven’t been out in a couple of weeks. I thought you might like to… stretch your legs, is all.”
“What, do you think I’m not pulling my weight around here?”
“That’s not what I said,” He shoved the notebook into his bag. “I just noticed that you’ve been avoiding the subway.”
“Oh, piss off, Five,” She jumped down from the table in a huff. “I’m just taking a break.”
“Fine,” he raised his hands in defence. “Fine. I’m going out. I’ll get you some twine.”
“Thank you,” She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. As he was about to leave Lila called out behind him. “Don’t get lost, okay?”
Lila had let Five go on the last three subway trips alone, hanging back to ‘look after the garden’ or ‘get supper ready’ or ‘wash her hair.’ It was fairly transparent to Five that she was avoiding something about the subway. Or maybe about the alternate timelines. He didn’t exactly look forward to it himself, but he had promised not to give up. Over and over in those first weeks after they arrived at the greenhouse, she had reminded him, and over and over, he had agreed. Now, after two months, she had stopped reminding him of his promise. She spent most of her time in the greenhouse or library, flipping through the books that had managed to hang on to all their pages, or the ones they had snatched in the other timelines. She had a handful of paperbacks, mostly murder mysteries and fantasy romances, at which she would cackled her through the afternoons and evenings. She would summon Five over to recite her favourite bits, or tell him about some wildlife fact from the dingy books piled in the greenhouse. She seemed to be at ease until he got up to leave. She would get quiet and cagey, and then, each and every time, she would tell him, “don’t get lost.”
He never went very far, and always avoided the express line. At this point, the excursions were less about finding a way home, and more about finding supplies for the home they had found. If he happened to get a glimpse of his family while topside, it was just the cherry on top.
This time, he took the northbound for two stops. It was the timeline he went to when he needed things. It was on the verge of an apocalypse, but the hardware store was still well stocked and the magazine stand outside hadn’t been blown up. He snatched another paperback at random and lingered over the newspaper. The headline read:
“Umbrella Academy Thwarts Vampire Chimp Boss”
Klaus was featured front and centre in the image below, striking a pose while Diego, and Luther stand behind him, arms crossed as if they were his body guards. Five slipped the newspaper off the stand and into his bag before heading into the hardware store to get twine for Lila. The ground rumbled briefly as he walked back out.
“Excuse me, sir,” The kid at the news stand called over to Five and gestured at his bag, where the newspaper was hanging out the top. “Did you pay for that?”
“Nope,” Five shrugged and the ground rumbled again. The kid gripped his cart as all the papers rustled. “Enjoy the apocalypse, kid.”
He stepped off the curb and into the subway. All these years and he was finally getting called ‘sir’ again. Maybe one day, he would even feel his age.
The platform was covered in garbage, but Five brushed off a bench and sat down to take out his notebook. Timeline 798 will likely be destroyed soon. Hardware store no longer viable.
When Five returned, Lila was reading in the greenhouse. She had patched up an old armchair and dragged it in so she could soak up the sun with the plants a few weeks back and had barely left it since.
“Did you get the twine?” She asked without looking up.
“Several kinds,” He dumped his bag out on the table, letting large spools of cord, twine and jute roll out and onto the floor. “Got you a new book too.”
“Oh, you spoil me, Five,” She jumped up from the arm chair and bounded over, rummaging in the dumped contents of his bag for the paperback. Her hands stilled over the newspaper. “What’s this?”
“I thought you might want to see it. Diego’s there too, in the back behind Klaus.” Five pointed to the image.
“Asshole,” She said, quietly.
“Excuse me?” He turned to look at her, hands on the table in front of her, leaning over the newspaper.
“I’m sick of seeing him, Five,” Lila’s voice shook slightly. “I’m sick of seeing them all. That’s not my husband. He just looks like him. And that’s not your family.”
“Lila, I know it’s not the same, but-“
She reached out and ripped the paper in half, throwing one side in Five’s face and shredding the other in her hands as she screamed, “But nothing! I’m sick of being reminded of his stupid face! I just get angrier every time I see it! It’s not him! It will never be him!”
“I thought we weren’t giving up…” Five dodged another handful of paper, blinking behind Lila.
“I did not say that!” She spun around to face him,
“Oh, my mistake,” He held up his hands and rolled his eyes. “How could I have misinterpreted your words?”
“God, you’re such a dick sometimes, Five!” She grabbed a ball of string from the table and chucked it at him.
“I’m a dick? I’m the one going out to get supplies now. I’m the one risking my neck for your shitty paperbacks!” He threw the little book at her and she knocked it out of the air.
“God, you sound just like him sometimes!” She blinked forwards and shoved him hard.
“You’re the one who married him!” He fell into the sofa.
“Well, we all make mistakes, don’t we?” She shouted, but her last words seemed to catch in her throat. She coughed and sputtered, and tears sprung into her eyes as she dropped to the floor. “I can’t believe I just said that.”
“Lila…” Five was frozen to his seat. “It’s okay… It’s been a long time.”
“I miss my kids, Five.” She sobbed, looking up at him. He hesitated, gripping the edge of the sofa. “I’m tired. Every time I see him, I think of them. Why aren’t they in any of these places? Why can’t I see them?”
“I don’t know,” He inched forward, looking down at her as she gripped at the pieces of shredded newsprint.
“I’m so tired… I needed a break. I haven’t been going with you but every time you leave, I’m afraid you won’t come back.” She wiped a hand across her eyes. “And if you don’t come back, I’ll really never see them again.”
The horror of that seemed to wash over her even as the words left her mouth and her eyes welled up again. Five slid off the edge of the sofa and onto the floor next to her.
“It’s okay,” He said, feebly. “I won’t leave again without you. We can take a break. We’ll look for them again later.”
She leaned into his shoulder, wet face soaking into his shirt as she cried. He wrapped his arms around her and waited until she stopped shaking. Her breathing slowed down and she gulped back some of her remaining tears.
“I’m sorry,” She mumbled and linked her hands around his waist.
Five had never been particularly good at comforting people, but it was not the first time Lila had cried in their time together. It probably wouldn’t be the last. It wasn’t the first time she had thrown something at him in a rage or leaned on his shoulder, mumbling a half-hearted apology. It wasn’t even the first time he felt the guilty pit in his stomach as he held her close.
“I’m not just like Diego, am I?” He said, quietly. She choked on a surprised laugh.
“No,” She laughed and sat up, pulling out of his arms. She wiped her face and smiled at him. “I would have killed you by now if you were.”