None of the siblings had expected to be ambushed by The Sparrow Academy, nor their own father.
Jagged fragments of brick scraped against the cold stone floors as Five attempted to carve out every theory, every reason he could decipher as to why their reality had changed. Calculations and theorems weren’t a difficult concept for Five, yet as numbers and letters began to morph into one, he could feel himself slowing down, cracks forming at the boundaries of his sanity. He thought back to the previous two weeks, he had barely slept, injured and forced to save a world he hadn’t even experienced for 45 years. Survival always came first, if you are asleep, you lose precious time. He shot up and paced the lengths of the warehouse, incoherent mumblings forming at the back of his throat.
“Five, we all need to stick together and figure out what has happened here. We need you to focus.” Luther trudged over to
Luther had become accustomed to his brother’s hostility after his brush with paradox psychosis, yet he still anticipated an edge of anger in his brother’s behaviour.
Turning around on the balls of his feet, Five squared up to his significantly larger brother, fists bundled tight in stress, trying to comprehend the words of his brother. “We somehow messed up the timeline and like everything else, I’m the one who has to fix it.” Finding your whole family dead in the apocalypse is one thing, but to watch them be killed twice again is enough to send anybody crazy and now, they had another problem to add to their list.
“Five please, you need to rest, we all do”
“We can’t rest until we figure out what exactly this timeline is” Suddenly, a crushing weight quickly overtook him, knocking him to his knees as his body lost control. A cold front washed over his small frame as he collapsed to the floor unresponsive. This wasn’t the first time Five had collapsed and nearing such a point was always a guarantee within his life. It was a feeling not so dissimilar to the earlier days of being stranded in the apocalypse. Traversing miles of barren landscape, fighting with your own abilities to escape was a cause for exhaustion, but the nightmares that rattled through his mind were enough to prevent him sleeping for more than minutes at a time. Collapsing from sleep deprivation was nothing new but was something that could never be enjoyed nor wanted from anyone. At least collapsing into slumber through alcohol emitted a warm, inviting comfort away from the brutal realities of the apocalypse, a feeling different to chilling winds and dust bowls he had to embrace for much of his remaining waking existence. Yet, even in the cold despair of sleep, there was a sense of warmth emitting from the deprived fluidity of his dreams.
“Well at least he will finally get some rest” chimed Allison, covering him with the length of her overcoat before sitting on a nearby crate. Shoving her head into her hands she sighed, glancing around at the surroundings of the abandoned warehouse. Klaus had passed out only moments prior, unconsciously clutching his knees desperately as to fight off any nightmares he could not control. Diego and Vanya had reduced themselves to a concrete foundation pillar, their eyes blurring between the lines of their own consciousness as they slowly gave up on holding back their desires for rest. They had all been pushed to their limits in the last 24 hours, injured and tormented, the least they could do is rest and gather a few hours of solace in their new chaotic situation.