The world ends in eight days, Reginald Hargreeves is dead, and Quinn can no longer hear Five's thoughts. And as if funerals, attempted murders, and homicide accusations weren't enough, Quinn Hargreeves has just woken up for the first time in sixteen years.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Umbrella Academy or any character except for Quinn!

Chapter title is from Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

Hear No Evil

I'm Waking Up (I Feel It In My Bones)

I don't think she's gone, though. I think that she's still with Five. And with us, too, but too split to wake up with either. But I used to believe that maybe if we ever got Five back, Quinn would come back too. -Vanya Hargreeves, Extra-Ordinary: My Life As Number Seven

When Quinn awoke, it wasn't gradual or peaceful or gentle. No, it was sudden and terrifying. She was alone in a dark room, surrounded by beeping machinery, and outside of the lone window, the sky glowed unnaturally blue - probably the reason that Luther had run off. She tried to stay calm, she really did, but everything was too bright and too loud and she was alone. So she did the only thing she could think of, what she'd been wanting to do for sixteen years.

She screamed.

She screamed as loud as she could, until she could see the water glass beside her bed start to shake. She screamed until she started to cough and then kept screaming. She screamed for all those times she couldn't scream, for sixteen voiceless years. She screamed until she fixed her connection with her twin, until she could feel his presence back inside her mind.

Her eyes clenched shut and hands covered her ears, she rocked back and forth and shook like she was trying to escape her own body, and she screamed. She screamed, and she screamed, and she screamed. The door flew open and slammed shut, and the six surviving Hargreeves piled into the room, and she kept screaming.

Her twin, her long lost brother, jumped onto her bed in a flash of blue, gently pulling her hands from her ears to hold in his own, and Quinn continued to scream. Luther, her strong supportive big brother, the only one who stayed, joined the twins on the bed, pulling her against his chest and holding her close, but she didn't stop screaming.

And then Five, who held her so close and so tight that they seemed to be as physically joined as they were mentally, leaned in. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head and cupped her cheeks in gentle hands, before bending his head to whisper in her ear.

"Wake up, Quinnie," he whispered, "I've got you."

His voice should have been lost under her screams, and, to their siblings, it was. But the twins had never communicated through voice alone, and Five thought as loudly as he could, pushing and pushing until he was sure that she could feel him in the back of her mind.

And, as suddenly as it had began, the screaming stopped. It didn't taper off, her voice didn't shake and fade out, she didn't slowly come around. One second she was screaming, and the next she had gone completely silent, eyes flashing pure white before she slumped against her brothers.

Intimately familiar with her spirals as he was, Five was prepared for it and caught her against his chest.

He tucked her head into the crook of his neck and ran a hand through her hair, content to hold her for a moment before gesturing for Luther to help him lay her back down in the bed. Gently, he smoothed out the hospital gown that had bunched around her legs before moving to sit at the edge of her bed and brushing his hand through her hair once more.

"She'll be fine," he told his siblings, not looking away from his twin, "she doesn't usually wake up when she spirals but she does always crash."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Diego demanded. "Spirals and crashes, and how would you even know? You haven't been here in years."

"I haven't been with you guys," he corrected tersely, "I'm always with Quinn. I've always been with Quinn," he added, "we share a mind. She could hear all of you, but she could actually talk to me. I spent almost fifty years sharing her thoughts, I know how this goes."

Luther opened his mouth to ask - well, he wasn't sure what he was going to ask, but it didn't matter because he never got the chance.

"Who undressed me?" a soft, scratchy voice asked from the bed. "It better have been Allison."

The room fell silent, aside from Luther choking on his breath, until Allison finally broke it.

"Quinn?" She whispered, disbelieving. "Holy shit."

And that was all it took for the silence to break. Suddenly the Hargreeves were all talking over each other, asking what had happened and what she remembered and if she was okay, until Five snapped at all of them.

"Shut the fuck up for a minute," he hissed, "she's been frozen for years, let her wake up properly before overwhelming her with your-" he gestured vaguely, but didn't get to finish his thought before his twin was knocking the air out of his lungs with a hug.

"Finn?" She breathed, tucking her face back into his neck, as if she were meant to be there - and in a way, she was.

"I'm back, Quinnie," he promised, neither of the twins noticing Luther rising from the bed in shock. "I'm here. I've got you."

"Is this real?" she asked, not hearing the way Vanya's breath hitched.

"It's real. I'm real. You're awake."

The smaller twin stayed curled up in her brother's arms for another minute before pulling away and, without so much as rising from the bed, threw herself into Luther's arms.

He caught her instinctively, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up with such familiarity that Quinn could almost forget that it had been sixteen years since he'd last done so.

The rest of the siblings fell quiet as they watched the reunion, all of them remembering the day that Quinn had frozen, how Luther had been the one to find her. They could still hear him screaming, could still see him carrying her down the hallway to the very room they occupied.

"I talked to you," Luther choked out, quieter than they'd ever heard him. "Every day for-"

"Sixteen years, four months, and fourteen days," Quinn finished, pressing her head to his chest, deliberately ignoring the way he stiffened at the added contact. "I know, I heard. You kept me from losing my mind, Luther." She fell silent for a moment, content to just feel the rise and fall of his chest, before speaking up again, quieter than before. "I'm sorry I wasn't there," she added.

"You - you know?" he sighed, just as quietly.

"I could hear you, Luther, of course I know." She felt him start to pull away, and hugged him tighter in return. "You're my big brother, Lu, I love you no matter what."

"I love you too, Quinnie," he told her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, "but I think there are a few other people who want to say hi."

Reluctantly, she released her tight grip and let him set her down. Unsurprisingly to Quinn - although shocking to their siblings - he put her down in front of Vanya.

The violinist shuffled from foot to foot, avoiding her sister's gaze until she was stumbling back from the force of Quinn's hug.

"Quinn, I… I'm sorry," she started, wrapping her arms around the girl.

"Don't be an idiot, Vanya, you're too smart for that. You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"But-"

"I heard about the milkshakes," Quinn interrupted.

"You did?"

"Luther told me. He read me your book, too. God, Van, of course I knew that you didn't hate me. I never thought you did, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you."

She was surprised to feel tears on the crown of her head, to realize that Vanya was crying just as much as she was. Until Luther had read her Vanya's book, it had never even occurred to her that Vanya might think that she hated her, let alone be so shocked to hear otherwise. She gave her sister one final squeeze before pulling away, stumbling into Allison's open arms.

"Hey, sweetie," Allison started, brushing Quinn's hair from her face. "Welcome back."

With startling clarity, Quinn was suddenly reminded of the fact that Allison was a mother; that she had a daughter who could only be a few years younger than she was. And, strange as it was to remember that her sister - her big sister with whom she shared a birth date - was a mother, it wasn't hard to believe. Not with the way Allison held her close, not with the way her careful hand subconsciously brushed through the tangles in Quinn's dark hair, not with the easy confidence with which she let go of the smaller girl to pass her to Diego. No, as she clung to her brother there wasn't the slightest doubt in Quinn's mind that her sister was now a mother.

She would have asked about it, she wanted to know everything about her niece, but before she could figure out where to start, strong arms wrapped around her and she found herself pressed up against a solid wall of muscles.

"'Ego," Quinn murmured into his soft turtleneck. "Missed you."

"I missed you too, Q," he assured her immediately, "every day."

"But you left," she said; an accusation, a condemnation, a plea. "You left me."

"I - Quinn… I couldn't stay. You know that."

"You left me," she repeated. "You all left me."

"Quinn," Luther interrupted, voice cracking for the first time since his teenage years.

"It's just a fact," she told him, not pulling away from Diego. "I know that Reginald sent you but you still left. Every single one of you left me alone here for years, do you have any idea what that's like? To be alone in this nightmare of a house?"

Her breaths were growing shorter, and tears formed in her eyes - she was about to spiral again and she knew it. But before she could, a warm hand was cupping the back of her neck, a thumb pressing firmly against her hairline in the same way that Diego had calmed her down since they were children practicing speech therapy together with Grace.

"I'm sorry, Q," he whispered, "I'm sorry, I'm here now."

"Until you all leave again," she scoffed, pulling away.

Klaus sighed dramatically, the familiarity bringing a small smile to Quinn's face.

"Why would you go and make her sad before I get a hug?" He whined, lifting her from behind.

He stumbled slightly - whether from the weight or drugs, no one knew - but spun her in a circle. By the time he set her town she was giggling, and he was quick to give her a proper hug.

"It's about time you woke up, Quinnie the Pooh," he teased, "but I've gotta say, you don't look-"

"A day over thirteen?" she retorted. "So you said."

"You heard that?" He asked, looking to the empty space behind him with a raised eyebrow.

"I heard everything, Klaus."

"Everything?" he echoed, and she nodded.

"So," Vanya coughed nervously. "Five? Where were - how are - what happened?"

"I went to the future," he shrugged. "It's shit, by the way."

"Called it," Klaus sang, though his siblings ignored him.

"How long were you there?"

"Forty five years," Quinn answered, not giving her brother the chance.

"How do you know that?" Luther asked, eyeing her warily.

"We share a brain, Luther," she said, "I was there just as much as I was here." She took a breath, looking around at her siblings. She was glad to see them, she really was, but she wasn't ready to talk about everything; she wasn't sure that she ever would be. "Anyways, I've been in this fucking gown for sixteen years, I'm going to change."

"I'll come with you," Klaus offered, holding out his arm.

She took it gladly, letting him lead the way to her childhood room - which looked identical to the last time she had been there.

She made her way to the closet while Klaus sat on the edge of the bed, both siblings falling silent. Instinctively, she pulled out one of her many uniforms, sliding the skirt up under the hospital gown as Klaus mimed covering his eyes.

"Klaus?" She said softly, looping the tie around her neck with ease.

"Que pasa, sister dearest?"

"Why didn't you tell us that you talk to Ben?" she asked, and Klaus choked on his breath.

"How did you know?" he asked shakily.

"You think so damn loudly, I heard you."

"Well," he coughed, "no one else believed that the Scéance could possibly talk to the dead brother, so I stopped mentioning it."

She nodded in understanding, sitting down next to him and leaning into his side.

"Can you… Can you tell him that I love him? And I miss him so fucking much."

"He's here, Quinn, he loves you too."

She followed his gaze to the corner of the room, despite the tears clouding her vision.

"Hi, Ben," she whispered. "I… I miss you so much, and I love you, and I'm sorry I wasn't there, and -"

"It's okay, Quinnie, he knows," Klaus interrupted, "and you have nothing to be sorry for."

Before either could say anything more, there was a flash of blue as Five joined them.

"Aww, look at you two matching," Klaus cooed.

Both twins rolled their eyes in sync, exchanging small grins.

"Let's go," Five said, as if Klaus had never spoken, "Luther wants to get on with the ceremony."

"And what daddy wants, daddy gets," Klaus agreed, making his way out of the door.

Quinn stood on shaky legs - still unused to standing, let alone walking - and in an instant Five was beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist to support her as he jumped them outside.

As soon as she saw her, Quinn was rushing into Grace's arms, breathing in the familiar scent of her "mother's" perfume.

"Good morning, darling," Grace hummed, "can I get you anything?"

"Thank you, mom, for everything," Quinn said, in lieu of an answer.

Grace smiled softly at her as she pulled away. Pogo approached the two, looking at Quinn in surprise.

"I'm glad to see you awake, Miss Quinn."

"Thanks for never giving up on me, Pogo," she said, hugging him quickly before Five was leading her to the middle of the courtyard to join their siblings.

The seven siblings stood together, with Grace and Pogo on the side, and Pogo handed Luther a jar of ashes.

"Whenever you're ready, dear boy."

Luther dumped out the jar, and the ashes fell to the ground in a heap.

Quinn had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing, especially when Luther spoke up.

"Probably would have been better with some wind."

Pogo, ever the expert at ignoring uncomfortable silences, stepped forward. "Does anyone wish to speak?" He asked.

The siblings all looked at each other, but no one said anything. What was there to say, really? There were no fond memories, no touching stories to share, and they all knew it.

"Very well," he continued. "In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master and my friend, and I shall miss him very much. He leaves behind a complicated legacy -"

"No," Quinn interrupted, voice still rough from sixteen years of silence. She forced herself to stand straight, although she made no effort to shake Five's arm from where he kept her upright. "I love you Pogo, but don't finish that fucking sentence. He was an abusive piece of shit and that's that. I know that you love him, Luther," she added, giving her big brother a soft, sad smile. "And you don't want to hear it, but everything we went through? Everything he did to us? It was abuse. We have never been anything but pawns to him, nothing but pieces on his chessboard. For twenty nine fucking years, our lives - win or lose, live or die - were his to control. We were literally just numbers to him, how powerful, how useful, how loyal we were to him. He build a fucking robot to raise us because he only cared when he could use us. And you know what?" she asked, turning to their father's ashes on the dirt. "Good fucking riddance."

Ignoring the shocked, horrified, and impressed looks from her siblings, Quinn spat on the ashes. And, having finally said what she'd been thinking for over sixteen years, she let herself slouch against Five, trusting that her twin would never let her fall.

"She's right," Diego said, "he was a monster."

She should have continued to listen, should have followed along as Diego and Luther argued, but Quinn found herself spacing out in Five's hold. It had been sixteen years, everything had changed and yet nothing seemed any different. But she was different, she knew what the future held, and she knew that there were more important things than childhood rivalries.

She barely noticed as Ben's statue hit the ground, barely remembered Five leading her back to her room. In fact, she barely remembered anything until Five was pulling away from her, and without realizing it, she tightened her hold on his arm - which she didn't remember grabbing.

"I'm sorry, Quinnie, I need to go."

"You're not leaving me," she told him firmly, "not again. Wherever you're going, I'm coming with you."

"Quinn -"

"Don't Quinnie me, Finn, I'm coming with you."

He sighed, but nodded, and in a flash of blue, they were gone.

When she opened her eyes, they were standing outside of Griddy's, and her heart swelled.

"Griddy's, Finn? Really?" she teased.

"I need an address," he insisted.

"Mhm, I'm sure," she drawled, "and I'm sure there's nowhere else in the world you could have found it."

He didn't offer her a response, and she smirked to herself. He may have been fifty-eight, he may have survived the apocalypse, and she may have been comatose for sixteen - or forty-five - years, but he was her twin brother and she had never once been fooled by him. No matter how standoffish he acted, no matter how hard he tried to seem unemotional, she knew better. And, as he claimed their old favourite seats at the counter, she knew that he still knew her too.

"Can I get you kids something?" Agnes asked - Quinn remembered her from their childhood, although clearly she didn't recognize them despite looking completely unchanged and still wearing their Academy uniforms. "A glass of milk?"

"The kid wants a coffee, black," Five snapped - clearly time had done nothing to quell his hatred of being patronized. "And an oreo milkshake for my sister."

"You - you remember?" Quinn asked, trying desperately to blink back tears.

"I'd never forget," he told her, linking their hands on the countertop.

She wasn't sure why she felt so overwhelmed by such a simple gesture, but the tears slid down her cheeks regardless. She wiped them away with the sleeve of her blazer, beaming as Agnes set down her milkshake.

"Jesus fuck I've missed these," she sighed, to which Five smiled fondly and squeezed her hand.

"We used to come here as kids," he explained to the man at the counter - who Quinn hadn't even noticed until her brother turned to him. "Used to sneak out with our brothers and sisters and eat donuts til we puked. Simpler times, huh?"

The man hummed noncommittally. "Eh, I suppose."

Agnes cleared her throat as she set down their cheque.

"Here," the man said, "I got this."

"Thanks," Quinn smiled, before turning back to her drink.

"You must know your way around the city," Five prompted, as Quinn pretended not to be paying attention - it was just like their first childhood, with Five - harsh, abrasive Five - demanding answers that he already knew while Quinn - sweet, unassuming Quinn - focused on their thoughts.

"I hope so," he said, "I've been driving it for twenty years."

"Good. I need an address," Five continued.

As Quinn listened, the late night trip started to make more sense. He was looking for a prosthetic - for the prosthetic, the eye that he'd found all those years ago, eight days away. The only clue he'd ever found on how to stop the apocalypse. The only clue he had, with only eight days to solve the puzzle. Her chest tightened, with two words running through her mind on a loop.

Eight days. Eight days. Eight days.

Five, sensing or maybe hearing her panic, squeezed her hand again and, as soon as the man left, turned to face her.

"Not just eight days," he told her, "I can hear you, Quinn. It's not eight days until the apocalypse -"

"Finn -"

"It's not," he repeated. "It's eight days until we stop the apocalypse."

She would have said more - wanted to say more - but was interrupted by the door chime. A quick glance at the reflection on the bell showed four men, all dressed in black and armed to the teeth.

"The commission," Five explained. "On my cue, far left with your tie."

Quinn squeezed his hand twice - she knew what to do. So she turned her focus back to sipping her milkshake, loosening her tie with a subtle hand, and looking to the world like nothing more than a young schoolgirl.

"That was fast," Five hummed, not turning to look at their attackers. "I thought I'd have more time before they found me."

Quinn continued to sip her milkshake, slowly pulling her tie from around her neck.

"Okay," the closest man said. "So let's all be professional about this, yeah? On your feet and come with us. They want to talk."

"I've got nothing to say," Five retorted.

"It doesn't have to go this way," the man said, aiming his gun at Quinn.

She felt her brother tense.

"You don't fucking touch her," he snapped.

"You think I want to shoot a kid?" the man asked, releasing the safety on his gun. "Go home with that on my conscience?"

"Well I wouldn't worry about that," Five said, voice tightening as he shifted in his seat. "You won't be going home."

Quinn took her cue, vaulting over the counter as her brother jumped behind the man who'd threatened her. She finished looping her tie into a noose, and took advantage of Five's distraction to jump on the man she'd been assigned. Her tie wrapped around his neck and it was easy, distressingly easy to pull it tighter and tighter until he went limp.

By the time she'd removed the noose, Five had finished with the other men and was - she blinked. And blinked again. And a third time.

"Finn?" She said finally, watching him set a bloody knife down on the counter and dig into his own arm.

"Gotta get rid of this," he shrugged, as if there was nothing unusual about ripping a tracker out of his own arm. "Can't have them threatening you again."

Quinn smiled despite herself; some things truly never changed, and it was comforting to know that his need to protect her was one of them. Still, she couldn't help but project her distress as she wrapped a cloth around his arm - their first aid supplies were all at the house, after all.

"Come on," he said suddenly, standing and making his way to the door.

"Where are we going?" She asked, taking his hand in hers.

"To get help."

And, without any further explanation, The Boy jumped them both. When Quinn opened her eyes, they were on an unfamiliar fire escape, and Five was picking the lock.

"Jesus!" she heard Vanya cry as he climbed through, Quinn right behind him.

"You should have locks on your windows," he told her.

"I live on the second floor," she argued, as Quinn disappeared down the hall to find herself a glass of water.

She found the kitchen with ease, grabbing a plastic cup and filling it with tap water. She downed it in seconds and poured herself another before slowly making her way back to her siblings.

"Why are you here, Five?" Vanya asked.

"Because the world ends in eight days," Quinn spoke from the doorway, "and we're going to stop it."

-Fin-

Well, shit. First of all, thank you everyone for such positive feedback on the last chapter! Quinn is such a fun character to write and I love getting to experiment with style in this fic. This chapter is a bit more traditional in it's writing but I would absolutely love to know if you guys have a preference for one style or the other or if you like a mix! It's super exciting to actually have Quinn awake and interacting with everyone, and I'm definitely hoping to get the next chapter out soon! As always, I hope you all enjoyed it, I'd love to hear any thoughts that you have on this chapter and this fic, and you're always welcome to talk to me on tumblr over at randomestfandoms-ocs!