It's been eleven months since the two of them had taken that stupid train to nowhere. Why they had let Five talk them into going with him, they had no idea. They had used to been friends before FIve got stuck in the apocalypse, and they trusted him, sure, but that didn’t mean they wanted to skip out on the real world forever and live in captive domesticity for the rest of their life. They wanted adventure and danger, which always seemed to follow Five wherever he went. But that’s not what this turned into. This had turned into playing house.

Those first couple of months weren't bad. They didn't mind being lost with no real way to get back home. It was new and exciting and they had been getting along great back then. He confided in them; told them he had asked them along because they were his only real friend and he didn’t want to face the unknown alone again. But now? Now, it was like they were living in some bad sitcom with no laugh track.

After nine months of mindless travel to various timelines that just seemed to get worse and worse, they were about ready to kill one another or themselves. The passive aggressive arguing had gradually turned into bickering, which then turned into outright screaming matches. They just wanted to go home, and they didn’t care that FIve said time travel was tricky or unpredictable. He had gotten them into this mess and they demanded that he get them out of it.

To get them to shut up, Five had presented them with a temporary solution. They bad come across a mostly still standing house with a greenhouse and clean water, he begrudgingly suggested that the two should stay there for a few days. Relax, wash up a bit, and gather some food. It would also grant him some time to think about how to navigate this situation the two were in. They had agreed, and had Five scope the crappy house out first to determine if there were separate living quarters. With only one real bedroom, Five conceded it to them and said he would take the living room couch.

A few days had turned into two months.