Everything had happened so quickly, had spun out of control beneath his feet, and yet, somehow, they did it. He spends his days waiting for the retribution, waiting for the fact that the Commission will inevitably find him, hunt him down, and punish him for the myriad crimes he's committed over the years pressed under the Handler's thumb.
It's been a week with the family huddled around Vanya, trying to help guide and teach her how to use her powers. Better, he thinks, than being locked in some holding cell deep in the belly of the mansion. He'd only heard about it second hand from his siblings, but needless to say, Luther's kept his distance. The house, for all its activity, still feels strangely foreign to him. The corridors and rooms unfamiliar, having been gone for the better part of four decades. Everything, from the moment he was discovered in the apocalypse to now had been for this moment, hadn't it? All the work, all the killing, all the bloodshed, to bring him here.
He stands in the foyer, hands tucked into his pockets, staring up at the grand stair case and the backlit windows overhead. It had been nothing but a cracked foundation and ash, his siblings but lawn ornaments against the backdrop of a broken world. There's cleanup to do still, bodies to make sure the police never find, messes to clean, buildings to burn. Too many wild, loose ends for his liking, especially when he doesn't have briefcase, doesn't have the means to wrap it all up in a bow and ship it off.
The house feels small, even though he must look even smaller against it. What does he do now. Every moment, rushing and running and desperately reaching for this and, what? He foolishly hadn't considered his options, hadn't drawn out what his life might be on the blueprint, only his family's.
Delores is tucked safely back in the consignment shop; Allison, Klaus, Diego and Vanya seem to work tirelessly to teach her control; Luther keeps his distance, though not without a watchful, concerned eye. Five joins, occasionally, sitting in a window to watch them work, to blink across the room if only to spare one of his siblings an errant ball or item Vanya tries to control. Baby steps, but he marvels at how natural it feels to sit and watch Vanya discover her talents surrounded by care. Faults, mistakes, lead to gentle encouragement. No punishment or cruel training waits around the bend, and for the first time in all of Five's strange, time-twisted life, he feels the family collectively exhale.
Reginald Hargreeves knew what they were capable of, knew one of the ways he might harness that power, but even the wisest men on Earth don't have all the answers. He didn't have access to this moment in the catalogue, where Extraordinary humans find a way to move forward in the most ordinary of ways.
But a week, nearly two, passes, and it sees Klaus and Allison finally going home, leaving Vanya stable and comfortable enough to slowly practice her abilities. Five finds her sometimes, spars with her in the Great Room, in the halls, and tries to quietly foster the wonder he catches behind her eyes. It fills the time. Luther and Diego? Well, who the hell knows what they're planning. The world is changed, and what that means for whatever future they weren't meant to have, he doesn't know. He'll need to find out. He has to. How he does that, however, is the next step.
Shaking his head, he moves away from the landing. How much time has passed since Vanya left and he saw her out, he doesn't know. He makes his way down the stairs, deep in thought, when he opens one front doors and narrowly misses hitting Diego, managing to blink his way down a few steps to avoid a collision.
"If you're looking for Vanya, she's gone."
Gone home, of course. Haven't all of them? Five's not sure anywhere will feel like home to him anymore. "Grace is in the library, Pogo's in the old man's office, and Luther's licking his wounds in the attic."
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ᴏʜ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴅᴏ ᴡᴇ ɢᴏ ɴᴏᴡ ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ?
Everything had happened so quickly, had spun out of control beneath his feet, and yet, somehow, they did it. He spends his days waiting for the retribution, waiting for the fact that the Commission will inevitably find him, hunt him down, and punish him for the myriad crimes he's committed over the years pressed under the Handler's thumb.
It's been a week with the family huddled around Vanya, trying to help guide and teach her how to use her powers. Better, he thinks, than being locked in some holding cell deep in the belly of the mansion. He'd only heard about it second hand from his siblings, but needless to say, Luther's kept his distance. The house, for all its activity, still feels strangely foreign to him. The corridors and rooms unfamiliar, having been gone for the better part of four decades. Everything, from the moment he was discovered in the apocalypse to now had been for this moment, hadn't it? All the work, all the killing, all the bloodshed, to bring him here.
He stands in the foyer, hands tucked into his pockets, staring up at the grand stair case and the backlit windows overhead. It had been nothing but a cracked foundation and ash, his siblings but lawn ornaments against the backdrop of a broken world. There's cleanup to do still, bodies to make sure the police never find, messes to clean, buildings to burn. Too many wild, loose ends for his liking, especially when he doesn't have briefcase, doesn't have the means to wrap it all up in a bow and ship it off.
The house feels small, even though he must look even smaller against it. What does he do now. Every moment, rushing and running and desperately reaching for this and, what? He foolishly hadn't considered his options, hadn't drawn out what his life might be on the blueprint, only his family's.
Delores is tucked safely back in the consignment shop; Allison, Klaus, Diego and Vanya seem to work tirelessly to teach her control; Luther keeps his distance, though not without a watchful, concerned eye. Five joins, occasionally, sitting in a window to watch them work, to blink across the room if only to spare one of his siblings an errant ball or item Vanya tries to control. Baby steps, but he marvels at how natural it feels to sit and watch Vanya discover her talents surrounded by care. Faults, mistakes, lead to gentle encouragement. No punishment or cruel training waits around the bend, and for the first time in all of Five's strange, time-twisted life, he feels the family collectively exhale.
Reginald Hargreeves knew what they were capable of, knew one of the ways he might harness that power, but even the wisest men on Earth don't have all the answers. He didn't have access to this moment in the catalogue, where Extraordinary humans find a way to move forward in the most ordinary of ways.
But a week, nearly two, passes, and it sees Klaus and Allison finally going home, leaving Vanya stable and comfortable enough to slowly practice her abilities. Five finds her sometimes, spars with her in the Great Room, in the halls, and tries to quietly foster the wonder he catches behind her eyes. It fills the time. Luther and Diego? Well, who the hell knows what they're planning. The world is changed, and what that means for whatever future they weren't meant to have, he doesn't know. He'll need to find out. He has to. How he does that, however, is the next step.
Shaking his head, he moves away from the landing. How much time has passed since Vanya left and he saw her out, he doesn't know. He makes his way down the stairs, deep in thought, when he opens one front doors and narrowly misses hitting Diego, managing to blink his way down a few steps to avoid a collision.
"If you're looking for Vanya, she's gone."
Gone home, of course. Haven't all of them? Five's not sure anywhere will feel like home to him anymore. "Grace is in the library, Pogo's in the old man's office, and Luther's licking his wounds in the attic."