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Five Hargreeves and The Umbrella Academy Heirs

Summary:

"So you want us to help you create a world where we don't exist?"

"Possibly don't exist... yes,"

"Uncle Five, you're out of your mind,"

"Don't call me that,"

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After the first apocalypse, Five doubts his abilities mid-jump. He messes up. With his siblings gone, he retreats to The Academy to look for answers. Except, there are people already there. People he's never met, but are strangely familiar.

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Five could feel the rippling pull of time and space on his skin. The Hargreeves stood in a circle holding hands, something Five was sure they never had done before today. April 1st. Five glanced at Vanya, limp in Luther's arms. Luther was looking up at the sky, his expression tense. Allison was on Five's left, her hair whipping around her face as the blue light around them became unbearable to look at. Five grimaced, shutting his eyes and struggling to focus on the time he wanted to arrive in. A week before? A month?

"Five!" Diegos voice startled him out of his thoughts. He couldn't open his eyes, the light was painfully bright, but he could feel what was wrong. Five's fingers dug into his palms as he felt Diego's hand slip out of his grasp. He wanted to open his eyes, to shout for his brother, to catch him before he was gone. He couldn't. He reaches to hold onto Allison tighter and is met with empty space. The pressure on either side of him was intensifying. It was a feeling he was familiar with but it was nothing to ease his mind.

He just had to focus. Jump backward! Or what if his siblings were still in 2019? What if he left them there by accident? He wasn't used to jumping so many people. If they were still at the Icarus Theatre while the world imploded they were as good as dead. Yes, he had to jump forward now! Or was it to not jump at all? To stay exactly where he was?

And just when it all became too much to wrap his head around without a chalkboard to write down his thoughts, Five hit the ground. His palms hit the smooth floor before his chest as he crumbled to the floor. Five groaned, rolling into his side and holding his elbow. He inhaled sharply, pushing himself up again like a soldier in battle. What year was it? The boy in the school uniform stands and finds himself looking out at an empty theatre. He was standing on the stage, alone. His siblings were gone like they were phantoms of the auditorium.

"Hey!" Five whirled on a man standing in the wings with a long broom. "What the hell are you doing here? We're closed. How'd you-?"

Five didn't wait for the impending series of questions, turning on his heel and disappearing with a crack. He stumbled as he landed outside the theatre. The sun glared over his face. It was beautiful outside. Not quite the weather for an Earth-destroying apocalypse... Five shaded his eyes with his hand as he scanned the street. He wasn't far from the academy... The boy took off down the sidewalk. If he were Klaus, or Luther or Vanya, and he got lost in space and time, he'd head back to main base; home. That was his best chance at finding them. He just had to hope they had the same idea.

Five passed stores and restaurants, all busy with pedestrians. Everything seemed... normal. It made Five's stomach churn, it didn't sit right with him. Brushing past a woman with her children Five picked up the pace, spacial jumping himself forward until finally, he was there.

The Umbrella Academy stood at full height, in perfect condition. It was just as it had always been, unmoving and unshakable by anything... except Vanya, Five now supposed. Five pushed his way through the gate and up the stairs. The academy crest loomed over him on the door, the metal twisting into a perfect umbrella. Five gripped the doorknob. If his siblings weren't here... Five shook the thought away. One problem at a time. He needed someone to tell him the year. He was sure he could find some proof of it inside. It was better than the alternative; stumbling around and asking a stranger if they knew the full date.

Five turned the knob and pushed. The door swung open without resistance, only a slight creek from the aging hinges. Grace usually polished those regularly to prevent the noise. However, the noise from the door was nothing like that from inside the academy. Voices, many of them, filled the entrance hall from the floor above. As Five got closer to the center of the hall he could hear them.

"Why so quick to point the finger at me, huh?"

"Because Gabby doesn't wear eyeliner!"

"And what about Max?"

"Oh, don’t drag me into this, Claire-Bear,”

Five tilt his head back to look up at the second floor. The chandler was just as magnificent as it had always been, the glass glittering in the mid-day sun. The house was in near perfect condition. Five focused on keeping his breath quiet as he listened. The voices were new, that was certain.

"If its any help, I saw Sofia in your room yesterday,"

"Who's side are you on, jerk?"

"No infighting, guys! We agreed. I'm not sitting through another compliment circle so you all start speaking again,"

"Hey! You love the compliment circle. It’s one of my best ideas!"

"That's not saying much,"

"Awe, Jamie, you're sweet,"

Probably Commission members. Probably looking for him. That was another problem for later. Five paused at the table in the center of the room, resting his hand on its surface. He peered into the living room. His portrait was there, hanging above the mantel like it always had. The only glaring difference between the academy now and the one he had grown up in was the stuff left in the sitting room. There was a jacket thrown over the couch back, something Reginald never would have stood for. A book was left on the bar, a half-empty cup of what looked like apple juice on the coffee table... The Academy looked lived in. Far gone from Reginald's museum-like mansion. This was almost a home.

A small clatter erupted from the staircase as a pencil fell down the wooden steps.

"Max!"

"Agh! I'm sorry, I'll get it, don't cry,"

Short laughter was shared by the group upstairs. Five backed up, looking for the open door behind him. It seemed this was making itself a problem for now. There was no time to find the date here. He had to get out. Five turned around, ready to jump back to the street, just as there's a pause in the footsteps behind him. Five tensed. He didn't want to kill whoever this was, but he would if he had to, if it meant keeping himself concealed.

Five slowly turned back around, his hands clenching into soft fists. However, the boy standing on the steps wasn't what he expected. The kid couldn't be older than seventeen, with a mop of brown curly hair falling over his pale completion. He almost looked familiar, but Five couldn't quite place from where. Unless the Commission was hiring teenagers (teenagers that didn't have the mind of their 58-year-old selves) this wasn’t who he first thought. The gangly boy stood frozen on the steps, holding the fallen pencil in between his fingers. His gaze flickered into the living room, landing on the portrait, then turning back onto Five. He repeated this for quite a few lengthy seconds.

"... F-five?" He finally asked, his voice shaking, like he didn't want to be correct. Like this was a lot more trouble than he was hoping for this afternoon. Five stood still, watching the kid's wheels turn.

"Max?" Came a hesitant voice from the second floor. Max and Five starred at each other. Where did Five know him from? He couldn't place it. It made the skin crawl. Something wasn't right.

"Who are you..?" Five asked Max, straightening his posture and focusing his on the other teenager. "What are you doing here?" Who were these people in his home? For a long pause, Max seems at a loss for words. Tense seconds go by, and Five began to doubt that he would even respond at all. "Who are you?" Five repeated. Max inhaled, briefly glancing behind him like he half-expected his friends to be there.

"Five..." He finally started. "We're the Hargreeves,"