Well, in light of the new season, I figured it was time I wrote another fic for the fandom. This disregards all of the plots for the new season but will keep some characters and have some similar moments. As per usual, I have no set updating schedule, nor do I know how long this story will be! A huge thanks to Jane L. Black supporting and helping me with this! I'm gonna let you get to the actual story now! Let me know what y'all think!

Eyes snapping open, Five bolted upright. He looked around frantically, counting heads at the best of his ability through the rain and the darkness. Allison was there, as was Klaus and Diego. The large lump to his right could be none other than Luther. The white-clad figure a couple of feet away had to be Vanya. So who in the hell was the sixth one? Though there were a lot of things that had gone kind of hazy in Five's mind, he was fairly certain he only had five siblings. At least, he'd only had five siblings since Ben died. Ben. Wordlessly, Five managed to crawl over to the figure and shake it. It groaned, rolling over as a flash of lightning lit up its face. Ben.

Awestruck, he barely heard the groans and grumbles around him. "Holy shit." His brother's eyes looked up at him, as alive as they had been when they'd last seen each other forty-five years prior. It took a few moments of staring before Ben seemed to realize that Five was actually seeing him. He sat up so quickly their foreheads knocked together, their simultaneous pained exclamations finally alerting the others to the strange but happy accident. When it registered with them that no, they were in fact not imagining things, Five didn't have time to dodge them. Without meaning to, or wanting to, he was entangled in a sobbing heap of limbs.

Diego pulled away first. "Where are we?" He paused, eyebrows furrowed. "Actually, when are we?" He looked around, trying to find any kind of clue as to where and when Five had taken them. A poster stapled to a dimly lit bulletin board advertised the premiere of Hitchcock's Psycho. The problem? Well, he was fairly certain that Psycho had premiered in the freaking Sixties. Yes, those Sixties. As in the height-of-psychedelic-drug-use, political assassinations, and the goddamn Vietnam war Sixties. "Oh, fuck me."

"I'd rather not, actually," Klaus quipped, refusing to let go of Ben, "You are so not my type."

"Shut up, moron," Diego barked, rounding on his siblings, "Look around." He pulled them out onto the street, gesturing to the poster. Horror twisted Allison's features as it dawned on her what he was saying. They needed to get her out of there. The Sixties weren't safe for her. Behind them, Five started muttering to himself as he paced back and forth. "So we know when we are," he continued, ignoring his younger, older little brother, "Now we gotta figure out where we are so we can find a place to lay low."

Luther turned to Five, supporting Vanya with an arm around her. "Do you have any idea where you've taken us?" But his brother wasn't listening. They were soaking wet, the thunder was roaring around them, they had no idea where they were, the one responsible for the mess wasn't even listening. Making sure Vanya was settled as well as she could, Luther picked Five up by the collar, shaking him lightly. "Hey, pipsqueak," he shouted over the thunder, "We need to find shelter, there's no time for your mad plans."

A well-aimed punch to Luther's nose had Five back on the ground in seconds. "We're in Dallas, King Kong," he retorted sharply, "If you paid attention, you know, like the protector you claim to be, you would've noticed the newspaper plastered right under your fucking feet." Luther jumped away, allowing Five to snatch the dripping, slippery paper off the ground. He shifted a little, trying to illuminate the tiny print with the help of a dim streetlight. "October 31, 1960," he muttered, "Hey, look at that, only twenty-eight years and eleven months till we're born." He filtered through his memories, trying to remember if he knew of anywhere for them to go in the general Dallas area. Come to think of it… there was one place. "This way."

Skeptical but lacking other options, the Hargreeves siblings followed their brother as he led them along streets and into alleys until they were suddenly leaving the city. It stopped raining as they took a left off the road they were trekking and half an hour later they stopped outside a rundown, old house. Luther set Vanya down on the dusty, moth-eaten couch as soon as they were inside, all of them shivering violently. Five popped through the house, looking for candles, while Allison went off in search of blankets.

Eventually, they settled in the living room, Vanya, Ben and Allison occupying the couch while Diego slumped into the only armchair. Luther, exhausted and unable to bother, just laid on the carpet, staring at the ceiling alongside Klaus. For a while, all they could hear was the patter of Five's feet and their own breathing. Then they looked at their brother. "What is this place," Diego asked tiredly, "How did you know about it?" Five finished lighting all the candles he could find before he turned to them.

"It's an old Commission hideout," he explained, wondering if there was enough dry wood to make a lasting fire without them having to chop up the furniture, "It's been abandoned since the Twenties." He stacked the pieces available in the fireplace over some crumpled up napkins and ripped up papers from notebooks, using a candle to get the fire going. They needed a plan, a course of action. But even Five was tired. It had taken a lot out of him to transport all seven of them so far back in time. "We should get some sleep," he muttered, rolling his eyes at the shocked glances he received, "It's been a long week, we can make a plan tomorrow."

It didn't take long for them to fall asleep. None of them moved from their spots, simply succumbing to exhaustion where they sat. Five perched in the bay window, guarding his family for as long as he could before he too fell into slumber.

"I'll miss you."

With a gasp, Five shot into an upright position. He had a crick in his neck which further agitated him as the words echoed in his mind. Looking around, he found his siblings still fast asleep, Vanya's soft snores calming his beating heart. Who had spoken, if not one of the others? Outside, the sky had cleared, revealing a brightly shining shard of the moon high above. The same moon Vanya had destroyed almost sixty years in the future. They'd been given a chance to help her, a chance to fix the damage their demented father had caused. April 1, 2019. They had fifty-nine years.

"Machu Picchu, an Incan city."

What the hell? Tense and ready to strike, Five glanced around him carefully. All of the others were still sleeping and though Klaus was muttering in his sleep, it wasn't his voice that Five heard. He stood, walked through the house soundlessly, searched every nook he came across. They were alone. Safe. For the moment anyway. Five returned to his window, glaring suspiciously into the shadows. Waiting. But he was still tired. And soon enough, his eyes closed again.

Once morning came around, he opened his eyes slowly, adjusting to the sudden sunlight. Of his companions, only Ben and Vanya remained, wrapped around each other in their sleep. The fire was out, though it wasn't too cold as the sun was rising outside. Five only had one thing on his mind. If he didn't get coffee soon, heads would roll. The recollection of the voice he'd heard that night troubled him as he dug through cabinets in search of coffee grounds and a coffeemaker. It had to be a strange dream, one among many he'd had since landing in the apocalypse. It couldn't be real. There hadn't been anyone in the house.

All his thoughts shifted to coffee as he found what he was looking for, only for him to remember that there was no power. And where the hell had his other siblings run off to? Glaring at the coffee pot, he contemplated his options. He could just find the switchboard and turn on the electricity, completely ignoring the rather noticeable absence of Allison, Monkey Boy, Knife Boy, and Spooky. Or he could look into where they'd gone. Which, he supposed, was the right thing to do. Eventually, Five shrugged and jumped into the basement.

His ears were immediately assaulted by the sound of yelling. Allison stood with her back to him, shaking her head as she watched the three of the idiots they called family argue over which switch did what. Five stood beside her, eyebrows raised and lips pursed. She nodded impatiently, gesturing to her throat. Mouth opening in a silent 'ah', he shrugged and turned to the singular shared brain cell in front of them. "Hey, assholes," he shouted, making them stop to look at him, "Step aside and let us grownups handle this." Allison sent him a grateful look and walked over to the switchboard, gesturing to a list on the wall where each function was listed neatly. She flicked several different switches, turning on central heating, water and electricity without much fanfare, rolling her eyes alongside Five as the three brothers immediately started defending themselves. "Coffee," Five asked her, letting her pass him on the way up to the house again, "I was about to make a pot."

When they got back upstairs, Ben and Vanya were in the kitchen, cabinets open around them. Allison gestured to the open doors, silently asking what they were doing.

"We figured we should try to find some food," Vanya explained, shoulders sagging, "Not that we actually succeeded." Silence fell as the Hargreeves contemplated their next move. They'd need sustenance, and they needed it soon if they expected Five to jump them elsewhere. For that matter, they only had a limited amount of time before the Commission inevitably found them. "What are we going to do?" Well, Vanya knew one thing she needed to do. Practice. If she ever wanted to control her powers and stop the apocalypse for good, she had to learn how to control rather than contain. But she'd need help and to get that help, she needed her siblings alive rather than starved.

Leaning back against the wall, Diego sighed heavily. "We can't stay in Dallas," he reasoned, "Southern America in the 1960s isn't exactly the best place for Allison." It wasn't right and he hated that they couldn't stay and just live there. But he wanted to keep his family safe and, because people were prejudiced pricks with nothing better to do than being racist asses for absolutely no reason, Dallas wasn't the ideal place for that. His stomach grumbled, as did several others around him. "Alright, I'll take Klaus and Ben to the store," he stated, "In the meantime, you guys can figure out where we go next."

Klaus skipped ahead of Diego to the garage, Ben following at a much more leisurely pace. He'd seen an old Chevrolet Bel Air during his exploration earlier in the morning and he was fairly certain he could hot-wire it. To his disappointment, the key had been left in the ignition. He tried starting the engine without much of a result. Another attempt. Something happened, but it sounded more like coughing than an engine. One last try. There. The car came to life and Klaus grinned maniacally.

"You're not driving," Diego muttered, "I barely survived the apocalypse, I don't need to die because you sat behind the wheel."

"I can drive."

From the backseat, Ben snorted. "No, you can't," he remarked, grinning, "Remember the ice cream truck?" That had been a fun ride, meant to cause some damage. Sitting in the Bel Air, he knew Diego was right. He'd just come back to life and he had no desire to die. Again. "Come on, we can play Rock, Paper, Scissors on the way." Klaus took the bait. He'd regret it later because he always picked Scissors, but it was enough to get him out of the driver's seat.

They got to the store, and Klaus was sulking, his arms crossed over his chest. Diego, wearing Luther's ginormous coat, walked in first, quickly knocking out the staff. It was still early and the street was empty was Ben and Klaus followed their brother. Ben had been given strict instructions to only have Klaus hold the bag while he picked up useful stuff with a long shelf-life. Together, they stuffed three bags with food and then filled all of Klaus' pockets. "I hope this is enough for a while," Ben said, setting the last bag down beside him in the backseat. Klaus had called shotgun, but he didn't seem to be listening as Diego voiced his agreement. "Hey, is everything okay?"

"Is there usually a woman with horrible bangs watching us?"

Diego's eyes widened and he looked to where Klaus was pointing. Because there had only been one other woman with bangs watching them. ChaCha. And while the woman on the corner of the street wasn't ChaCha, her uniform and hair gave away who she worked for. "Shit, we need to get out of here." He hit the gas, driving away from the stranger as fast as he could. They needed to get the hell out of Dallas as soon as possible.

Everyone jumped when Ben practically fell through the front door, gasping incoherent sentences while Diego stepped over him and rushed over to the closet in the hallway. Five turned to Ben, ignoring Klaus as he stepped in with an ice cream cone in his hand. "What the hell happened?" He listened to the half-intelligible explanation as Diego rushed past them an upended three paper bags above the open backpacks before he zipped the bags and rushed back to the house, shoving one bag at Luther and another at Allison before he put on the last one himself.

"The Commission."

"Already?" Five looked out through the still-open door, seeing another car pull up. "Shit." He gestured for his siblings to follow him through the backdoor as he tried to think of somewhere to go. Somewhere safe, with enough shelter. A place where the Commission wouldn't even consider looking for them. The others grabbed hold of each other as Klaus grabbed one of his hands and Vanya took the other. The blue vortex appeared above them just as the voice spoke to him again.

"When the Spanish colonized South America, they never discovered Machu Picchu…"

Oh, crap.