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The scratching of pencil on paper is getting on your nerves.
Night had fallen many hours ago, yet Five still sits in the corner of your bunker working on those damn equations, his silhouette illuminated only by the candlelight that casts flickering shadows upon the concrete walls.
You clench your jaw, letting out a deep sigh in the process. How long would can he keep this up? Isn’t he drowning in exhaustion, just like you are?
He’s always working on the equations. Whenever he has spare time. If you both aren’t scavenging for supplies in the wasteland, then he’s sitting in that same corner, scribbling nonsensical mathematics in his notebook that was falling apart at the edges. You had found him that notebook, you gave it to him for his 19th birthday after managing to find it in an old school.
The sound of pencil on paper was once soothing. It used to reassure you that you weren’t alone in this wasteland, that Five was still there. But now it was the opposite. Because you knew what those equations were for. You knew what he was aiming to do. He was going to time-travel back home.
You couldn’t blame him. You knew if you had the chance, you would do anything in your power to get out of here.
And you did all that you could to help him. You gathered his supplies, you reminded him to take breaks and you celebrated with him when he made another breakthrough.
But it still hurt.
Because once he was gone, then what?
You would be alone. Isolated in a world of no hope. There would be nothing left for you. No reason to keep going. The only thing you had waiting for you was a life of survival and loneliness. With a slow, harsh death that would eventually follow. There was no hope for your future, the only reason you were still here was for Five. But soon he would be gone, and you would be nothing but another life lost to the apocalypse.
You roll over on the mattress, harshly tugging the old, ratty blanket up to your chin as tears gather in the corner of your eyes and threaten to fall down your face.
The scratching of pencil on paper grows louder.
It wasn’t Five’s fault, but you couldn’t help the anger that brews inside of you. It waits patiently for a moment to burst out of you like an ugly monster.
The scratching of pencil on paper grows faster.
"Damnit, Five, can you give it a bone?" You finally snap. The monster has emerged.
The scratching of pencil on paper stops.
"What?" Five’s confused tone rises from the corner.
You sit up on the mattress, the blanket pools around your waist. "That fucking noise is killing me. Just give it up for tonight and go to bed."
Five drops the pencil. "What is your issue?" He asks, his tone rising.
You lift your hands in an expression of your exasperation before clenching them into fists that fall down into your lap. "My issue? We’ve been out all day, every day in the fucking heat gathering supplies and I’m exhausted. I want to go to sleep." You yell.
Five gets up roughly and stalks towards you and before you knew it, you were jumping off the mattress to face off with him. You weren’t too far apart in height, but with the added look of anger upon his face, he might as well have been towering over you. But you aren’t going to back down.
"I’m so sorry, that you want to sleep," he starts, his voice dangerously low. "But meanwhile, I’ve been working my ass off on these equations for the past 7 years to get home." His voice was getting louder now and he was only seconds away from yelling. "It’s like you want to stay in the apocalypse!" There it is. He’s yelling now. His anger pouring out and matching yours.
"How could you say that?" You cry out, folding your arms across your chest. "You know I want you to go home!"
"But do you want to go home?"
Everything stops.
A silence falls over the both of you as the question consumes you. You take a step back from Five and the back of your heels hit the mattress. Your arms cross tighter across your chest, defensively. You feel your throat closing up and tears spring to your eyes and you will them not to fall. "Don’t ask me that, Five," your voice soft and wavering. "We both know the answer."
Five’s brows furrow and he steps towards you, but you can’t step any further away. He slowly reaches out and places an uncertain hand on your shoulder. "What do you mean?" His voice more gentle now.
You bite your lip and gently shake your head, looking over his shoulder. The tears had welled up and your vision blurs as you struggle to keep them from falling.
"Y/N."
You finally look back at Five, who is watching you with a look of concern.
"I-" Your voice comes out in a choked sob and you push your fist to your mouth. Finally, the tears spill down your face as your forced to reveal your desolate thoughts to Five. The hot tears roll down freely, and you sniffle as you try to contain yourself. "I know it’s impossible for me to go back with you. I want you to go back… but it hurts. It hurts so much to know that soon you’ll be gone and I’m just going to be here… alone."
Five stares at you before pulling you close to him and wrapping his arms around you. One of his hands wraps around your waist while to other reaches up to stroke gently at your hair. You cry into his shoulder. You’re going to miss him.
"Y/N, Y/N, you’ve got it all wrong," he mutters gently into your ear.
You pull back slightly and look at him inquisitively. "What do you mean?"
Five sighs as he pulls back, still holding you by your elbows. "I’m not leaving without you. That’s why these equations are so difficult. It’s because you’re coming home with me."
A breath of air releases from your lungs as your eyes widen. You’re going home with him? You’re actually going to be able to leave this place!
You launch yourself back into his arms and Five lets out a surprised yelp as he stumbles back slightly before once again wrapping his arms securely around you.
"I thought you were gonna leave me, I thought I was gonna be all on my own," you whisper into his neck.
"I’d never leave you, Y/N," he whispers back, tightening his arms around you.
You stay like that for a few minutes, revelling in each other’s comfort.
Eventually, you pull back and smile at Five, who smiles back at you and reaches out to brush the drying tears from your rosy cheeks. "I ought to get back to work then."
You let out a watery chuckle and pull yourself out of his grasp, pressing your lips together as you smile brightly, "I won’t distract you anymore. But give yourself a break soon."
"Of course," and with that, Five makes his way back to the corner, where he resumes his seat by the candlelight and continues writing.
You lay back down on the mattress and roll onto your side, pulling the old, comforting blanket that smells of Five up to your chin.
The scratching of pencil on paper lulls you to sleep with a soft smile upon your face.