Five and Damian
“Fuck.” Five looked around the damp alley he landed himself in.
One minute he was ducking for cover between clothing racks from Hazel and Cha-cha’s rifle assault, Dolores yelling at him to teleport. The next, he is face planting into the damp asphalt of an unhygienic alley. Five groaned and lift himself up with difficulty. He looked around, finding Dolores didn’t make the jump.
Five punched the ground. He was so close. Dolores right by his side. A plan to postpone the apocalypse. He doesn’t have time for a detour. His family’s life is at stake.
He tried to activate his powers. Space and time bending around him but not causing a rift. “Great,” he muttered through clenched teeth.
Having no clue where he is, the ex-assassin walked to the open streets to survey his surroundings. He observes familiar buildings and architecture. The road signs all look the same, but unfamiliar names are in place for the directions.
There are several stores still open. He eyed the fast-food restaurant, the Bat Burger. The name rings a bell, but he has no recollection of seeing it. Maybe a new chain of fast-food restaurant he missed; he dismisses.
He cleaned up the best he can, adjusting his tie, dusting himself, and putting on his school-boy persona.
He pushed the door open and a tune play. A very nostalgic jingle.
Darararararara Darararararara BATMAN!
It dawns on Five that this burger chain is inspired by Batman, the comic book character, and animated series he and his siblings would watch in secret. Mom would let them sneak in new issues and episodes, and letting them read and watch them in special nights. He remembers the superhero being the muse for their Umbrella Academy days. Robin, especially, was a huge inspiration to all of them, being a kid superhero themselves.
In the barren post-apocalyptic land, he found a plastic figurine of Batman and Robin. Each not far from the other, the inseparable Dynamic Duo surviving even the apocalypse. Damian had picked it up and added it to his cart.
“Uh, kid?”
Five doesn’t realize he’s been intensely glaring at the menu board. He snaps his attention back to reality.
“Yes. I would like to ask your assistance. I seem to have misplaced my phone and I need to get home. My guardians are probably worried sick about me.”
“Oh shit, are you one of Wayne’s kid?”
“What?”
“Bruce Wayne? And his collection of dark-haired orphans?”
“You mean Batman?”
“Nah man. Bruce Wayne. The billionaire playboy?”
“… Yes. Batman. Bruce Wayne. I thought you would know seeing as you work in this establishment?”
. “Are ya’ high kid?” the worker stares at Five with an honest bemused look. “Does the air in Gotham just automatically make people crazy?” he laments.
Five short circuited. “Excuse me?”
The clerk – Gary according to his name tag – sighed, “Look, kid. I’ll help you. But don’t mess with me.” Gary conceded his phone, dangling it in front of Five.
Five made a move to swipe at it. Gary moved it at the last second, squinting his eyes, “You don’t want to mess with me.”
The man’s attempt to threatened him is pathetic. Five grabbed the phone, immediately busying himself.
The phone is an unfamiliar brand. The interface is decipherable but is clearly not an iOS or Android.
He opens the browser, aware of the clerk craning his neck to see what he’s doing.
“Hey! Don’t go snooping around.”
“Oh, please, I have no interest in finding out your porn collection.”
The guy spluttered, “That’s not-“
Five moved to sit himself in one of the booths. He looked at the recent news.
Gotham City Council to conduct city-wide safety and health evaluation for workplaces
Batman Inc. strikes again!: Riddler defeated by his own games
Joker escapes Arkham Asylum: 10 Steps to Avoid Being Clown Fodder
Wayne Enterprise owned labs discover new compound to counteract Joker laugh gas
On and on it goes. News for the fictional Gotham City. Riddled with insane super villains and costumed superheroes. All in detail, as if the world is reality. Diving deeper to the web he finds Metropolis, Superman’s city. He dug further and found the Flash, Green Lantern, an entire official Justice League website.
He searched for his famous sister’s Wikipedia page and was shocked when he was greeted with a Wiki page about her from a TV show, the Umbrella Academy. In it, a detailed recollection of his sister’s life is displayed. More disconcerting though, is the page about himself. Eerie detail about his life is summarized into neat paragraphs.
Five came to the conclusion that this is either an elaborate fast-food chain concept or something else entirely. Something that he doesn’t want to be true.
A notification pops with a loud ping. The Batwatch app, it says, “Criminal vs Bats fight on-going in Gerard Street, East End”.
“What? That’s this street!” Gary said from where he’d sneak up behind Five.
He didn’t offer a reaction to the unexpected proximity. He needs to process this. His world is spinning in one direction and his head the other direction. Nothing makes sense.
There is no way this is real.
Gary, took offence to that, “What on Earth are ya’ on about? Of course, this is real! This is Gotham we’re talkin’ about! We’ve got to take cover.” The clerk gripped his arm and dragged him behind the cashier barrier.
In a distance, he hears a crash followed by car alarms blaring.
“Shit, kid. We should hide. Get out of the bats’ way,” Jerry busies himself with the panic room hidden under one of the store tiles, his hands shook as he unlocks the hatch.
Darararararara Darararararara BATMAN!
“Kid?!”
“Robin to Oracle. I am in need of assistance. It seems that I have underestimated the partnership between Condiment King and Kite Man. For a pair of nemesis, they have unexpectedly good teamwork,” Damian drawls, avoiding the anaphylactic ketchup assault from the sky.
He swings between buildings, twisting his body as poisonous mustard shoots past him. Unfortunately, the mustard distracted him from another attack, milliseconds from the first one. Kite-Man’s sharp gadget whistled over his head, severing his line.
Damian’s eyes widened; he is now in a free fall. He had seconds to assess his situation, finding nothing before his back hit a parked car, denting the hood, cracking the front glass, and knocking the breath out of him.
Damian felt that. He groaned as pain laced up his back.
Being in this open position is like asking for another attack, he forced his body to roll and take cover behind the car. Collecting himself. Something wet and warm is spilling at the back of his head. He touched it, not surprised to find blood.
Sighing, he pressed a hand to his in-ear piece, “Oracle. Anytime now.”
Above, he can hear Kite Man lording over cutting his zip line in mid-air. Loud enough for the entire block to hear him.
“Sorry, Robin. Everyone’s a bit occupied, but Red Hood is finishing up on his end. ETA, 40 minutes.”
“Tt.”
He closed his eyes and took deep breaths to clear his woozy head, focusing his mind on the fight.
As he gets ready to go back out, a voice startled him, “Need help?”
Damian startled. A childish yelp almost leaving him. On instinct, he threw a birdarang in the direction of the voice. The stranger dodged it with no effort.
A boy with a domino mask and school uniform he’s unfamiliar with, looking like he’s around his age, is crouched beside him.
Damian scowls, “Who are you? Another wannabee vigilante?”
The boy raised an eyebrow and shrugged, “Sure, you can say that.”
He narrows his eyes suspiciously at the newcomer, “How did you find me?”
“Kind of hard not to,” the boy looks pointedly at the nutjobs flying over the street, spraying unfortunate civilians with dangerous condiments.
“Fair.”
Damian feels he is in the presence of a kindred spirit, especially when the boy asked, “Kill or no kill?”
He answered unfazed, “No killing. What should I call you?”
“Five.”
“The number five?” Unusual but not the most bizzare alias he’s encountered.
“Yes,” Five replied, irritated, “now are we doing this or what?”
Damian rolls his eyes underneath the mask. A habit he picked up from Jon.
“I will ground Kite Man while you wrestle Condiment King?”
The other scoffed, “Leaving the dirty work to me?”
Damian smirks, “You offered.” Five hums, flashing him a mocking smile in return.
“At least give me something,” the newcomer demanded. The stranger must think he is a fool if he thinks Damian is going to give him any weapons. He tossed a length of rope, earning an unimpressed look.
Damian shot a grappling hook to the rooftop closest to the flying duo. Hiding behind an A/C unit. He heard the boy rummaging through the alley.
“Hey, mustard-man! I wanna ask, did you drown in ketchup or were you bitten by a mayo mosquito?”
Predictably, the short-tempered Condiment King whipped around from where he is suspended in mid-air by one of Kite-Man’s gadget. His moving around causes Kite-Man to lose his precarious balance. Swaying them and making them descent.
“Hey, stop moving!”
“I heard a brat insulting me!”
Damian commends the newcomer. He shoots his grappling hook, Kite-Man dodging as he expected. Instead of embedding in his guts, the hook tangled in the kite support skeleton instead.
“Uh-oh,” the two supervillains said at the same time.
Damian used the heavy A/C unit as a lever to reel the overweighted kite closer to the ground.
“Cut the rope!”
“I’m trying-”
“Well, try harder!”
“It’s not easy with you fucking about!”
The two quarrels as Damian pulls in the grappling rope. Pulling them closer to the rooftop. When they’re within distance, Damian throws a birdarang to severe the rope holding Condiment King in mid-air. He fell down a good distance, about the distance Damian fell. He snickers internally, serves him right.
Damian wasted no time; he ran up the rope tethering Kite-Man to the A/C unit. Finding pleasure in the panicked villain’s attempt to cut the titanium enforced cable. Damian doesn’t make the same mistake twice. It’s expensive, but his father can afford it. He leaped, straddled the man, and promptly knock him out with a hit to the head.
He went through the villain catching routine and when the villain is effectively zip-tied and disarmed, Damian made a hole in the reinforced kite. They quickly lose altitude, but Damian jumped down before hitting the building.
Kite-Man dangles beside the building, unconscious.
“Took you long enough,” Five said, Condiment King passed out and tied-up underneath his foot. Five is tugging on the rope to tighten it.
Examining his surroundings, Damian sees virtually no condiments spilled. He concluded that the boy was effective enough that Condiment King didn’t have a chance to fight back.
Damian nods once and crosses his arms, “Adequate job.”
“High praise,” he snarks in reply.
Damian pressed on his in-ear, “Robin to Oracle. The situation has been neutralized. Kite-Man and Condiment King are apprehended and waiting for pick-up.”
“O-kay? How did you-? Never mind, GPD is on the way. Good job, Robin. We can handle the rest.”
Damian huffs and directs his attention to the second problem he has on hand, “Your help is appreciated. I suppose there is something you want in return?”
The boy sighed. For a second, Five looked like he is decades older, “I know this is going to sound crazy.”
“Try me.”
“I don’t think I am from this universe.”
Damian is not even a little bit surprised, “Yes. And?”
The other doesn’t seem fazed either, “In my universe, Batman is a comic book character.”
Damian is suspicious of his motives and abilities but so far Five has not given him any reason to think he has bad intentions. Quite the opposite, he seems familiar with vigilante work. “How do I know I can trust you?” he finally says.
Five looks to be contemplating something. The boy took off the domino mask and pockets it with no pre-amble. Damian’s eyes widen a fraction. “I have no secret identity to protect anyways. Just thought I’d fit the uniform,” he gestures to Damian’s own getup.
Damian then realizes that with the combination of black hair and blue eyes and how similar looking he is to the rest of his family. He fits right in.
“How did you get here?
“I have powers allowing me to move through spatial and temporal space outside of normal human capabilities. Some lunatics were shooting at me,” Five reminisces, “I tried to teleport to escape but well – my powers have always been unpredictable. Somehow, I ended up jumping to another universe entirely.”
Damian ruminates on this new piece of information.
“Prove it.”
Five clenches his fist and tenses. Around his fists, space warps. Blue energy sputtering out in visible vibrations. Then, it stops. “I’m out of juice,” the boy hissed, frustrated.
“Tt.” What is it super-powered people and their incompetence in using their gifts?
“Oracle. Can you scan for spatial or temporal anomaly in my perimeter in the past hour?”
“Robin? Yeah, sure. What for?” He didn’t entertain the question with a reply.
“Uh. There are two anomalies recorded in the last … hour. One large spike and a smaller one more recently. Robin, is everything ok?”
“Everything is fine.”
“Robin, what is-,“ Damian switched off the earpiece.
Everything Five has been saying checks out so far. If all he wants is to go back to his universe, Damian supposes there is no harm in helping.
“What do you require?” he asks.
“Thanks. I need a place to stay and some pen and paper. I can figure my way out of this.”
A place to stay. Damian thought about it, “Follow me.”
The safehouse emerged after convoluted turns and climbs. The multiversally displaced former assassin thinks that this attempt to make him confused is futile. Though he must commend the small vigilante for trying.
Robin went up the fire escape and unlock the window. Five noticed the back of his head is clumped with blood. The boy must be feeling woozy right about now. Robin jumped in, nearly losing his balance.
Five, still crouched on the windowsill, got smacked on the face by the dusty curtain. He sneezed as he jumped in.
Looking around the room, he noticed that only the barest necessities are present. A vanity desk, a chair, an open wooden wardrobe, and a rickety bed with one pillow is stuffed into the claustrophobic 14 m2 en-suite room.
“I used to watch Batman with my siblings, so I know things that people from this universe wouldn’t normally know,” he starts with no pre-amble, “like Batman’s secret identity, for example.”
The vigilante stiffens.
“I am not going to do anything with the information,” he quickly amends. “I just… what are you doing out there on your own? Aren’t you a … package deal?”
He opens drawers underneath the table, pulling out a first aid kit. “I’m assuming you meant Batman and Robin, then yes, we are.”
Five was about to ask more but he noted the dismissive tone. Instead, he decides to inspect the wound at the back of Robin’s head.
“It seems like the wound is just a surface level laceration.”
The boy nods and takes his gloves off and was about to dress his wounds himself.
Five slapped his hand off his wounds. “I’m sure you have done this on your own before, but let’s not put sepsis on the list of problems right now.”
Robin huffs and rests his chin on his palm. Letting the other do the work. Five is surprised by how quick the other was to concede.
As Five works at cleaning the wound, the boy not wincing or making sounds, he felt his eyes boring into his skull. Five is expecting a question to be asked right about now.
“Are you a superhero in your universe?” the vigilante finally enquired.
Five wraps the final bandage around Robin’s head. “We were… intended to be superheroes.”
“So, you are currently not?”
Five thought about it. They don’t exist in each other’s universe. Nothing they say has a real impact to each other’s life. There’s no harm in talking to this person.
“Let’s just say that I do morally questionable work and leave it at that.”
“You kill people,” the vigilante concludes.
Five quietens. He supposes that it’s not too hard to figure that out. But there is no logic to how this boy came to that conclusion. Except.
“I’ve killed people too.”
He meets the vigilante’s gaze in the mirror. “I thought Batman doesn’t kill.”
“He doesn’t,” he quickly defended.
“Aren’t you his Robin? The Boy Wonder? You’re actually grumpier than I remember.” Five moved to wash his blood-stained hands in the dinghy bathroom.
“You are remembering another Robin. The first one.”
“Hm,” Five acknowledges. “How many has there been since the first one?”
“I’m the fifth."
“Did they die?” Five flaps his hand to dry his hands.
“No, they… rebranded.”
Five finds the vigilante has moved to sit on the chair backwards, chin resting on the back of the chair. Eyes tracking Five’s every movement. Five moved to sit on the bed. His weight causing the thin layer of dust to float up. He fights the urge to sneeze.
A thought occurred to Five, “Hey, isn’t Batman your… parental figure? Like the first Robin’s?”
“… You can say that.”
“The previous Robins, are your siblings, aren’t they?”
“… That wouldn’t be entirely incorrect.”
He snorts, “I know a thing or two about having siblings.”
“Irritating, dysfunctional, and incompetent?”
“All that, and more.”
Silence reign.
Five wants to ask Robin more personal question. Like his own family, it looks like they’re a family of vigilantes. Possibly with a eccentric and distant father if his outdated knowledge of Batman is correct. With the similarities being so uncanny, Five has a niggling feeling it played apart on transporting him here out of all places.
Meanwhile, Damian wants to ask more about Five’s world. He is not familiar with the recent pop culture not introduced by his circle of people. If his life is a fictional universe in his, is Five a fiction in Damian’s? Damian’s never encountered a multiverse where they are mere fiction.
Neither, felt like it is appropriate to ask, with the strangeness of the situation and the distance between them for having just met.
Reluctantly, they felt like they both had nothing to lose. If this stranger is a momentary fixture in each of their lives, what have they got to lose by acting a little out of character?
At the same moment they looked at each other, mouths open to speak.
Five smirked, “You go first.”
A scowl forms on Damian’s face. Feeling like he was one-upped.
“I have been in contact with a number of multiverses. All of them have run parallel with this one. Differences in small factors branching to similar, but a disparate universe,” Damian asks, “How is yours so different?”
“Well. If you want my professional analysis, branching of timelines at an earlier point of time would be capable of creating an entirely different universe. Life is full of probabilities and even at a 99.99% chance of something happening, there is still a 0.01% that it will not happen, vice versa. Maybe a radioactive meteorite missed the Earth or maybe a merchant made the wrong deal in the 1600s, such happenings would alter the trajectory of a universe’s development. Our world may be so different that your existence is … inexistent.”
Damian puzzled over the explanation, “Then, how is it that I ‘exist’ in your universe as a fictional character?”
“Well. I have yet to prove this theory myself,” he shrugs, “but I postulate that some individuals are interconnected with more than one timeline. It is quite possible that individuals with strong connections to the multiverse is capable of ‘peering’ into other universes.”
Damian nods in acknowledgement. He supposes that makes sense. In a way that almost doesn’t make sense. He didn’t feel the need to know the specifics.
“Is there anything you’d like to ask me then?”
Five starts immediately, “This might be an uncomfortable question for you. But I’d like to ask anyways.” He fell on his back, causing more dust on the bed to poof up, raining back down on him, making him cough.
Damian shifts where he sat.
“How would you best describe yourself?”
Damian’s face fell flat, “What is this, a job interview?”
“Sure.”
Damian doesn’t know where to start. He’s the son of Batman, the Dark Knight vigilante, Bruce Wayne’s son, the grandson of Ra’s ah-Ghul the demon reincarnated. His identity has been defined by his connection with these people.
Who is he without them?
Damian Wayne? Robin? Ibn al’Xuffasch?
People told him he’s arrogant, asocial, intelligent, terrifying, intense, capable, blood-thirsty, cold, and methodical.
But in the deepest darkest recesses of himself, a part of himself he denies the most, Damian desires to be free. Free to care for the people he loves and express his feelings. Free to be soft and emotional, but also forceful and composed.
Like the character in that movie Damian was forced to watch with Grayson. High School Musical, he believed it’s called. Despite its mind-numbing plot and ridiculously idiotic characters, there are moments he resonated with.
Five took pity upon seeing the conflicted look on the other’s face.
“Fine. You said you killed people before, why?”
That, Damian can answer. “I was taught to. For a large part of my life, violence and death are the only things I know.”
“Did you want to?”
“… I was led to believe that it was the only way to resolve any problem.”
Five scoffs, “Yeah, tell me about it.”
Damian tilts his head to rest on top of his folded arms. “I assume you have similar predicaments?”
“Yeah.”
“A family of assassins?”
“Eh no, vigilantes. And then an organization of time-travelling assassins.”
Damian replied in a toneless voice, “What? No way.”
A wicked half-smile formed on Five’s face. Damian snorts. They snickered. Neither feeling like they had any pretense to uphold.
They settled into comfortable silence.
Damian doesn’t know the protocol here. Does he stay the rest of the night here or does he leave Five alone? Leaving him doesn’t sound like a good idea, but he can’t stay the entire time without alerting the others.
Actually…
He might be able to do that. He disappeared enough times. There is no doubt that he is being tracked right now too. Perhaps, after finding that he is currently in safehouse, they have decided to leave him alone.
Nonetheless. “How exactly are you going back?”
Five didn’t respond. His mind had since been occupied with theories on how to get back home. Trying to make sense of the impossibility that just occurred hours earlier.
Five was hit by a thought. He and Damian is uncannily similar.
He shot up from the bed.
From Damian’s knowledge of multiverses, Five extracted the fact that universes cluster together depending on their similarities. There is a Prime universe where the other universes branch out. That’s why Damian have only met versions of universes closely related to the universe he is in.
If similarities bring universes together, perhaps, individuals with high similarities have higher probability of being connected to one another. That’s why, out of all the universes out there, he is transported to this one. Their past, their looks, their ideation is intertwined.
They’re the same concept put in different universes and given different circumstances and personality.
“That may be the reason why I teleported here,” Five mumbled, fingers clasping his chin.
Damian, a character with a remarkable number of similarities to him, was caught in a distressing situation. Just like he was in a distressing situation himself. A cumulative score of similarities made it easier for him to accidentally open a rift to this universe.
After all, his power has always been governed by manipulating probabilities to a degree. Space and time are the very fabric of the universe, it makes sense that Five wouldn’t be able to control it 100% of the time.
If he is right, then the way he is going back is not as impossible as he initially believed!
“Son of a bitch, that’s it!!”
Damian made an inquisitive sound.
“Don’t you feel it too? The unexplainable connection we have with each other. Would you have trusted a random stranger who appeared out of nowhere to dress your wounds? Bare the details of your life?”
“Of course not.”
“But you did! We did!”
Damian thought about it.
“I suppose it is odd.”
“It is! That’s because subconsciously, we know how similar we are. The universe knows how similar we are!”
Damian made a face. “How does the universe know we are similar?”
Five is frantically patting himself down before giving up and directing his manic search to Damian, “A marker. Give me a marker!”
Usually, Damian hates to be ordered about. Then again, nothing about his life is ‘usual’.
The walls of safehouse #27 are now decorated with equations too advanced even for Damian.
Light is starting to bleed through the curtains. Five has been up all-night writing down the equation necessary to take him home. Damian didn’t catch a wink either, too intrigued with finding something he didn’t understand.
Somewhere along the way they find more and more similarities between them. Rich family and emotionally constipated billionaire daddies. Incredibly idiotic siblings (that they love but will never admit at gunpoint). Thirteen years old (at least physically). Burdened with saving the world. Absolutely shit mental health.
Conversation between them is stilted, like newborn deers learning to walk for the first time. But there’s a sort of understanding which makes the interaction flow without awkward moments.
Five was surprisingly patient with explaining his process and answering Damian’s constant stream of questions. Even more surprisingly, Damian barely reacted to Five’s casual condescending remarks and demands for a new marker.
Before they know it, Five is at the last empty space at the corner of the room, right beside the socket. He tossed the marker, stood up, and rubbed his palms together. With his hair a mess, eyebags from nights of no sleep, and a manic look in his eyes, he looked every bit of a crazy old man he is mentally.
“Alright D-Man, hit me with your best shot,” he said as he held out a palm to him.
Damian fished an energy bar from his utility belt and handed it to him without a word. Five scarfed it down in seconds.
Damian held back a yawn. “Don’t forget about that equation over there.”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it. Thanks.”
He is at the state of sleep deprivation where nothing has consequences, and his energy is dialed to 200%.
Five gathered his strength and directed it to his hands. Blue ripples start and he concentrates. Modulating his powers to create the exact type of frequency and modulation to rip another rift in space to take him back to the exact parallel time, but in different space and universe.
As the portal widens, the air in the small stirs. Blowing the pillow and duvet off the bed. Damian shields his face but continues to watch in interest as the portal widens.
“If my calculations are correct, this time around. I should be able to …” Five stopped using his power and the portal stayed open. The blowing wind slows down. Light breeze remains, sweeping Damian’s cape.
The technically-older-boy turns to the yawning hero, “This has been … cathartic.”
“Agreed.”
They stood there. Unsure how to proceed.
Damian thrusts an arm out before he could overthink it. Five looked at it. Awkwardly extending his own arm to grasp the other’s.
“I wish you luck.”
“You too.”
Five disappeared into the portal and blipped out of existence.
Damian slips into his room when the sun is up in the sky.
He peels off the costume, tossing them carelessly with lazy limbs, and passing out face first on his bed. What a day, was his last thought before falling to a deep slumber.
In what feels like 10 minutes later, he’s woken up by a gentle knock on his door.
Pennyworth.
He slowly opens his eyes.
“Master Damian, I trust that you are awake now. Breakfast is ready.”
Damian hummed loudly to confirm he heard.
He looked at himself the mirror. The bandage still wrapped around his head, reminding him that last night wasn’t just a dream.
He met Five Hargreeves. A character from another universe who is apparently renditioned as a fictional comic and TV show in this universe.
He spits the toothpaste out and gargled water to wash his mouth. Carefully, he takes off the soiled bandage. Parts of it sticking to some damp spots. He winced and stares at the mirror in disdain. He hates dealing with head injuries. They are difficult to hide, but as the saying goes, ‘you gotta do what you gotta do.’
After cleaning the wound and rebandaging them, Damian opened a drawer where a collection of prosthetics and wig is neatly organized. He grabbed a wig and wring them out. Checking for tears.
He took a cap and carefully put it over his head. The color matching his skin perfectly. He flips the wig and fastens it with glue. Making sure no edges are visible.
Checking himself in the mirror, he notes to himself to deal with the injury promptly.
A few minutes later, Damian makes his way to the dining room. Following the heavenly breakfast smell.
Standing at the doorway, he observed the collection of misfits in the room he calls his family. They’re scattered about. All in different states of awareness. But everyone is here. A rare occurrence.
What would you do if you only have a week before the world ends?
Damian clenches and unclenches his hands. In their sleep deprived state, he and Five may have gone a little deep on the questions. Five told him of the difficulty of getting his sibling to band together and save themselves. How desperate he is to save his family. Damian has listened raptly. Relating Five’s situation with his own.
The vigilante isn’t a stranger to world-ending threats. He will never know when the last time they can gather will be. For all he knows, today may be their last.
He thought about it and he made up his mind.
He can afford deviating from the script every now and then, can he?
“I have an announcement to make,” Damian stated in the voice he uses to demand attention. All movements cease. “You are all invited for a movie night at 12 PM tonight after patrols. We are watching a show in the cinema room.”
Gordon dropped the bread she’s buttering.
“What are we watching?” Grayson asked, not missing a beat.
Damn, he didn’t think of that. “The Umbrella Academy,” he blurted, “I heard it is intriguing.”
Brown choked on her waffles, “You mean the show about a family of former child heroes reuniting to save the world?”
“Yes.” Damian didn’t elaborate. He heard Brown whisper to Cain, “A little bit cliché don’t you think?”
“Why?” Thomas asked, suspicious.
“Because I would like to,” Damian paused. He considers it. Continuing his sentence. I would like to spend time with you in case the world ends tomorrow. It sounds silly, childish, and out of character. He’s filled his quota for vulnerability today, so he decides to stop there.
He grabs a toast, downs a glass of green juice, and shrugs on his school bag. Without looking back, he booked it out of there to the helicopter waiting for him at the lawn.
If he stayed a little bit longer, he would have seen Drake looking dumbfounded. Hissing as he dropped his coffee mug because he overfilled it. He shook his hand, wincing and hissing.
His father with a small smile sipping his coffee, eyes glued on the newspaper. Rereading the same sentence over and over, thinking about how proud he is of his son’s development.
And Todd, mouth full of chewed pancake, asking, “Did I just hallucinate all that?”
Five stepped back in the department store. The sky is the same shade as the universe he just left. He looked down to find Dolores waiting for him. He picked her up carefully.
“Sorry for the wait.”
Five decides his siblings are still worth all the trouble after all. He forms a plan. If they won’t come together to prevent the apocalypse, then Five will do it himself.