Five waited. He was good at it, had mastered having patience like a fine art even if he could barely sit still for a few minutes. Years of surviving and planning taught him endurance but also not to waste opportunities Now, he shifted his hand to entwine his fingers with Ben's own and let his brother accommodate to the world of the living. To the weight of Five's hand on his chest and the faint sounds of the city coming from the window. It was dark outside already, Five couldn't tell how long they had been passed out and then sleep.

"Okay." The answer was short but his whole body relaxed and Five let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Every time he shifted, the smallest movement made his muscles protest but he scooted a little closer. He wants to help, even if he doesn't know how, to make Ben feel more at home. He doesn't miss the irony of that fact, since he has been gone for four decades and homeless.

"We're home. Back to the day of Dad's funeral. I saw the ashes outside." It was the answer to a question Ben hadn't answered but it was written all over his face, so it wasn't hard to imagine Ben was confused. Then he nodded, dismissing the concerns about himself. "It's nothing. I had worse."