𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 ━ five hargreeves³

III│INTERLUDE III: WHEN FIVE HELPED ALEXA

In an effort to take better stock of the situation, Five did a slow turn in the room to see if there was anything else that was out of place. Sure enough, the room wasn't as unchanged as he'd initially thought. He stared in shock at the very familiar Umbrella Academy door that sat in the middle of the bedroom.

He approached the door warily and did a careful inspection of it. It was a perfect mirror of the door that had haunted them throughout their childhood, complete with the black embossed umbrella on the clouded glass and the gold handle. Except. . . when he looked behind it, there was nothing there. The rest of the room was there, of course but the door didn't seem to. . . lead anywhere. He glanced back at the motionless girl on the bed.

More curious than he was willing to let on, Five tried the handle and it swung open with ease. In front of him was another perfect mirror, this time of the foyer of the Umbrella Academy. The spindly table still sat in the middle of the room, the sweeping grand staircase was at the far end; the white marble pillars were all familiar and there was an entrance to the left where the sitting room was.

He couldn't resist the urge to glance around the edge of the door again. Behind the glass, the room in Hotel Obsidian was still there. Through the doorframe was the too-familiar home of his childhood. He let out a tense breath. "This is too trippy."

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

Upon further study of the foyer, Five was able to determine that yes, this was the Umbrella Academy, just as it had been in their original 2019. His next venture was into the sitting room-and-bar area. This, too, was exactly the same: the same couch, the same furniture setup, the same table, the same antlers that where mounted on the marble fireplace.

The only difference was that this Academy wasn't lived in. There was an eerie, still feeling to it, similar to an empty church. When he moved, the air around him seemed to protest the change and it was noticeably chillier than the Academy was in real life. Five figured that he must have spent a good fifteen minutes inspecting the familiar-yet-not setting. It was only when his gaze turned to the fireplace against the opposite wall did he become suspicious again: the picture above the mantlepiece wasn't him.

After the last time the picture had changed, he immediately tensed. Five approached the mantel guardedly, as if he was expecting it to jump out at him. The boy paused for a moment as he realized that his previous observation was false: he was in the picture, except. . . Alexa was also there. They were both sitting on the couch that was directly next to him; the blonde was studying while he looked over her shoulder. Five frowned as he tried to recall any recollection of them sitting together like that so. . . openly, but found that he couldn't. His eyes narrowed at the painting.

Wanting to examine it further, he located a nearby ottoman and placed the puff underneath the mantel. Using the ledge as a balance, he stood on the ottoman as if it were a stool and leaned closer to the image.

"I didn't know you were going to paint me."

"I thought I needed to fuel your ego," the blonde commented mildly without looking up from the day's assigned schoolwork.

He leaned back against the cushions, crossing one leg over the other as he rested his hands on his head. "It's very good, you know. You've always been talented. There's only one problem."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"I'm not dead."

"Of course you're not!" she exclaimed, surprised. Then she lowered her voice: "I think I was just feeling the effects of— well, y'know," she finished lamely. "And I didn't want to see his face, I wanted to see yours."