Five hadn't slept much in the last two days. Not a remarkably difficult or even worrying thing, in the face of what's happened. Hell, he isn't sure where he even spent the night, blinking back and forth between Boarding House and the crude graveyard and the beach, and the tree line, exhausting his power until he'd be forced to his knees, throwing up somewhere in a dark corner. Doesn't stop him for long, flitting in and out of space. Thinking and thinking and thinking back to the pictures and the dates and the creeping thoughts of enough, enough enough. When does this place fuck with them so completely that its too late to try and force his way into the time and space when they could get answers?

It feels hopeless, in a way and it isn't an unfamiliar feeling. But maybe with it comes the important, and dangerous question of what is there left to lose?

But it's sometime in the overcast day, when Five makes another round to the beach, and beelines to the graveyard that he sees the familiar, lanky shape of someone too familiar.

His breath stutters, catches in his throat and he hates that the first feeling that hits him is panic. Pure and simple but he clenches his fists and as soon as the faintest sounds of Klaus' voice hit his ears, he blinks forward.

Distance covered in a span of seconds and he's at Klaus's side, crouching in front of him, hand settling on his calf and jaw set and eyes sharp and clear and dark. "Welcome back," he croaks out. All he manages to say at all.