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❛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙ. ʙ. ᴇꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛ. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚ ▎❛ 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 ❜ ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ꒱
❝ I CAN'T BELIEVE
YOU BURNED EGGS! ❞
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Alexa wanted to make a snack for her and Five. It was a while before dinner and Grace was busy cleaning so the twelve-year-old took it upon herself to try her hand at cooking. Their father was away for the weekend on a business trip with some Mayor or other which was the only reason Alexa felt comfortable to stretch the rules. It wasn't technically forbidden and after all, she'd seen her mother do it plenty of times, so how hard could it be?
Poking around in the kitchen for something to eat, Alexa found a bag of marshmallows, bread, eggs and peanut butter. It was a strange combination but she supposed that it was never too late to have a second breakfast. Taking a pan out of the cabinet, she placed it on the stove and carefully turned it on. Deciding that she'd passed the hard part without incident, Alexa turned away to crack the eggs in a bowl and made sure to keep their yokes whole— Five always said scrambled eggs were for babies so they'd be having them fried.
Placing the bread in the toaster, she turned it to medium brownness before she turned back to the pan. Remembering that Grace sprinkled water on the pan to make sure it was hot, Alexa did the same. When it sizzled, she slid the eggs onto the pan. As the toast popped up, Alexa carefully spread peanut butter on the bread and then, shrugging, she sprinkled marshmallows on top.
There was a flash of blue and Five was next to her, but the girl didn't jump as she was used to his sudden appearances. "What are you doing?" he asked.
Glancing at him, she answered, "making a snack."
His gaze travelled to the stove and he smirked. "Does the snack involve fire?"
Alexa gave him a confused look. "I'm using the stove, yes."
"Do you know how to use a stove?"
She scoffed. "Of course I do. I've seen Mom do it all the time."
Noticing the leftover shells on the counter, Five asked, "are the eggs supposed to be on fire?"
Whirling around, Alexa's eyes grew wide at the two-foot high flames that were rising from the pan, which caused the boy next to her to crack up with laughter. She glared at him furiously as her cheeks turned pink.
"I can't believe you burned eggs!"
"Well I'd like to see you do better."
They were interrupted by Grace entering the room since her programming had detected a hazard in the house. Seeing the flames, she expertly doused them before she turned to the two children. She could easily tell who the culprit was as one was still laughing. Alexa's eyes darted to the floor in embarrassment.
Giving her daughter a soft smile, Grace said, "it's alright, dear. Next time just ask me if you need something, alright?"
Alexa nodded mutely and her mother left the room. A few chuckles were still escaping Five's mouth, causing the blonde to hit him harshly on the arm. "Shut up!"
He grinned at her. "You're a horrible cook."
Tugging on her long blonde hair— a sure sign she was either quietly irritated or anxious—the girl bit her lip before she said softly, "I was trying to do something nice."
Noticing the change in her tone, the boy's expression softened slightly and he turned to look at the mostly empty plates. "There's still peanut butter and marshmallows."
Alexa shrugged sullenly. "Who cares?"
Five rolled his eyes before picking up the toast and taking a bite out of it. He made exaggerated eating noises in hopes of making her feel better— he did feel a bit bad for laughing at her, after all. The girl was stubborn, though, and didn't do so much as smile. However, it didn't take long for the taste really hit him and his eyes widened. "Lexa, you should try this!"
Still grumpy, Alexa picked up her own toast and took an angry bite out of it but her eyes widened as she did so. "You're right!"
"I think you're onto something. Everybody should try this!"
Her mood quickly evaporated and she smiled slyly. "Or it could just be. . . y'know, our thing?"
His eyes scanned over her expression for a moment. A small smile appeared on his own and he nodded, but then his smirk appeared again. "Just one thing Lexa."
Giving him a wary look, she asked, "what?"
"Promise you won't try cooking anymore?" He couldn't help grinning despite her hitting his arm harshly again but this time, she was smiling too.
☂☂☂
After much convincing and perhaps some wheedling, Alexa finally got Five to agree to spend the night at her apartment. She made him swear that he wouldn't spacial jump away the second she fell asleep— after all, even world-savers needed their rest. It was now morning and Alexa was at the stove with a soft smile on her face as she remembered the first time she'd tried cooking. At the sound of Five getting up (he'd slept on the couch) she glanced up. "Good morning, sleepyhead."
The comment caused him to look at her wide-eyed as he asked in a panicked tone, "what time is it?"
The blonde rolled her eyes. "It's just an expression, dummy. It's only seven."
"Why are you up this early then?" He was used to waking up early and not sleeping well but there was no reason for her to be up.
Giving him a look, she answered, "this is sleeping in for me too, y'know. I usually have to get up earlier for teaching."
Five walked over to the kitchen and his eyes landed on the stove. "I thought I told you not to cook?"
Rolling her eyes again, Alexa retorted, "and I don't remember promising that I wouldn't?"
She had him there, Five realized, so he changed the subject as he poured himself a cup of coffee that she'd made. "Teaching?"
"Uh, yeah. I became an art teacher," she said almost awkwardly.
The boy gave her a surprisingly soft— if not a bit guilty— smile as he raised the mug to his lips. She followed her future, he thought. If he'd been younger, there would've been a wistful follow-up thought about his own, but now he was just pleased that she'd done something with her life instead of moping around like Luther. But then, that was unfair— Alexa had always been more self-motivated than their brother.
Sliding the eggs onto their plates— which already had their snack on them— she handed him one as she said, "I know there wasn't much food in the apocalypse so I won't be offended if you don't eat it if it's too much, but I thought you might want something anyway. No one can live off of coffee alone, you know."
Nodding in thanks, they sat down at the table next to her kitchen and he was surprised to see that Dolores was already sitting in a spare chair. Alexa didn't say anything as he adjusted the mannequin to his liking but when he was done, she asked, "so what's next?" He gave her a clueless look— which was kind of cute, Alexa thought— before she quickly shook the idea away. "With saving the world," she clarified.
Five dropped his toast on the plate as his expression hardened. "There's nothing we can do. Our only lead is gone."
She'd forgotten how cynical he could be and his isolation had only made it worse. Huffing slightly in irritation, she put out her hand. "Can I see it?"
The glass of the eye was cool to the touch as she closed her fingers around it. Bringing it up to her own eyes, Alexa studied the flat brown iris. That's really creepy, she thought. Turning the pupil towards the boy across from her, she brought the prosthetic up to her own eye as if she were the one using it. "Hey— I have heterochromia!" Five gave her a look that said 'really?' and she quickly dropped her hand and turned the orb over to look at the serial number on the back.
"Where did you find this, anyway?" she asked. The boy sighed as his gaze dropped to the mostly uneaten breakfast in front of him. He really didn't want to tell her; that had been the hardest part of the whole apocalypse. When he hesitated, she gave him a firm look. "I'm a big girl, Five. I can handle it."
Forcing the words out, he explained: "Luther had it in his hand."
She gave him a confused look. "But you said—"
"I know what I said," he snapped, before he added more softly, "he probably pulled it out of the person right before he died."
Alexa sucked in a sharp breath. Oh my god, she thought. No wonder he loves a mannequin. She couldn't imagine how she'd react if she saw her whole family dead— she'd only seen one dead family member and that had been bad enough. Then, as it always did, the thought followed: Ben, I'm sorry. It's my fault. All mine.
Forcing herself to not think about that right now, she realized something else. But wait, that means— "What about me?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper. "I'm supposed to be invincible."
He didn't answer right away but when he met her eyes, his expression so desolate that it made a lump form in her throat. "You're not," he answered, matching her tone.
Tears pricked at her eyes and Alexa blinked furiously to hold them in. It wasn't like she'd seen her dead family and Five wasn't crying, so what right did that give her, anyway? She swallowed harshly against the lump in her throat and she reached out to gently grasp the boy's hand, half anticipating that he'd pull away. To her surprise, he didn't.
Five was remembering when he'd found his family in the rubble. It hadn't even occurred to him to be surprised about how much older they were— the shock of seeing them dead covered everything. After all, the last he'd seen of them was sitting at the dinner table with their only problems being saving the world and avoiding their father's wrath. Now, though, the world was destroyed and his siblings were dead. He'd stumbled towards where their bodies lay as he identified Luther first, then Allison, Klaus, and Diego.
A sudden hope had flared in his chest as he remembered his favorite invulnerable Umbrella Academy member. She'd had to have survived, right? he'd thought as he frantically searched for her. Maybe Alexa was just buried under the rubble and not actually hurt? A patch of blonde hair caught his attention and with his heart in his throat, Five lunged forward. His fingers brushed against the now-short golden strands. Yes! he'd thought, before he said frantically, "Lexa, I'm here, hold on— I'll get you out, I promise."
He'd desperately moved the large concrete blocks from her body and scraped his hands in the process, but he didn't care. After all, she was invulnerable only when she could breathe and he didn't know how long she'd been under there. Moving the last piece off of her, he finally looked down as his hopes sank in the same way young-Alexa's were in the time he'd left behind.
Five had fallen to his knees then and his mind blanked as he took in her still face. Her bright blue eyes dull and distant as she stared at nothing. He wouldn't even let himself have the foolish hope that she was sleeping; dead people looked nothing like that. They— she— was gone and never coming back. He realized she must've stretched her power too thinly across their family members which had left her nearly as vulnerable to attacks as a regular person.
A gentle touch jolted him back to the present and the same blue— vibrant— eyes watched him with concern. "Where'd you go?" she asked.
He shook his head, unwilling to share that much. Instead, he said, "let's go."
Alexa gave him a puzzled look. "Go?"
"We're doing a stakeout."
She sighed then, knowing from their childhood days that stakeouts were boring. "Let me get something to work on first."
Picking up Dolores and putting her in the stolen bag, he replied, "I'll meet you outside."