Diego and Luther scramble out of their frozen pose and move to their fallen brother. Diego reaches out to grip his arm as if he can somehow anchor him there.

"Hey, buddy," he says his voice low. Jesus, there's so much blood. On his chest, on his lips. "Hold on, okay? We'll get you some help."

He looks up and around for Five. "Five, can we tele-" but the words die on his lips. Five is sitting on the ground, his head in his hands. He's never seen him look so young or so defeated.

He feels as if he's been punched in the stomach, all the air leaving him at once. He looks back at Klaus, his expression darkening. "I swear to God, Klaus, if you die I'll find you and murder you again."

Luther puts a heavy hand on his shoulder and he refuses to look at him. He can already hear his sniffling. He shrugs off his hand, getting to his feet.

"We've got to be able to do something," he shouts, looking at the others. This isn't happening.