KATERINA AWOKE TO golden beams of sunlight sneaking through the curtains, painting the room in a warm, early morning glow. She blinked sleepily, disoriented for a moment as the events of the previous night came rushing back to her. The nap she had taken before her... interaction with Five had cleared most of the alcohol from her system, leaving her with a clear but somewhat foggy memory of their conversation. I've really got to stop drinking, she thought, wincing at the memory of her slurred words and unsteady steps.

She slowly pushed herself out of bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion clinging to her. Her eyes were puffy, shadows still lingering beneath them. Katerina reached for a navy long-sleeved shirt and black flared jeans, pulling them on with sluggish movements. She brushed her hair, tied it back into a loose ponytail, then splashed cold water on her face, hoping to wash away the remnants of sleep and the emotional weight from last night.

With her teeth brushed and face refreshed, she stood in front of the mirror, gathering the courage to walk down the hall to where Five's room was. As she stepped out, the soft murmur of voices floated down from the third floor, too faint to make out.

"Five?" she called out, her voice echoing slightly in the empty hallway.

No response. She shrugged, deciding to let it go for now, and made her way downstairs in search of something to eat.

When she reached the kitchen, she was greeted by a familiar sight—Allison sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in hand. But next to her was a man Katerina hadn't seen before, towering and muscular, with a somewhat bewildered expression on his face.

The man's broad shoulders and the odd look on his face made Katerina hesitate for a moment. Nearby, a blonde woman was flipping pancakes with unnervingly precise movements, her back turned to the rest of the room.

"Uh, morning," Katerina mumbled, still groggy and a bit confused as she greeted Allison.

Allison smiled warmly at her. "Morning, Katerina. How'd you sleep?"

"Alright, I guess," Katerina replied, rubbing her eyes as she sat down. The tall man beside Allison seemed to be studying her intently, and she could feel his eyes on her as she tried to shake off the remnants of sleep.

"So," the man began, his voice booming in the quiet kitchen, "who exactly are you? What are you doing here? Where are you from? Are you dangerous?"

Katerina blinked, taken aback by the barrage of questions. "I—uh—" She glanced at Allison, who looked equally surprised.

"This is Katerina," Allison interjected, trying to ease the awkwardness. "She's... a friend of Five's." The uncertainty in Allison's voice was evident, as if she wasn't quite sure how to categorize Katerina's presence.

Friend? Katerina thought, raising an eyebrow. That's one way to put it. She studied the man—Luther, she assumed—wondering how someone so physically imposing could be so... well, clueless. He looked like a giant puppy, eager and confused.

Deciding it was best to ignore his questions, Katerina poured herself a cup of coffee and took a slow sip, trying to make sense of the odd dynamics in the room.

Luther, seemingly satisfied for now, turned his attention back to Allison. "Mom?" he called out toward the blonde woman. "We need to ask you some questions about the night that Dad died. Do you remember anything?"

Katerina's ears perked up at this, her interest piqued. Dead father? she thought, her mind racing. Five didn't mention that.

The woman, who Katerina now realized was the "Mom" they were referring to, turned to face them with a robotic smile. "Of course. Sunset, 7:33 PM, the moon was waxing crescent, and dinner was Cornish hen..."

"No, no," Luther interrupted, a hint of frustration in his voice. "Later that night, in his bedroom. Did you go and see him?"

The woman's smile widened eerily as she replied, "I don't recall." She turned back to the stove, humming softly as she flipped the pancakes.

Katerina sipped her coffee, her mind buzzing with questions. Allison and Luther exchanged a series of tense glances and gestures, the unspoken communication of siblings who had been through this routine many times before.

Finally, Allison sighed, clearly not willing to let the matter drop. "Were you ever... I don't know, angry with Dad?" she asked, her tone careful.

The woman paused, the sound of the spatula scraping against the pan echoing through the room. "Your father was a good man," she said, her voice gentle. "A kind man. He was very good to me."

"Yes, but after we all left," Allison pressed, "it must have been difficult."

The woman's hands stilled, and her smile faded just slightly. "Oh, there were days," she admitted softly. "You kids kept me oh so busy, and then..." She trailed off, her expression unreadable.

"What?" Luther asked, leaning forward. "Mom, what were you going to say?"

But the woman didn't answer. Instead, she brightened suddenly and announced, "Pancakes are ready!" as if the previous conversation had never happened. She began placing plates in front of everyone, her smile as wide as ever. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Now eat up. You too, Katerina."

Katerina, still processing the strange exchange, stared at her plate, her appetite suddenly diminished. "How did you—" she began, but the woman cut her off.

"Five mentioned you when he came in last night," she said with a knowing smile, making Katerina pause.Allison and Luther exchanged another look, this one laden with unspoken thoughts, before they returned to their meal in uneasy silence.

"So," Katerina ventured, her voice low, "what's her deal? Is she, like, demented or something?"

"She's a robot," Luther replied matter-of-factly, not looking up from his food.

"Ohhh," Katerina nodded slowly. "That makes sense."

They finished eating in relative silence. When they were done, Luther and Allison hurried off, leaving Katerina alone in the kitchen. She pushed her plate aside and, after a moment's hesitation, made her way back upstairs.

As she walked down the hall, she noticed Five's bedroom door slightly ajar. Curious, she peered inside, only to find him sitting on the edge of his bed, suturing what looked like a bullet wound in his arm, most likely from last night's event that he didn't care to explain. His face was tight with concentration and pain, a frown etched deeply into his features.

Katerina hesitated for a moment, then slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside. Five glanced up, his expression unreadable as he acknowledged her presence.

"Morning," she greeted him, unsure of how to act after last night.

Five paused for a second, then returned to his task, his voice cold and detached. "Morning. Close the door behind you, will ya?"

Katerina complied, her eyes narrowing as she took in the poorly sutured wound. "Not exactly a masterpiece," she remarked, watching as Five's frown deepened.

"Are you here to help or just criticize?" he snapped, clearly annoyed.

"Maybe both," she shot back, crossing her arms as she studied the jagged stitches. "You're doing a pretty lousy job, you know."

Five didn't respond immediately, his hands moving deftly despite the pain. But there was a distance in his demeanor, a chill in his tone that Katerina hadn't expected.

After a few moments of silence, Katerina sighed and sat down beside him. "Let me help you with that," she offered, her voice softer now.

Five hesitated, his eyes flicking to hers, uncertainty written across his face. But eventually, he relented, allowing her to take over. Katerina gently rested her palm over the wound, closing her eyes as she concentrated.

Before Five could ask what she was doing, he felt a strange warmth spreading through his arm, the pain ebbing away. Katerina winced, her face contorting briefly as she absorbed his pain, but within seconds, the wound had closed, leaving only a faint scar.

Five stared at his arm in disbelief. "How did you—?"

Katerina smirked, quoting his own words back at him. "Just my supernatural freak perks."

Five's eyebrows shot up, his gaze shifting between her face and his now-healed arm. "That explains why you don't age."

"So... what are we doing today?" Katerina asked, trying to lighten the mood as she watched him get up and throw a white shirt over his tank top.

"There is no 'we,' Katerina," he replied sternly, avoiding her eyes as he buttoned his shirt. "I have some business to attend to."

Katerina rolled her eyes as he threw on a vest and began tying his tie with quick, practiced movements. "Come on, Five. I've got nothing better to do. Let me tag along."

He shot her a glare, but the resolve in her expression must have convinced him, because he huffed in exasperation and muttered, "Fine. But don't get in my way."

Katerina grinned as he grabbed the army bag from the corner of his room, the zipper slightly open. Her eyes caught a glimpse of something inside—a mannequin face staring back at her. She blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sight of the eerie, lifeless face peeking out from the bag.

"What, is that, like, a weird fetish of yours?" Katerina asked, her voice dripping with mockery as she pointed at the mannequin.

Five shot her a withering glare, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Shut up, I don't have time for this," he snapped, slinging the bag over his shoulder and heading for the window.

Katerina followed him, still smirking to herself as she watched him climb out onto the ledge.

Looking down, she spotted Klaus rummaging through a dumpster below, talking to himself like a deranged street prophet. He looked disheveled, his hair a wild mess, and his clothes stained with God-knows-what.

Katerina frowned, her expression one of mild disgust. "I'd ask what you're up to, Klaus, but then it occurred to me... I don't care," Five called down, already descending the ladder with practiced ease.

Klaus glanced up, his face lighting up as he saw them. "Hey!" he greeted, his voice cheerful despite his questionable activity. "You guys know there are easier ways out of the house, right?"

Katerina chuckled, then pointed at Five and made a cuckoo sign next to her head. Klaus let out a laugh, clearly amused.

"This one involved the least amount of talking," Five responded dryly as he reached the ground, "or so I thought."

Klaus leaned against the edge of the dumpster, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Hey, hey, so... you need any more company today? I could, uh, clear my schedule," he offered, raising his flask in a mock toast.

Five glanced at the flask, his expression one of deep disdain. "Looks like you've got your hands full," he replied sarcastically.

Katerina, still grinning, nudged Five with her elbow. "Come on, Five, let him come. Could be fun." Five shot her a glare so intense that if looks could kill, she'd be ashes. Klaus, sensing the tension, quickly jumped in. "Oh, this? No, no, I can do this whenever." He gestured vaguely at the dumpster. "I'm just—" He suddenly lost his balance and fell back into the trash, objects clattering loudly. "I just misplaced something, that's all!" he called out, his voice muffled by the garbage. A moment later, he emerged triumphantly, holding up a half-eaten donut. "Oh! Found it, thank God!"

Katerina wrinkled her nose in disgust as Klaus took a bite out of the stale donut, trying to look nonchalant. "Delicious!" he exclaimed, though his face twisted in revulsion as he chewed.

"I'm done funding your drug habit," Five said bitterly, already turning away. Katerina, unable to suppress a laugh, mouthed an apologetic "sorry" to Klaus, who responded by flipping her off with a forced grin.

"Come on, you don't—maybe I just wanna hang out with my brother!" Klaus called after them, desperation creeping into his voice. But they were already walking away, leaving him to his dumpster diving.

As they climbed into the van, the tension between them simmered just beneath the surface. Five gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white, while Katerina settled into the passenger seat, her mood dark and stormy. The silence between them was thick, almost suffocating, as Five started the engine.

Katerina fished a cigarette out of her pocket and lit it, the flicker of the flame briefly illuminating her face. She took a long drag, exhaling the smoke slowly, savoring the brief moment of calm it brought her. But that calm was shattered almost instantly.

Five's eyes flicked to her, narrowing with irritation. "Don't smoke in my van," he said, his voice flat, though it carried an edge of warning.

Katerina barely glanced at him, blowing another cloud of smoke. "It's just a cigarette, Five. Chill."

His jaw tightened, and without a word, he reached over, snatched the cigarette from her fingers, and tossed it out the window. The van filled with the sound of the window being rolled back up, the glass squeaking in its track.

"What the hell!" Katerina snapped, her eyes flashing with anger. "That was my cigarette, you asshole!"

Five didn't look at her, his focus back on the road as he pulled out of the driveway. "I told you not to smoke in my van. If you can't listen, that's your problem."

"Oh, so now you're dictating what I can and can't do?" Katerina shot back, her voice rising in pitch. "You've got some nerve, Five."

"I'm trying to focus on driving, not breathe in your secondhand smoke," he retorted, his tone cold and dismissive. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he pressed his foot harder on the accelerator, the van lurching forward as it sped up.

Katerina glared at him, her frustration boiling over. "Yeah, because you're such a saint, right? Like you haven't done a million worse things than smoke a damn cigarette."

Five's eyes darted to her, a flicker of anger flashing across his face. "Don't start with me, Katerina. I've got enough on my plate without you adding to it."

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh, right. Poor Five, always so burdened, always so busy with his mysterious 'business.' You know, maybe if you weren't such a control freak, you wouldn't be so stressed all the time."

"I'm not a control freak," Five snapped, his voice tinged with annoyance. "I'm just trying to keep everything from falling apart."

"Funny, because it seems like you're the one who's falling apart," Katerina shot back, her tone biting. "You're acting like a lunatic. One minute, you're about to kiss me, and the next, you're tossing my cigarettes out the window like some deranged hall monitor."

Five's eyes narrowed, pausing for a second while her words echoed in his head, his temper clearly fraying. "I'm not falling apart," he bit out. "I'm doing what needs to be done. Something you wouldn't understand."

Katerina's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "What I don't understand is why you think you're the only one who has to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Newsflash, Five, you're not alone. But you sure as hell act like it."

His grip on the wheel tightened even more, and the van swerved slightly as he lost focus for a split second. "I don't have time for this," he muttered under his breath, but Katerina wasn't about to let it go.

"Oh, don't you dare brush me off," she snapped. "You're the one who's making a big deal out of nothing! What's your problem, huh? What are you so afraid of?"

Five's eyes flicked to her, a dark storm brewing in his gaze. "You wouldn't understand," he said, his voice low and harsh.

"Try me," Katerina challenged, her tone sharp.

Five's jaw worked as if he was grinding his teeth, but he didn't answer. Instead, he pressed down harder on the gas pedal, sending the van careening down the road at a dangerous speed. Katerina was thrown back against her seat, her heart racing as they narrowly avoided clipping a parked car.

"Seriously? This is how you're going to deal with it?" she yelled, her fear mixing with anger. "By trying to get us both killed?"

Five didn't respond, his eyes locked on the road ahead, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. The van hurtled forward, and Katerina's breath caught in her throat as they took a sharp corner at breakneck speed.

"You're insane!" she shouted, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and fury. "Pull over before you get us both killed!"

But Five didn't slow down. Instead, he swerved into the parking lot of the lab, the tires screeching as he brought the van to a sudden, jarring stop. Katerina was thrown forward, the seatbelt biting into her chest as the van jerked to a halt.

"Here again?" Katerina huffed, her breath coming in short, angry bursts. "You are seriously demented, old man."

Five ignored her, his expression dark as he turned off the engine and settled into his seat. He reached into the backseat for the mannequin head, his movements jerky with suppressed anger.Katerina climbed out, slamming the door behind her, her body trembling with the adrenaline of the near-miss. She shot him a glare as he muttered to the mannequin, his words too quiet for her to hear.

"Where do you think you're going?" Five demanded, rolling down the window when he noticed her heading to the back of the van.

"To smoke, you little shit," Katerina snapped back, her voice thick with frustration. She leaned against the back of the van, her hands shaking as she lit another cigarette, trying to steady herself after the harrowing ride.

As she exhaled, her mind raced with questions. What the hell is his deal? she wondered, staring at the smoke as it curled into the air. Last night, he was almost... human. But now? Now, he's back to being an asshole. What is going on with him?

She thought back to the way he'd looked at her last night, the way his guard had dropped for just a moment. And then there was this morning—his coldness, his dismissal, the way he'd tried to push her away. It was like he was shutting her out, building up walls faster than she could tear them down.

Katerina took another drag, her thoughts a jumbled mess. Is he scared? Or is he just really that much of a control freak? She couldn't figure him out, and it was driving her crazy.

She turned to the corner of the van to glance at him, watching as he fiddled with the mannequin, his brow furrowed in concentration. The anger in her chest simmered, but beneath it was something else—a gnawing confusion, a nagging concern.

Why did he keep shutting her out? Why did he insist on doing everything alone? And why, despite everything, did she feel this inexplicable pull toward him? She took another drag of her cigarette, the smoke filling her lungs as she tried to sort through the mess of emotions swirling inside her. One thing was clear—she was in way over her head with this one.

But as she stood there, watching him, the anger slowly began to ebb away, replaced by something softer, something more complicated. She didn't understand him, not fully, but she knew one thing for sure—she wasn't ready to walk away from him, not yet. And that realization scared her more than any argument ever could.