Mom hasn't changed a bit.

Even before his disappearance, Five had been unnerved by her and it seems that that hasn't changed either.

She was warm and loving where his father was cold and impassive, but he'd never been able to get past the fact that none of it was real.

She was a machine. She may have acted like she loved them, but it was all programmed by their father.

The point being, no matter what Diego thinks, she isn't real.

But seeing her shakes something loose inside him and he sucks in a ragged breath that drags along his ribcage.

How long has it been since someone looked at him like that?

She smiles at him, like he hasn't even been gone a day, and says, "Let's get you all fixed up, alright? Then I'll make cookies and you'll be right as rain."

There's no reason he should get choked up after this, but he does and it's absolutely mortifying.

"Mom…"

He tries to sit up straighter, but Mom clucks her tongue and brushes his hair away from his face and he hasn't been touched in so long, especially not like this and it's… it's nice.

Nice in a way that makes his chest hurt and his vision blurr.

"You're going to be okay," Mom says and she goes right on smiling.

Here's the thing about the end of the world: you're alone.

There's no one to tell you things are going to be okay.

There is no being okay.

You break your arm and you suck it up and you keep going and you pray that it's not enough to end your life, that you're strong enough to keep going.

You run out of rations and you either find more or you starve.

That's it.

The end.

The apocalypse was an unforgiving mistress. She awarded no second chances.

Mom might not be human, but she's more human than anything he had in the apocalypse. She's more human than Dad ever was.

Five cries and all the while Mom stays by his side.

The whole experience is humiliating and maybe the only upside to it is that Dad isn't here to witness his breakdown.

"Mom?" He lifts his chin, seeking her eyes. She pauses, waiting expectantly. "The others-" He swallows thickly, thinking of his siblings. "Where are they?"

"Oh, they all moved out years ago," she answers brightly. "They've all done well for themselves, I think. I'm very proud of them."

"Really?" Five is happy to hear that.

He is.

But also it hurts.

It hurts to think of his siblings moving on and starting lives without him there beside them.

Isn't that what you wanted for them? he thinks.

Of course.

Of course, he wanted them to be happy. That's all he's ever wanted for them.

But he also wanted to be with them.

He wanted to have grown up with them by his side.

A throat clears behind them.

Five's heart does a flip flop in his chest and he swallows thickly.

Dad stands in the doorway, regarding them both coldly.

"If you're finished…" He leaves the sentence unfinished, trusting them both to understand what he expects.

They do.

"Of course." Mom shifts, her hand finding Five's and giving it a comforting squeeze before she rises.

She pauses at Reginald's side. "He's still recovering. His body needs time to heal, before…"

Dad doesn't look at her. "Leave us."

Mom hesitates briefly, before leaving with one last reassuring look cast over her shoulder.

Five watches her go and wishes desperately that she wouldn't, but there's no way to call her back.

He doesn't want to be left alone with Dad.

Short of the apocalypse, in fact, he'd rather be just about anywhere else.

There's a moment where neither of them says a thing, but the silence is heavy.

Dad always did like to let them stew in their mistakes before dressing them down.

Five remembers how this went very clearly.

Dad's not gonna win today.

There's a fluttery sensation within his chest and he inhales.

"You were wrong," he grinds out, proud of himself when his voice doesn't shake. "I did it." With each word, his boldness seems to grow. "I time traveled."

"Did you?" Dad takes a step forward, towering over him.

Five fights the instinctive urge to cower, lifting his chin to meet Dad's gaze head on.

Flakes of ash fall from the ceiling like macabre snowflakes, settling on his father's head and shoulders, but Dad doesn't seem to notice.

"Did you actually succeed, Number Five?" He looks him over with scorn. "You stagger back after nearly two decades, half-starved like some feral dog and you want to tell me you actually succeeded? That you know better?"

Five swallows hard.

The room is fading, replaced with piled rubble and thick smog.

Only Dad remains, untouched, unperturbed by the death that's heaped around them. The fire is reflected in his eyes.

Horror snatches Five's voice from him.

"... I am speaking to you, Number Five!"

Five gasps, snapping back.

The world has a fuzzy feeling to it, still fighting to come back into focus. There's a buzzing in his ears.

Dad watches him and his eyes burn bright, hungry. "I don't need you to tell me where you've been. Your condition makes it abundantly obvious." He steps closer and Five watches him warily, heart thumping in his chest. Dad's eyes are alive with curiosity. It makes Five feel like he's under a microscope. "The end of the world. That's what you saw, isn't it?"

Five can't hide his jerk of surprise. "What do you know about that?" he breathes.

Dad had always said the Umbrella Academy was meant to save the world.

It took landing in an apocalyptic future for him to realize he may actually have been right all along.

But Dad doesn't answer him.

Instead, he stands up, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles from his vest.

"You already have all the tools necessary at your disposal," he says. His tone indicates no room for further questions. "As I'm sure it won't be long before news of your return has your… worthless siblings crawling out from the woodwork."

Five bristles at that- he didn't fight with everything he had to come back to siblings who were worthless- but he knows better than to contradict his father.

"You've proven resourceful, Number Five. I'm sure you can do so again."

/

"What do you mean he isn't here?" Vanya frowns, forehead wrinkling.

"Exactly what it sounds like." Diego doesn't drop eye contact with the secretary sitting behind the desk. He's past losing patience- it's already gone. "Dad already got him, came and checked him out."

"What?" Vanya's heart jumps to her throat. If Dad has Five… There are a hundred things that could have happened already, but Vanya can't bear thinking about any of them. "Then we have to go get him!"

"I agree." Diego finally breaks eye contact with the stuttering secretary. There's a vein bulging in his temple. His jaw is tight.

Vanya understands.

She's just as apprehensive about confronting Dad as he is.

Maybe more so, but what else can they do?

They can't just… leave him.

A dozen different scenarios are playing out in her head.

The most obvious one involves what Five had been trying to do all those years ago.

Time travel.

She always wondered what had happened to him, where he had gone, why he had never come back, not even for her.

Had he actually managed to time travel? And if he had… why hadn't he simply come back? To them? To her?

"Come on." Diego cuts into her musings.

She turns. "Where are we going?"
"Back to my place," he says. "We're obviously not going to get anywhere else talking to her." He jerks his chin in the woman's direction.

Vanya gives her an apologetic glance- she seems nice enough after all- but tails after her brother.

She has more important things to worry about.