Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His power had limits.

Five had learned this long ago, his power had limits. There are only so many times he could jump through time and space within a certain period before he exhausted himself and his stamina. As he grew older, he had tried to push the boundaries of this gifts, to stretch them just a bit farther. But there was always a limit, a hard line that would prevent him from spanning through the cosmos that he had always so longed to do.

Now, stuck in his thirteen year old body, holding the hands of his siblings as the world comes to an end, Five wonders why it had to come to this-wonders why limits had to exist at all. Teleporting through time on his own accord had been disastrous, but teleporting a group of people along with him is a true gamble of the highest order.

But this gamble is the only option they've all got left.

He yells at them to hold on, that it’s going to get messy. He can already feel his body straining under the force of those ever pressing limits as he pushes himself to the brink. The glowing blue under his eyelids flashes violently, crackling with energy as a portal is opened. It couldn’t all be for nothing. All of those years in isolation, all of those lonely nights and haggard days. All of those evenings where he held a sniper rifle in his hands and wondered if it’d be better to turn the gun on himself instead. All of the times he fell and couldn’t get up for hours, clutching at his bloodied knees as a scared child, lost to a dead world.

The only thing that had kept him going was the small thread of hope that he could see his siblings once more.

To go home to Ben and Vanya. To talk late at night about literature, equations, and bad media with Ben. To be there during the times when his brother needed him, giving his sibling something to focus on by shoving quantum equations at him or complaining about the uselessness of his siblings during training sessions. To listen to Vanya shyly pluck out melodies on her violin late at night, to give her a rare smile and ask for another song. To go out and eat donuts with his siblings when they were all feeling mischievous and too awake to settle down for the night.

It wasn’t a great life, but it was his. It was the only thing he knew once upon a time, and the only thing he wanted back. While that might not be possible anymore, what he could do, was fix the future from turning into the apocalyptic nightmare that he had endured. He could bring them all back, and they could try and repair the broken shambles of what they call a family. They could all try and be happy.

His hands tighten around the people he’s connected with, squeezing his eyes shut as he throws everything he has into successfully warping them into the past. A strangled cry leaves his mouth unbidden, feeling his limbs ache with tension and his bones grind with the strain of his power. Energy flashes around them, illuminating the theatre eerily as the glass room shows pieces of the destroyed moon free falling towards the planet.

Five gives one last shout of effort, head falling back as the power flows through him before everything turns black. He has the strangest feeling of falling, weightless, as he continues to plummet. The only bit of consciousness he clings to wonders if he succeeded.

The blackness eventually warps into the smell of the outdoors and the earth beneath him. His chest flares in pain as he hits the ground, falling face down onto his forearms. Dry dirt rests under his fingernails, a swirl of crisp autumn wind. His body aches.

He feels like he’s been here before.

“Does anyone else see…little Number Five, or is that just me?” comes the bewildered voice of Klaus that echoes in his ears.

Five’s eyes shoot open in alarm. He has been here before.

Pushing past his weariness, Five forces himself into pushing off the ground and wobbling up onto his feet. He blankly glances at his hands, seeing that he’s wearing a suit meant for an adult which hangs off of him. It’s a familiar fabric, one he wore on his last day as a killer and an adult before he had traveled back in time to stop the apocalypse. His breathing increases in speed. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t where or when he was supposed to be.

Five looks up and sees all five of his siblings huddled together standing over him, looking like he had just fallen out of the sky. In a way he supposes, he did. The catch was they were all still adults, wearing the same outfits they had one when he had previously teleported back. There was no mention of the plan, of what had happened just moments before. They were all staring at him the exact same way they had when he had first appeared to them eight days prior.

In wondered disbelief.

“Shit.” He breathes in dismay.

“Five?” Vanya calls out hesitantly to him.

“Shit.” He repeats, staring at them all blankly. “This can’t be happening.” He whispers.

What the hell happened?

He wastes no time, plowing past all of them and making his way inside. Several exclamations of alarm and confusion follow him, the loud footsteps of his siblings dogging behind him as he makes his way into the kitchen. As routine, he angrily sets down the cutting board on the table, along with a knife, moving to snatch the bread off of the counter.

“What’s the date? The exact date.” He spews out angrily as the plucks two pieces of bread from the confines of plastic.

“The 24^th. Vanya replies to him, somewhat breathlessly as if she’s seeing a ghost.

“Of what?”

“March.”

He picks up the knife and angrily stabs it into the cutting board, creating a loud slam that echoes throughout the room. His siblings are silent. Everyone is silent. The room feels too silent. Five breathes deeply, grip white-knuckled on the knife before he releases it. He’s not hungry. He doesn’t want to eat. He unconsciously came over because this is what he had done the first time around when he came falling through that portal, following an old routine of childhood that had no real meaning.

His mind churns a mile a minute, trying to figure out what happened. Had he simply travelled back in time once more eight days before the apocalypse? How did that make sense? What happened to his siblings? Why hadn’t they been affected? Where had they gone if he had failed? This didn’t make any sense.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” He repeats out loud.

“Are we going to talk about what happened? You were gone for seventeen years, Five.” Luther says chidingly, as if Five had a choice in the matter, as if he had any idea what Five had gone through.

“I was gone a lot longer than that.” He mutters bitterly, the déjà vu clinging like a veil over his memories.

He looks to his siblings all huddled around the kitchen table, staring at him expectantly for answers. Resignation creeps into his stomach and stays there like a pit of poison, churning slowly like a sickness in his veins. He failed. What if this wasn’t even real? What if it was a product of his imagination all along?

He inhales, trying to think of something, anything that would give him a way to prove that the past eight days had indeed happened.

“Klaus?” he murmurs softly, drawing a raise of an eyebrow from the disastrous sibling.

“Yes, sweet child o’mine?” Klaus grins back, swinging the tassel of the skirt he was wearing as he sits cross-legged on the table.

“Does Ben happen to remember anything about what happened just now?” Five asks gravely, bracing his palms on the table.

Klaus stiffens in surprise and the other siblings all swallow down reactions of shock and awkward tension.

It’s Vanya who breaks the silence. “Five, I…Ben is…” she trails off with uncertainty, hesitant to speak about someone in the family who has departed.

“I know what happened. That’s not the question.” He retorts to her, glancing back to Klaus. “I need to know if he remembers what happened just moments ago. Does he remember the moon falling? The attempt to teleport?” Five presses adamantly.

Klaus awkwardly side eyes the open air, clearly looking at Ben’s ghost for answers that he himself doesn’t understand.

“Five, I don’t know what happened, but it’s clear that you’ve been through quite a journey. Maybe it’s best for now, if you get some rest.” Luther says as he stands, his figure looming over everyone with ease.

It feels condescending.

Five feels rage bubble to the surface and spill over immediately. He didn’t have time to explain everything that happened to Luther of all people. The man had a morality streak that ran so high that Five could touch the sky with it.

“Number One, I understand that you’ve been on the moon for years now, but I’ll let you know right now, that I am not a fucking child. I have the subconscious of a 58-year-old that has been unfortunately stuck with this thirteen-year-old body.” He grins and its all sharp with teeth, nothing pleasant about it.

“And while we’re at it, because last time you chided me about why I didn’t tell you anything sooner, how about I just tell you now!” Five rants, feeling all of the frustration lash out in waves.

Klaus is looking at him with genuine uncertainty, like he's unable to look away from a car crash in slow motion. The rest however, are all looking at him with various shades of caution and judgement. Vanya, the worst of all, her dark gaze concerned and pitying. He didn’t need anyone’s pity, especially not hers. Vanya who, he thought out of everyone, would have believed him on first explanation.

The worst part of this is that Five doesn’t even know if they’re wrong or not. Maybe he really is insane.

“When I jumped forward in time, I jumped into an apocalypse. There was nothing there, nothing. You, all of you, were dead. I spent my life struggling off of anything I could find just trying to survive and make my way back to you. The old man was right about one thing, time travel is a crapshoot. I couldn’t get back initially. But the world ends in eight days, and I am here to stop it. We can fix this together, but it’s not going to be easy.” His words tumble out in a messy cramped explanation and Five breathes in a deep inhale, looking at every one of his siblings.

The silence is so thick it can be cut with a knife.

“Five.” Vanya starts tentatively, eyeing her other siblings before fixing her gaze back on him tenderly. “You’ve…you’ve been through a lot, maybe- “

Rejection.

Five interrupts her by slamming his fist on the table, everyone jumping at the sudden sound. God, why would he ever bother telling anyone anything. No one had believed him until it had been too late even before. He leaves them in the kitchen to their speechlessness, teleporting into his old room and slamming the door shut with a click of a lock. He angrily shoves open the closet, picking the first blazer he can find and changes into his old better-fitting uniform. Five inhales and exhales deeply, pulling on his black socks as he sits on his old bed, thinking of everything that happened in such a short span of time.

The jump hadn’t succeeded and somehow, he was right back where he started.

Heaving out a breath, he drops his head, hands coming up to cover his face as he attempts to keep calm. He's so tired. So tired of working, tired of scraping his knees for solutions, tired of constantly pushing himself past his limits for nothing. Now it's all just back where he had started. All of that effort for nothing.

Back again. Back again.

His inhale comes in a bit choppy this time and he has to take a moment to ground himself. Dropping his hands, Five stares out the window, watching as grey clouds begin to roll in. It would rain soon. His brothers would fight and break Ben’s statue while the rest of them stood around in complacency. He clutches the comforter between his fingers tightly as he sucks in another deep inhale, trying to find his bearings. He already knew what they would do, because this has all happened before. His brow furrows in thought, contemplating the routes he could take now that he knows everything he didn’t the last time he was in this position.

Five tugs on his black dress shoes, tying the laces tightly before he gets up.

So, he had missed the mark the first time, but he wasn’t going to stop trying. This time around, he has a lot more answers, a lot more information he can work with right at the start. He could save Vanya from herself and a toxic relationship. He could help his siblings reconnect. He could help make them all a family. This gift of foresight could be enough to stop an entire apocalypse. Five exhales steadily, straightening his tie and smoothing down his sweater vest underneath his crisp blazer. Ready.

Time for take two.

Chapter Text

He had stared at his own portrait up on the fireplace for longer than needed. Even the first time, Five hadn’t known how to feel seeing that Reginald had commissioned a piece of him, his painting feeling far to large upon the wall. Had the old man really cared that he went missing? Unlikely, it was probably done as a way to remind the others about his foolishness. A lesson in not pushing. He makes eye contact with his painted gaze, finding the bitter humor and irony of it all. Currently he looks the exact same as the day he went missing, it was almost funny.

Almost.

Vanya’s footsteps pad quietly behind him and he turns. This conversation, he’d need to try harder to connect here. It's...difficult, for him, to reach out and be vulnerable with his emotions after everything he’d been through. Even younger, communication wasn’t his strong suit, but he owed it Vanya to try. The family was already so distant from one another, but the gap between them and Vanya seemed almost unreachable given how much time had passed.

“I read your book by the way.” He greets softly, the words familiar on his tongue. “It thought it was good, all things considered.” His hands shove into the pockets of his shorts and he turn away from his painted visage. “Pretty ballsy, giving up the family secrets.” He mutters, staring into her dark brown eyes. “Sure that went over well.”

Vanya doesn’t hesitate. “They hate me.” She replies, a tone solemn but resigned to that outcome.

Five exhales.

“No Vanya, I don’t think they do. I just think they don’t know any better. You know we’ve always been broken. We grew up that way, and we stayed that way. Jagged pieces don’t make a puzzle fit, and the old man hardly cared whether we were cohesive as a family…just cohesive as a unit on the mission field.” Five says, certainty lining his pale eyes.

“Five I-I just had so much I wanted to say and I felt like no one would listen. So I just-I just starting writing and-“ she trails off, fiddling with the cuffs of her sleeves.

“Vanya I-“ he starts where she stops, but finds his throat tightening in uncertainty.

Five is good at many things. Solutions, math, speed reading, combat, adapting, the ability to work under extreme pressure. The list could go on. Talking about feelings is not on that list. Being open, is not on that list. As a child, he tried in his own way to be there for his siblings. For Vanya. For Ben. He gave them things to focus on, or would distract their attention away from the loneliness and uncertainty that clouded their heart. At least, he had tried to. He wonders if they knew that he tried for them.

Now even after all this time, he realizes he still doesn’t quite know how to navigate these particular conversations. Decades of isolation have taken their toll. Delores was…is amazing, and she had been so good to him, but she couldn’t fill the void of everything that had been so missing in his life. He hadn’t developed a single social skill out there alone. Survival is prioritizing food, water, shelter-not conversational awareness.

Now, when he needs it most, he can't find the words.

“Vanya I…” he tries again, clenching and unclenching his fists as he tries something, anything to convey that she isn’t alone. “I-missed you.” He finally utters out shakily. “I want- “

“Hey.” Calls a voice at the door frame.

The two glance over to find Luther clutching their father’s urn full of ashes to his chest, looking at them expectantly. Five internally curses the timing of it all, angry at himself for not being able to change the scenario. It’s fine, he had time. He had time. This was just the beginning, he just needed to be ready. After the wake, he could just go to his room and map out the specific scenes and figure out the best way to create an ideal dialogue for that moment. Everything could be mapped out into equations and schematics, even conversations. Even words.

“It’s time to scatter the ashes, come on. And don’t forget to bring your umbrellas.”

It’s already raining when the group of them head outside, the later afternoon only adding to the chill of the day. The wayward siblings shuffle into the back yard, all lightly circling around Luther who automatically assumes the lead. Ben’s statue looms overhead, and Five looks up at it in solemn contemplation. He misses him. Not getting to spend more time with Ben is something that will haunt him for the rest of his life. In a way, he can only blame himself for leaving Ben the way he did. He had been the closest with him and Vanya. Had anyone tried to be there for Ben when he was gone? His thoughts are interrupted as Klaus stands beside him, looking at Five with an indiscernible expression. He wonders if Klaus will even bother to tell him what Ben said in response to his question earlier in the day, or if he’ll even acknowledge it at all. It’s clear the other siblings didn’t know Klaus could talk to Ben, so they might think Five is just as unhinged now, if not misguided. He pushes down the urge to shiver, not having a coat to shield him from the stark cold of the late autumn season.

“Whenever you’re ready, dear boy.” calls Pogo to Luther in his gentle old voice.

Five watches one more as the leader of their group pours out their dearly beloved father’s ashes onto the wet earth, all of them piling up onto one another with no wind to properly scatter them. The awkward silence is enough to make Klaus suck in a wince beside him as he fumbles with his cigarette. Five agrees with that sentiment.

“Might have been…better with some wind.” Luther mutters.

In a way Five can only pity the leader of their broken group. It’s clear Luther worked so hard for dad and the reward for that was being sent to the moon so Reginald didn’t need to keep staring in the face of a failed experiment. Luther was so dedicated to father though, the one true believer that he was a good and kind man underneath all of the pushing he did.

“Would anyone like to say a few words?” Pogo calls softly.

The silence speaks for itself.

“Yeah, I would.” He interrupts, earning a couple bewildered stares. “You know, dad wasn’t a paragon of virtue. He wasn’t a real father, and he treated us more like pawns on a chess board than actual human beings most of the time.” He starts, twirling his umbrella once in contemplation.

Luther is staring him down intently. His clenched jaw is a telltale sign that he’s going to interrupt soon.

“But dad did do one thing.” Five continues forward, locking eyes with Luther directly. “He made us a family. And like it or not, we are family. There’s no one who can do, what we do.” Five explains, gazing out across his siblings. “And this event has strangely brought us together again, and I don’t think we should waste that opportunity.”

The rain is loud overhead, he wants to go inside and have some coffee.

“And what opportunity is that supposed to be exactly, Five, huh?” Diego interrupts, looking like every bit of the rebel he tries to play, standing in the rain soaked to the bone.

“I’ve told you already. There’s something bigger than all of us on the horizon. The apocalypse is happening, and now that we’re together, we can do something about it.” Five repeats adamantly, trying not to lose his temper.

“Don’t Five, okay? Just don’t.” Luther interrupts both of them, putting the lid back onto Reginald’s urn. “This is not the time or place to be talking about you and the mistakes made. You know as well as I do that dad always said that teleporting through time when you’re not ready could have drastic consequences. Look, we’re all here for you if you need to talk, but not now. Not here.” He says sternly, apparently angry that the moment to respect their father has turned into a rally for them to band together for different reasons.

Five clenches his jaw, feeling his teeth grind together in agitation.

“You are so useless, I don’t even know what to say. Truly, you've left me speechless.” He grits out, clutching his umbrella tightly in his grip. “What good are you if you don’t even listen to me? What the hell do you think I’m doing here Luther? In case you weren’t aware, we all have powers! Things that are indescribable to the regular world! So why is it so incomprehensible that I’m here to stop the apocalypse from happening in eight days?”

“You need to calm down.”

“No you need to put some fucking common sense in your brain!” he snaps back, filled with an anger that had been simmering to the surface for days now. “Look around you Luther! He’s dead! You want to believe his death has a reason? Has a higher purpose? Then look no further than this, I have your wish!” he shouts, gesturing to all of them with his free hand. “His death brought us back together so we can prevent the real big picture. The end all to end all.”

He's bristling with caustic anger. They are all just so infuriating, thinking they can act like they know what's best. They have no idea what he's been through, what's he's done to get here. Why didn’t anyone believe him? It wasn’t as if this was anything out of the ordinary from what they’ve experienced before, Five just didn’t know why everyone was trying so hard to resist the idea that it might be real. Before he had just tried to do it on his own, and when the truth finally came out, Luther admonished him for not telling him about the apocalypse sooner. And now that Five drops it from the get-go, he's not even being taken seriously?

“We’ll talk later.” Luther eventually says.

It’s a dismissal.

“Nah nah, why don’t we just talk now right? Get it all out in the open.” Diego interrupts, stepping forward with a dark gleam in his eye that spells trouble.

“Diego.” Luther warns, wanting to shut it down before it even starts.

“No Luther, I don’t get why you even give a shit. You’d think if anything you’d be on Five’s little bandwagon to rally the troops, right? Give us all some higher purpose bullshit so you can pretend like the last couple years of your life weren’t totally worthless.” Diego drawls, a hint of a smile lopsidedly forming on his face.

“I am warning you. Stop.” Luther grits out. "This is not the time."

“That man was a monster. He was a bad person, and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.” Diego grits out, looking his taller sibling straight in the eye.

“You need to stop talking now.”

“What I need is to get on with my life because I’m more than just a fucking number. If you want to stand here and mourn someone who made our lives miserable and gave us daddy issues, you’re totally free to. But don’t pretend like you were special to him. He sent you away all the way up into space because he couldn’t even stand the sight of you.”

That’s all it takes for Luther to snap, winding back a punch and releasing it towards Diego’s face. Five watches in disbelief as the siblings break out into a fistfight in the courtyard once again. He watches Allison back up with a roll of her eyes. He watches Vanya step back, gently dragging back mom with her and yelling at them to stop. He watches Pogo protest. He watches Klaus throw out a hand to actually try and shield him protectively from the fight, even while egging the fighting brothers on verbally. What a contradiction. It all plays out exactly like it had the first time. Lots of angry shouting and emotionally driven punches. It’s sloppy, it’s childish, and it’s a disaster. He stays just to watch Luther drive a fist into Ben’s statue on accident, his deceased brother’s memory crumbling and crashing to the floor. It breaks on impact, chunks scattering across the earth and into the wet dirt. He feels a dull ringing in his ears, voices muted and muffled as if they’re underwater. The pouring rain sounds like waves of pelting glass upon the umbrellas, resonating loudly in his ears. He had changed the dialogue, but it still strangely ended up wrapping around into a fist fight. The outcome had been exactly the same. Nothing he said had made a difference. What had he done wrong there?

What had he done wrong?

“Shit.” He mutters, turning around and making a beeline for the door.

His throat feels tight as he slams open the door, closing the umbrella and tossing it away. It rattles to the floor uselessly. He inhales deeply through his nostrils, trying to push down the dread welling up in his stomach. Five teleports back up into his room, wheezing out an exhale and putting a hand up to his forehead. It was fine. It would be fine. He just needed to figure some things out. Maybe he wasn’t considering the proper solutions. Maybe he just needed to study his equations for time jumping so he’d be more prepared this time for transporting him and all of his siblings back. He could just let this time frame play out mostly the same, but instead of uselessly sitting around for a portion of it, he could focus on perfecting the calculations so when the time came, he’d be ready.

There are certain things he could prevent. Klaus’ kidnapping. Allison’s near-death situation ending in a potentially permanent injury. Did these things even matter in the long run? They were alive. They were fine. They were all together in the end when the world was falling apart. He sits on his bed, staring down at his shoes. Maybe he shouldn’t intervene at all. Maybe he should purposefully try and play it out exactly how it went the first time so at the very least it’d be a guaranteed chance to go back in time with all of his siblings there at the end. Five leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubs his forehead. Decisions, so many decisions. Did he try and improve this run even just a little bit? Or should he try and keep it moving like the first time line so he at least knew consistently what would happen? Could he remain impartial now that he knew how much pain his siblings would be in?

“Shit. Shit.” He breathes, hiding his head in his hands.

He doesn’t know. For the first time in a long time, he’s genuinely lost at what to do. The entire world’s fate is riding on these decisions. His sibling’s fates are riding on these decisions. Five moves his hand to his chest, gripping tightly at the fabric there. His heart thuds in his ears, panic playing with his mind and laughing at his misfortune.

He’s scared.

He’s actually scared.

Eventually the rain stops, the sky begins to darken, and Five is no closer to a decision then he was when he first sat down to think. He unconsciously started scribbling out dimensions and volumes of his siblings’ mass as a total unit, moving from pen and paper right onto marking the walls again with chalk. He always had a tendency to write on anything he could find when the urge struck him to calculate. His hand slows down after a good third of the wall and his desk is covered in chalk, Five feeling light-headed with tension. He hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink this time around, having chosen to initially forego the sandwich.

He could go for some coffee.

Suddenly, flashes from the previous timeline hit him all at once, the chalk falling from his hand. Five is sprinting out of his room and down the stairs before he even has time to consider the consequences of his siblings seeing him making a mad dash for the car. Panic floods through his veins at the thought of the elimination squad coming to the academy building and potentially using his siblings as bargaining tools.

There is a tracker in his arm and it’s getting dark.

He’s not supposed to be here. Regardless of his decision, Five isn’t going to put his siblings in unnecessary danger when he knows what’s going to happen. How could he have forgotten? Such an oversight could have been disastrous. It still could be if he didn’t get the hell out of here as soon as possible. He moves into the kitchen as Klaus and Allison are milling about, both startling at his sudden entrance.

“Five?” Allison questions with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Taking the car.” He bites out quickly, aggressively shuffling through a drawer to grab the keys for the vehicle.

“Where are you going?” Klaus asks, eyes sparking in interest.

“To get a decent cup of coffee!” he retorts, sucking in a breath of relief at finding them and quickly warping out of the room and inside the vehicle.

He tries to gun it out of the alley, pressing on the gas pedal with more force than necessary. The car doesn’t even make it out before he sees their silhouettes in the rear-view mirror. When he flicks his eyes forward there are two men standing with guns blocking off the entrance.

“Shit.” He curses to himself empathetically.

Okay. He’s going to make it fine. At least it wasn’t inside of the building. He could just, handle it here. If he fights quick enough, his siblings won’t even get outside in time to get caught up in the fight. Five debates gunning it anyways, wondering how much distance he could put between him and his siblings before the tire gets shot out or he himself gets shot through the windshield. The odds weren’t very impressive.

“Get out of the car.” The leader calls.

He grips the steering wheel tightly, forcing himself to be calm.

“That was fast, thought I’d have more time before you found me.” He tells them politely, slowly opening the door to the car and stepping out.

He holds up his hands in surrender, looking pensive and resigned as the five men slowly move closer to him. All of their guns are drawn, some of them look antsy, nervous. Clearly, they knew who they were dealing with.

“Okay, so let’s all be professional about this, yeah? Come with us, and then we’ll talk.” the squad leader commands.

Five likes him, though names for grunts weren’t his strong suit. Still, he knows the man has a small sense of morality because he will hesitate at shooting him. He doesn’t want to shoot a kid, that’s what he had said the first time around.

The was just a weakness to exploit.

“Okay.” He murmurs, keeping his eyes down to the floor. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see them before…” he trails off, playing up the fact that he’s thirteen again by lightly shrinking in on himself. “Well, you know.”

“Let’s just head back over to Mission Control, and they can figure out what to do with you, alright?” The man says calmly. “Believe you me, I don’t wanna shoot a kid.”

Five knows that, and inevitably that’s going to be the man’s downfall. Five men in total. Surroundings aren’t ideal. It’s so cramped that the chances of being nicked by a bullet just by bad luck are high. Then again, that means the lackeys also have a high chance of shooting each other. He surveys the area, eyes flicking rapidly from the car, to the dumpster, up to the fire escape.

“Don’t worry, you won’t get the chance to.” He sighs.

And just like that the alley is flooded with action.

Five disappears in a flash of light, dropping on top of the car with a grin. It’s all teeth and edges, eyes glinting with danger. He sprints across the top and leaps, aiming for one of the fighters at the end of the alley. Guns are raised and fired, Five feels a bullet graze by his cheek as the man holds up his gun to aim right at him. Before the gunner can pull the trigger, Five warps right through him and ends up on the other side. He skids, the crunch of gravel crackling in his ears. With a grunt he springs on top of the man’s back, ruthlessly wrapping his arms around their neck.

His victim chokes, fumbling with his gun and dropping it onto the ground as he tries to pry Five’s hands off of his throat. Five wastes no time smashing his foot into the back of his persecutor’s knee, sending the man falling down. Five uses the momentum to move down also, using the man’s body as a shield as he swipes up the gun from the ground. Whirling around, he shoots the nearest standing guard point blank in the head. His foot smashes down on the fallen man’s knee, his howl of agony echoing off of the alley walls.

Four left.

Not wasting time, he whirls the gun into the air, throwing it high into the middle of the alley. He warps, hearing the clang of bullets embed themselves into the brick walls where he was moments before. Five comes out on top of the fire escape, the sound of his feet landing on the rusted metal alerting the rest of the soldiers to his presence. He’s teleporting before they even have time to correct their aim fully. Then he’s free falling in the middle of the alley. His hands snatch the still airborne gun as he falls, firing a spread of bullets in front of him and feeling the satisfaction at the pained cries that ring out.

Two left.

He lands on the ground, feeling a wave of vertigo that suddenly tilts his vision sideways. Grunting in disorientation, he falters, dropping to one knee as it scrapes harshly against the course ground. His palm catches him before he falls farther but there’s no time to stop. His eyes land on a discarded glass bottle. It feels cold in his hand as he silently sweeps it up. When he properly looks up, he freezes, his eyes staring at the scope of a gun aiming down at him.

“Stop, kid.” The leader commands. "You're done."

There's the hesitation.

“Not on your fucking life.” Five bites back, disappearing in a flash of blue light.

The man automatically turns in alarm, trying to find where Five had warped to and is met with a bottle being smashed over his head instead. He hadn't. Clutching tightly to the remaining shard in his hand, he uses the moment of surprise to barrel the man over. They both fall harshly, and Five finishes the job by slitting the man's neck in one foul swipe. He pants, watching the life leave the man’s eyes as he stumbles off of the body and onto his feet. Black spots dance across his vision and he needs to lean against the car in disorientation. Shit, he really needed some coffee. Exhaling, Five makes a mental count as he straightens up. No time to let his guard down. Not yet.

One left.

Wait, one left?

He blinks, confused. A cry of agony alerts his attention to one of the men at the very end of the alley. Broken pieces of glass crunch under his footsteps as he makes his way over to the pitiful sight. Right, he had broken the man’s knee cap after all. Taking a deep breath, he allows the glass he had been clutching tightly in his hand to drop, hissing lightly as it went. Five calmly stands over the man’s prostrate form, bending over to cradle their head with bloody hands. With a sudden twist of the man’s head, their neck is snapped. An easy finish.

None left.

His breaths feel unsteady, and his limbs weak but at least the job is done. Five steps away from the body, turning back to survey the damage when he stops short. Diego and Klaus are standing in the doorway of the alleyway with wide eyes, staring at Five with stunned alarm. The three stare at each other in speechless surprise, the wail of sirens being heard in the distance. Five can smell the mixture of petrichor and blood in the crowded alley. It makes him feel sickly.

He blinks out of his stupor.

“Well…” he starts eloquently. “This is exactly what it looks like.” He announces blandly, feeling a thick stream of blood drip sluggishly down his hand. “While you’re here, I’m going to need to borrow one of your knives if you don’t mind. I'll give it back of course.” He mutters, addressing Diego.

He straightens his tie, his bloodied hands staining the white fabric of his blouse. The two still haven’t moved from their spot, seemingly shell-shocked at the scene in front of them. Diego blinks as Five approaches them, straightening up as he looks from the bodies back to Five.

“Preferably now.” Five stresses.

Speechlessly, Diego procures one of his signature winged blades, awkwardly holding it out to his bloodied sibling. Five nods in thanks, snatching it without another word and turning to prop his elbow on the car. This wasn’t ideal, nor particularly sanitary as his hands were already a bloody disaster but he didn’t have much time to dally about it. He cuts into his own skin, hissing out an exhalation of pain as he lightly slices a small vertical line down his inner forearm.

“Je-esus, what are you doing!” Klaus exclaims in alarm, pushing past Diego and making a beeline for Five, awkwardly stepping over the corpse in his way.

“Tracker.” Five grits out as he wipes his hand on his blazer before digging his fingers into his cut.

The pain makes his legs weak, and it’s a struggle not to collapse at the sudden flare of agony as he tries to clamp on the tracker embedded into his arm. Eventually his fingers find the metal device, pulling it out of his skin, a fresh gush of blood exiting with it. Klaus flails his hands around in the air beside him, awkwardly hovering over Five's form but not getting close enough to touch him. Five pockets the tracker for now, he'll discard of it in a different location, one that isn't right beside his old house.

“Diego and I were going out for some late night breakfast, but imagine our surprise when we hear gunfire and I hadn't even committed a crime yet!” Klaus says with a laugh, but there’s a tightness to it that conveys concern.

“That is not what we were doing.” Diego mutters mulishly, finally managing to find his voice. “Five what the actual hell is going on here, huh?” he demands, crossing his arms as he crosses over to the other two siblings, immediately trying to fill the shoes of leader.

Five stares at him petulantly, finding it ironic now that there were five bodies lying at their feet that Diego wanted answers. It wasn’t good enough to just take him at his word, no, they all needed physical proof in the form of corpses! The sirens grow louder. He doesn’t want to deal with that. Five surmises neither of his siblings want to deal with the cops in this situation.

“I could go for some breakfast.” He says faintly, trying to focus his vision.

"Oh for fuck’s sake.” Diego groans, throwing his hands up into the air at a loss.

Klaus grins, eyes lighting up in interest. “You like waffles?”

He does like waffles.

Chapter Text

Five jerks awake feeling hands on his wrist. He snaps his head to the side to see Klaus attempting to wrap a bandage around his arm. Exasperated, he wrenches it away, huddling closer to the window.

“I told you he’d wake up.” Klaus whines, putting his hands up in surrender while throwing an angry glare to the middle seat.

Ben then.

Diego sighs, shaking his head as he drives. “Look, just patch up your arm so you don’t die of blood loss. I don’t need to be framed for your death if you keel over in the back of my car.” He grouses.

“Harsh Diego! So. Very. harsh.” Klaus sighs dramatically. “Our brother is injured-practically invalid, and all he’s asking for is breakfast.” he breathes heavily, sliding down in his seat with a hand to his forehead.

“No, you asked for breakfast. Five is doing…something, but I really doubt it’s because he actually wants breakfast, ain’t that right?” Diego huffs, eying his mirror.

Five gives him a cheeky grin in return, knowing it looked unsettling and strange. “Actually, I haven’t eaten in quite some time, so I’m really just here for some breakfast and a good cup of coffee if that’s even possible.”

Amusement hums in his mind when Diego grimaces, looking back down at the road.

“So fucking weird.” His sibling mutters more to himself than to Five, turning up the radio in agitation.

He supposes he momentarily dozed off in the car. Not ideal, but it could be worse. At least he wasn’t forced back inside the house and made to sit down as a spectacle for the rest of the siblings. Of all people to see him, Five is pleasantly surprised that it was Diego and Klaus. Diego who makes fighting part of his evening routine, and Klaus who finds entertainment in the abnormal. Better yet, Diego keeps a first aid kit in his car. Of course he does.

Five wonders how many times the man has had to patch himself up alone.

He shakes his head, immediately pushing away those thoughts.  There’s some antiseptic that’s sitting on the car seat, bouncing lightly with travel. In fact, most things in the kit were not haphazardly scattered around the seat, courtesy of Klaus.

“What, Ben didn’t tell you which steps to start with?” Five mutters in dry amusement.

“No he did, but I knew better and said you’d wake up so I just wanted to get it- “Klaus trails off, freezing in dialogue as he realizes he confirmed Ben’s presence.

He can hear Klaus’s jaw snap shut with an audible click of his teeth. Five stares him down for a moment before going back to cleaning his wound, shaking his head to himself. He hisses in a quiet breath, finding it a hassle that this body is not as accustomed to pain as he mentally is. His fingers tremble with exertion but he’s able to wrap his arm with medical gauze with a bit of finessing. At the very least he had experience treating his wounds, but damn did he need some coffee. After putting the supplies away, he shifts away, leaning against car door and staring out the window.

He doesn’t feel well.

Klaus is humming some sort of tune to himself, conducting his mental orchestra with a twiddle of his pointer fingers as Diego pulls up to the parking lot of Griddy’s Doughnuts.

“There. Now get out, both of you. I don’t have time for this, some of us have actual work to do.” Diego commands, turning in seat to look back at them in agitation.

“Off to play Robin?” Klaus asks with a lazy smile, propping his feet up on the front seat’s armrest “And here I was, thinking we could all bond like in the good ole’ days.”

“Just get out! You’re lucky I even drove your asses here alright?” Diego orders with snappy frustration, his already thin patience gone.

 Five watches the scene with dull eyes, not surprised by the bicker from his siblings. He looks down at his bloodstained hands in contemplation, wondering how to possibly salvage this. He had wanted Diego to go in with them in the hopes that Five could sway him to his side. After all, there was proof tonight that his words might have weight to them. One couldn’t blame a swat team trying to kill him and chalk it up to his imagination.

His hands are sticky as the blood begins to dry, leaving a tacky residue on his pale palms. In grim realization, he realizes it won’t work. This whole thing, just won’t work. Rallying his siblings together to bond and understand each other won’t erase the decades of hurt between them. It wont erase the scar tissue that still lingers on old wounds that reopen as soon as they come in contact with one another. There has been too much damage done to try and fix that in just eight days. He thought that even in their differences they could band together and fight a greater good Maybe that might be true. But what if the greater good is learning how to forgive and forget? What if the greater good is accepting the pain, accepting the mistakes, and the genuine want to move forward? What if the greater good, is for all of them to want it? To want to be a family again?

He had been so naive.

“Forget it.” He mutters bitterly, opening his car door and stepping out.

Black spots dance in his vision as soon as he shuts the door, Five awkwardly leaning back against the car in an attempt to stabilize himself. Klaus and Diego were still bickering, their words lost to the dull roar in his ears.

“Fuck.” He whispers, breathing in deep through his mouth and trying to regulate his breathing.

Forget this. He’d just, go to Vanya’s place. By foot. He’s been in far worse situations than being dehydrated and losing some blood. Far worse. This was nothing, this is nothing. He’s fine. He’s always fine. Five pushes himself off the car, forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other away from the car.

“Hey, hey hey where are you going?” calls Klaus, the man quickly scrambling out of the car, Diego driving away as soon as the man stepped out.

“Who cares?” Five says nonchalantly, keeping his gaze fixed on the city skyline twinkling in the distance as he moves forward.

“Oh come on, don’t you bail on me too! Breakfast, Five!” Klaus begs, quickly jogging over, his disheveled black hair bouncing with every step.

He shivers.

“I-“ Five starts, but finds himself at a loss.

Klaus wants company, and is more than willing to sit down with him. Does that matter? Did it matter? It shouldn’t. He should just refuse and make his way to Vanya’s. A more emotional part of him wants to sit down with Klaus. He wants to talk to Klaus. He misses Klaus. Klaus understood the most out of them what he had been through, or at least…the first time around he had.

Five really failed him too.

There was so much he could do better this time.

He’s about to turn around when his vision blurs, black spots dancing across his eyes. He stumbles, feeling the ground turn upside down.

“Oh.” he murmurs blandly as his legs give out, world going blissfully black.

When he comes to, he can feel a small but desperate tapping to his cheek. He’s lightly propped up on the wet ground, body being clutched tightly to someone’s chest. Disoriented, an unwilling whimper falls out of his lips, Five shuddering away from the frigid evening air and into the warmth.

“Hey short stack, it’s okay, you back with me?”

Klaus.

His eyes shoot open, blearily trying to untangle himself from his brother’s hold with a grunt of alarm. It doesn’t have the desired effect. His hands are trembling and his body doesn’t seem to be cooperating with him. Five feels like an actual child, weak and unable to coordinate his mind with his actions. His vision is still being uncooperative, blurring in and out of focus.

“Woah, no no no, easy! Easy.” Klaus exclaims. “Jesus, you straight up fainted. How about you forget the whole distant persona for a second, being grumpy probably takes a bit out of you.” He says with a tight smile, exhaling a laugh that feels as forced as it looks.

“What the hell.” Five rasps weakly, shakily putting a hand up to his forehead.

“Okay, okay just-is this a blood loss thing or is this something else here? Did the shock of breakfast cause you to swoon?” Klaus asks desperately, the unease in his eyes contradicting the smile on his face.

Using all the energy he has, Five levels Klaus with a glare.

“Okay better question.” Klaus mutters, looking down at his sibling with growing concern. “Should we take him to a hospital?” he questions, forgoing trying to speak with Five at all.

Five weakly shakes his head anyways, attempting to clench Klaus’s jacket tightly to make his brother focus on his decision.  Once again, it fails to have the desired effect. Klaus simply looks concerned, hugging Five tighter to his chest and murmuring something softly to Ben. Frustrated, Five closes his eyes, trying to gather the strength to speak.

“Huh? Really?” Klaus mutters, huffing out a scoff. “Okay, okay! God, it’s not like you’re a doctor.” he mutters in annoyance, nibbling on the tip of this thumb in a nervous habit.

“Hey uh bud, open your eyes for a sec. Are you…” he trails off, giving a shake of his head. “Are you uhhh, having...low blood sugar?” he asks with confusion in his hazel eyes.

Well. Five couldn’t quite say if that was the main issue at large, but figured it’s close enough to his dilemma that he might as well just say yes. He stares at Klaus blearily, giving a feeble nod of his head. Klaus watches his reaction for a moment before a manic smile forms on his lips, a harsh laugh of disbelief shaking his body.

“You just killed like, five guys in the parking lot then slit your wrist open, and the thing that takes you down is sugar? Jesus kid.” Klaus breathes, trying to gently prop Five up more. “Okay well the good news is there’s our savior, Griddy’s Doughnuts just a walk away. You think you can manage or do you want me to carry you in?”

Five scoffs, as if Klaus could even manage to lift him.

“Wow you didn’t both need to do me like that.” Klaus mutters to himself, shifting from his crouched position. “Come on then, up we go if you’re all so doubtful of my impressive strength. We’ll go slow.” He urges, lightly holding Five’s elbows to gently guide him to his feet.

Such out of character gentleness from his normally disheveled brother makes Five feel mortified. He didn’t need to be coddled. He tries to open his mouth to say so, but the effort of just forcing his body to work steals his breath away.

“Easy, easy.” Klaus urges softly as Five wobbles to his feet, swaying lightly. “Damn you don’t look great short stack.” He mutters, concern shining his dark eyes.

He wishes Klaus would shut the hell up with the nicknames.

Slowly, much too slowly, they make their way over to the diner. As embarrassing as it was to admit, Five can’t help but be relieved that there was at least someone who had stayed by his side. If he collapsed on his way to Vanya’s who knows what would have happened. The timeline could have gone disastrous if he wasn’t there to at least intervene when needed. He couldn’t waste time dying in the night, or laying around in a hospital. Dazed, he didn’t even noticed that Klaus had practically been holding most of his weight anyways until the man fumbled to push the door open to the diner. His brother maneuvers Five into a booth, settling him down with a sigh of relief.

“Okay! That was easy right?” Klaus grins, scratching his cheek lightly as he stares down at Five.

He doesn’t say anything in return, simply leaning against the wall and settling his weight onto it tiredly. Even just that amount of exertion made him dizzy, shivering in cold sweat as he attempts to regulate his breathing. A soft weight settles over his shoulder, Klaus’ painted nails coming into view as his brother grabs Five’s wrist and lifting it through a coat sleeve.

Oh.

He blinks, looking down and realizing Klaus just gave up his own jacket for him to wear.

“For the uhhh…” Klaus trails off, pointing at his neck. He gives a wink and a click of his tongue before he twirls around, making his way quickly up to the counter to talk to the waitress.

Right. He must look quite a sight, being covered in blood. Five eyes the bathroom at the other end of the diner, sighing wistfully. It’d be nice to clean up, but it didn’t seem very plausible at this point in time. He tugs the coat closer to him, trying to cover up some of the blood smeared on his collar. His hands were a mess of crimson. Five simply hides them under the table, resting on his lap. The coat was a right mess, but it was warm. It had the strangest mix of scents. Something like rain, perfume, and nicotine. He didn't mind it.

“Oh the poor dear, but is he okay?” comes the far away voice of the lone waitress on duty.

“Oh he’ll be just fine, he’s just hippoglykismet. You know how it is.” Klaus replies. An awkward pause. “Hypoglycemic.”

Some more murmuring. He’s so tired.

“Hey. Eyes open kiddo.” Klaus whispers softly near him.

Five didn’t know when he had closed them again. A glass of orange juice is pushed across the table close to him, a neon blue straw to top it off. He blinks tiredly, raising his gaze to Klaus who was smiling at him expectantly.

“Drink that, apparently it’s one of the best things for sugar crashes. Who knew?” he says in dramatic bewilderment, taking a seat across from him.

Klaus rests his chin on the palm of his hand, elbows on the table as he watches Five with surprisingly sharp eyes, giving a lazy smile in response that contradicts his stare. His eyes shift to the side again, apparently listening to something Ben is telling him, sighing in response.

“I know you can’t possibly be doing well if you’re not even going to lash out about the nicknames.” Klaus mumbles lazily, smile falling into a neutral expression.

Five says nothing to that, cradling the juice close to him as he takes small sips of it through the straw.

“Okay. You do that, and I’ll talk.” Klaus declares, tapping his painted nails on the table in antsy energy. “So, Ben. You uh, you really believe me that he’s-“Klaus gestures to empty air. “You know he’s here?”

Five flicks his gaze to Klaus expectantly, hoping his expression would say it all.

“Riiight so. Ben didn’t know what you were talking about. Sorry.” Klaus apologizes with a wince, nibbling on his lip. “I didn’t wanna have a whole talk about that dead sibling situation in front of everyone else, if ya know what I mean.” He mutters. “They already think I’m off my rocker, guess they think you might be too what with the time traveling and all.” He mutters with a breezy sigh.

Five leans back against the booth in disappointment, a shaky hand moving up to rub at his temples. Of course not. He didn’t know how spirits or death worked when time was involved. Foolishly, he perhaps had hoped that they weren’t able to be touched by the fabric of time. Thinking about it now was only giving him a headache. Inhaling deeply, Five simply sighs, returning to his juice.

One day in and Ben’s statue was still destroyed, his siblings were still selfish assholes, and his actions did nothing to change the flow of time. The only thing he had managed to do was almost put his siblings in danger and cause himself to pass out due to too much exertion and not enough stability. Killing people can take a lot out of someone he supposes, especially when he isn't used to it anymore. Even his pain tolerance and stamina had taken a hard hit. It's infuriating.

“Here you go boys, three servings of waffles. One with chocolate chips, one with all the fixings, and one with peanut butter and applesauce.” Rings the soft voice of the waitress, her face showing an old but maternal kindness as she sets the platters on the table. “I’ll be right back with the rest.”

Klaus claps his hands in delight, yanking one of the plates over to him. It’s piled on with bananas, strawberries, whipped cream, and a heaping drizzle of chocolate syrup. Five stares at the plate of waffles that had little chocolate chips melted into them. His heart aches. He softly tugs the plate towards his side of the table, but pushes it to the left of him. He gives Klaus a challenging stare before pulling the last plate to himself.

He wants Ben to sit by him.

Klaus chokes on a laugh. “Wow. I never realized how great it is to have someone know.” He mutters in pleased surprise, eyes softening at Five’s challenging glare.

“What, you think I knew your favorite waffle combination? Please. That was all him demanding it in my ear. Applesauce spread over peanut butter? What kinda drugs were you on as a kid?” Klaus snorts, but there’s a warmth in his eyes as he returns back to his plate, a small weight lifted off of his shoulders.

Five freezes as he chews on his first bite, the flavors of nostalgia almost bringing tears to his eyes. Sitting with Klaus and Ben; even if he couldn’t see one of them, it almost feels like home. It almost feels like warmth. It almost feels, like he never left. There is a simple happiness that he hadn’t remembered until now, the little things like this. He blinks a couple times, forcing those emotions down. Sneaking a glance at Klaus who clears his throat a bit too loudly, Five wonders if this was the first sense of normalcy that the other sibling had experienced in a long while too.

“I’m back boys!” the waitress chimes, her sandy blond hair bouncing as she brings more plates of food towards them. “You sure must be hungry. Well, you eat up.”

Eggs, pancakes, fruit, and an entire platter of doughnuts are all squished onto the table, barely managing to fit on top.

“Why the hell did you order so much?” Five questions softly in bewilderment, his voice still a bit weak but slowly regaining some strength.

Klaus looks up from his plate with his mouth full. He winks, gesturing to Five’s chest. Raising an eyebrow, Five pats down the coat he had borrowed from his sibling, feeling a bulge in one of the inner pockets. He pulls out a wallet, opening it up.

The snort of laughter he makes in response is not dignified.

Klaus looks absolutely elated at his brother's delight, eyes twinkling with mirth as he shoves a chunk of waffle in his mouth. Diego’s driver’s license stares back at him with beady eyes and a brooding frown. Klaus must have pick pocketed it from his brother at some point during their bickering. Five's eyes land on Klaus who seems to have no problem showing how soft and endeared he is to his laughter.  Feeling embarrassed, he ducks his head, hiding a genuine smile as he plucks out Diego’s credit card.

Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Chapter Text

After a platter of waffles, a glass of orange juice, two doughnuts, and some water just for practicality’s sake, Five can safely say he feels like a functioning human being again. He’s eying another doughnut, contemplating if he can possibly stomach another one before his attention is drawn to Klaus clearing his throat.

“You know I uh-I can’t help but feel as a concerned older brother that I should be asking you what happened back there.” He says, approaching the topic hesitantly while tapping his fingers on the table.

“I’m older than you.” Five automatically corrects, pleasantly surprised can hold a conversation once more.

Klaus smirks a lopsided little thing, putting his hands behind his head as he lounges in his booth. “If you want to be all ‘technically’ about it, you’re still thirteen. Hence- “he points to himself. “Older brother.”

Five rolls his eyes, earning a pleased sound from Klaus.

“Klaus, I wasn’t lying about a single thing I said. There’s going to be an apocalypse in eight days and I’m here to stop it.” Five explains once more, exasperation already creeping into his tone. “Technically, I’ve already gone through this timeline, but I have more knowledge now. I’m a step ahead.”

“Yeah uh, was fainting from overexertion part of that plan or- “Klaus interrupts cheekily, barking out a high-pitched laugh when Five throws a doughnut at him in agitation.

“Listen to me Klaus.” Five urges seriously. “I need to know if I can count on you, because I- “

Because he’s alone. Because he’s always been alone. Because he doesn’t have Delores anymore to bounce ideas off of, and he can’t bring himself to take her back after they parted. It wouldn’t be right for either of them. He had to grow up and leave that part behind him.

“Because millions of lives are at stake, do you understand?” Five finishes, looking at his sibling intently.

Klaus just frowns, scratching a cheek and taking a sloppy bite of the doughnut Five had thrown at him. “And what would you have me do, brother of mine? Imminent death and destruction seem a bit uh, out of my skillset if you know what I mean. I just hear the after part of that whole kit and kaboodle.” the man sighs wistfully, running a hand through his hair with a yawn.

Five loves KIaus, but he also cannot stand the man’s mental thought process. It is inherently unhelpful as Klaus doesn’t ever think ahead, content to live in the moment. Being that sort of man, he wouldn’t understand the real consequences of a future issue. Five can see the way the Klaus is itching for a fix, probably wondering where he’s going to get the next hit from. It’s infuriating. But at the same time, Klaus is also strangely sentimental and considerate when he wants to be. The man contradicted himself on a daily basis and was such an unpredictable person that Five always struggled to make heads or tails of him. This is a difficult case.

“I need you to try and channel Dad.” Five mutters, eyes trained down at the table.

He didn’t want to talk about this so soon. In fact, he didn’t want to ask this at all, but at some point in the previous run, Klaus had claimed he had talked to their dearly departed father. If he could just hear what Reginald had to truly say, maybe…maybe there was something the old man had said to Klaus that could have been deciphered in a different way.

“Already tried that, didn’t go so well.” Klaus mutters, heaving a dramatic sigh as he takes another sloppy bite of the confectionary. “And believe me, I did try this time.”

“It’s because you’re so high all the time that you can’t focus properly. This is a complete waste of time. If you would just take some initiative for once in your life Klaus, you might not have issues about managing them as a grown adult.” Five lectures in agitation, leaning back in his booth with his arms crossed tightly.

“Woah now! Be careful there shorty, you’re starting to sound like dear old dad.” Klaus frowns, shifting sideways in his seat to lay across his booth. “Though if you have enough energy to lecture me, I guess that means you’re feeling better.” The man grins.

Five isn’t going to apologize for the comment. It’s true. He knows it. Klaus knows it. He shouldn’t have to feel bad about saying that.

He shouldn’t feel bad…

“I’m nothing like him.” He argues petulantly, earning a snort from Klaus.

“I don’t know. You two both seem to have the whole ‘Doing everything behind our backs for reasons we can’t comprehend’ thing going on.”

“Klaus!” Five snaps, smashing a hand on the table. “I need you to be here, do you understand? I need you to stay at the Academy and be with the family. Stay. There. No joyrides to go out for drugs or bar hopping or whatever worthless pursuits you do at night. This is for your safety, do you understand? Can you comprehend this request?” he bites out, eyes sparking with intensity.

“Well what the hell man! You can’t just expect that of me, I got things to do too.” The man whines, kicking himself back up into a sitting position and levelling Five with an annoyed expression.

“What could you possibly have to do that doesn’t involve getting high or getting drunk?” Five grits out, feeling an agitated smile make its way over his lips.

“Oh shut up, man!” Klaus says after a moment, but he’s not looking at Five, he’s looking at Ben. “God you know what Five? I already have a walking lecture half of the time, I don’t need you to add to it. Ben seems to think you’re being perfectly reasonable though who knows why!” Klaus mutters childishly.

A beat of silence.

“Well why don’t you just go haunt him then if you miss him so much!” Klaus complains, falling back onto the booth with a large flop.

Five massages the headache slowly forming at the bridge of his temples. Amazing how things could start so promising and immediately crash and burn when Klaus is involved.

“Klaus I love you, but for the love of God, you are so fucking useless in these early days.” Five mutters, more to himself than anything.

The other man pops his head above the table in surprise, staring at Five with wide eyes.

“You love me?” he asks, a pleasantly surprised smile sweeping across his face.

Shit.

“Okay. We’re done here.” Five announces, clenching his jaw as he smiles while he slides out of the booth.

“Hey, wait, take it easy.” Klaus urges in worry, quickly stumbling out of his own booth and hovering over Five like a worried parent.

Five stands easily, putting a hand to Klaus’s chest and slowly pushing him out of his space.

“I don’t need you to treat me like a liability. I’m not. I’ve done things none of you could dream about.” He mutters acridly, turning to scribble down a tip on the receipt for the waitress.

Klaus just laughs at him.

“Wow you don’t get it at all do you?” the man chuckles breezily.

“Oh, do enlighten me, please.” He drawls in a lazy response, scribbling out a forcibly sloppy signature on the pay stub as he tries to mimic Diego’s signature.

“Five, you basically just came back from the dead, and you look the exact same as you did when you left, man.” Klaus grins, crouching lightly to stare Five in the face. “You’re not a liability, but you’re my brother. Is it just so terrible to think that maybe I’d want to care about you?”

Five inhales, breath catching in his throat as he looks to the side. He doesn’t know why, but the earnest look Klaus is giving him makes it hard to look him in the eye. His hands clench into fists, unable to respond to such a genuine statement.

“I tried to call for you, you know. When you were gone. I thought if I could get Ben then maybe I could-“Klaus starts, giving a thick swallow.

Five feels what breath he had left disappear altogether, slowly turning to look at Klaus with surprise.

“You-what? “he starts breathlessly, unable to say anything else.

“I thought initially it’s because you were still alive out there somewhere, then I thought-maybe it was just because you didn’t want me to connect to you. Maybe you didn’t want to talk to me or bother with me, even in death.” His brother laughs dryly, hanging his head for a moment.

Klaus shakes his head. Five is speechless.

“Klaus I- “

“No, no no no, look pal.” The other interrupts with a sigh. “I can’t promise to always be there, or hell, to even say I have my shit together. I’m going to get high. I like to drink and to feel good. Take the edge off, you know? The only thing I can tell you, is that I’ll try. If you need me, I’ll try to be there for you.” Klaus promises, looking up to stare Five in the eyes. “Even if that’s with your weird universe saving mumbo jumbo, or a better decision like robbing our brother to eat a shit ton of breakfast, okay?” He smiles, running hand through his disheveled hair, his gaze sincere.

Stunned, Five nods.

“Apocalypse got your tongue?” Klaus grins, tapping Five’s cheek in a playful manner before straightening up, reaching his arms up in a stretch.

Five inhales through his nose, turning to make his way to the bathroom.

“Proud? What are you, my dad?” Klaus jokes dryly to the empty air as Five passes. “You insult me, then you support me.” He sighs. “So ungrateful honestly!”

Closing the door behind him, Five turns the lock. A deep exhale shakily exits his mouth. Everything that Klaus said had thrown him off, again. Entirely too unpredictable. The sincerity from the other man had shocked him the most and Five cannot help but wonder what sparked such a dedicated response. Was it really just because of tonight? He shakes his head, facing the sink. Five shucks Klaus’ jacket off his form, hanging it neatly on the coat hook behind the door. Turning on the water, he stares at the mirror just above the sink, looking at his tired reflection.

He really is just a kid.

Grimacing, he lathers his hands with soap and shoves them under the warm water. It turns pink as the it mixes into the drain, Five scrubbing diligently to remove the now dried blood that had built up on his skin. He manages to wash his arms and hands free of the mess, sneering at the blood on his pristine white collar. That one would take more than just hot water and soap. After a proper wash, he feels much better. He plucks out the tracker in his pocket, tossing it into the garbage with a grimace.

Five attempts to smooth down his wayward hair strands, eventually deeming it a lost cause after several tries. He grabs the coat on the way out, folding it over his arm as he steps back out in the diner. The waitress gives him a friendly wave. She’s familiar. Klaus is laying in the booth again, his legs vertical and up against the wall as he yawns. Five drops the man’s coat onto his dozing face, earning a bewildered muffled shout in response.

He fights down a smile.

“I’m leaving now.” He announces, smoothing out the sleeves of his blazer.

Klaus rolls off of the booth with a curse, stumbling up onto his feet.

“Oh yeah? Okay, well do you- do you have anything you have to do tomorrow you need help with?” he asks, almost strangely earnest.

Oh.

Five looks at his brother with a furrow in his brows. Klaus is lonely, almost desperate for company. This enthusiasm must come from the fact that the man needs to always distract himself, to find something to do to keep his focus away from his addictions.

“Yeah, maybe.” Five answers softly, unable to outright deny his brother after everything they had been through this evening.

Klaus nods, tugging on his coat and patting the pocket to ensure he still has Diego’s wallet.

“Great! Uh great. I’m sure I can manage to find some time in my busy schedule to help out.” He mutters distractedly. “Oh, smart, right. You need money for a cab or something kiddo?”

Five blinks, thanking Ben for his smart suggestions. Minutes later they are standing outside of the diner, the night air cold but refreshing as it softly blows across the streets. Five parts from Klaus with a stiff nod.

“This, was not unpleasant.” He admits awkwardly, pocketing the cash that he had been given.

Klaus is silent for a single second before he barks out a loud laugh, shaking his head and seeming utterly endeared by Five’s dialogue. “You are so adorable.” Immediately throwing up his hands in surrender when Five glares at him. “You can just say you had a good time.” He grins easily, hazel eyes soft in fondness.

Five scoffs, pushing open a warp and disappearing in a flash of blue light.

“No, I don’t think so.” Klaus murmurs with a resigned smile to the lonely wind. “I know, I know. I told you I’d try didn’t I?”

The frigid evening breeze sways softly in answer.

The trip to Vanya’s isn’t terribly out of the way, but having a cab drive him was certainly quicker than going by foot. Five nods in quiet thanks to the driver, shoving proper payment at him as he gets out, looking up at the small apartment complex. He wastes no time climbing the stairs and warping inside, familiar with the location of Vanya’s apartment to warp once more once he’s inside the hall. His feet land in her living room, the darkness all encompassing. She must already be in bed. Five took longer to arrive at her apartment due to being sidetracked with Klaus. With a sigh, he moves blindly in the dark, reaching out for the lamp by the chair he already knows the location of. His fingers bump the cold metal, hovering up to feel the switch and turning it on with a twist. The room is engulfed in a warm yellow light, giving off a feeling of domestic nights and tea before bed.

He isn’t going to wake Vanya. They can speak plenty in the morning now that he knows he doesn’t need to track down the recipient of the glass eye. He moves over to her bookshelf, idly browsing her book collection. With a sigh he turns away, digging through her drawers to look for paper to write on. He plucks a pen that’s resting idly on some music sheets, making due with a couple of crinkled extra sheets of paper that had been in her junk drawer. Sitting down on the chair, Five starts scribbling out equations for the space time continuum jump on a piece of wrinkled piece of paper. This time, he’d make sure the equations weren’t wrong. He gets through one piece of paper both front and back of the sheet, numbers crammed in the margins every which way. At some point during the third sheet of scribbles the night the numbers blur together and his limbs feel heavy.

He rouses from his sleep to a gentle hand brushing softly through the front strands of his hair, the sweet smell of tea settling in the room. He inhales it in, taking in all of the little comforts of the apartment.

“I thought I was dreaming for a second when I came out into the living room.” Vanya’s steady voice murmurs gently beside him. “I always used to think that one day, I’d come back and you’d just be here eating a sandwich or-reading a book or something.”

Her voice is like a gentle stream of water, soothing and calming Five’s nerves. Even as he cracks his eyes open and sees her standing over him, feeling her hand on his cheek, he can’t help but feel relieved to see his sister. Being vulnerable for her was never as difficult as it was with his other siblings.

“Guess it’s today then.” He replies, voice raspy with lingering exhaustion.

She quirks a hesitant smile, looking down at the sheets that had slipped off of his lap in the night. “I guess so.” She mutters, exhaling out a small laugh.

She steps away from him, respecting his space and bending down to scoop up his papers. Vanya sets them on the table and moves over to sit on the end of couch to face him. With an exhale, Five pushes himself up from where he had fallen asleep slumped in the crook of the chair, rolling out his aching shoulder. Luckily, being young had its merits as well.  Sleeping in uncomfortable positions were easy to bounce back from at this age. Small victories.

“Oh, here. It’s tea with honey. You look stressed, even in your sleep.” She offers, holding up a teacup and saucer for him.

“Would prefer coffee.” He retorts, but accepts the offering anyways.

“I really missed you Five.” Vanya whispers, brown eyes solemn.

She looks tired. Her shoulders seem to droop down with some sort of invisible weight and Five knows it’s the resignation and lack of self-esteem that was drilled into her as a child. He had failed her so very terribly. He wasn't there for her when she needed it all those years. His childish behavior had such a high cost. He sips his tea, closing his eyes as the warmth envelops his body, trying to not let the regret drown him. He takes a moment to just breathe, listening to the sounds of the creaking old wood and the muffled city noises from outside.

“I…" he's at a loss. "I missed you too Vanya.” He confesses back finally, looking up at her and unable to keep the hurt and regret out of his out of his eyes.

She moves, reaching out to him with needy hands. Five watches as she hesitates in her approach, self-conscious and scared to hope he wouldn’t reject her. He idly shoves the tea onto the nearest surface, meeting her halfway and wrapping his arms around her in response. Five closes his eyes, refusing to let his emotions control him as she hugs him tightly. He hears her give a shaky exhale, clutching to him a bit tighter as if he might just disappear between her fingers if she didn’t. His jaw clenches, blinking down the tears that threatened to spill.

His sister is not a monster.

The honey she added to his tea lingers on his tongue.  Five contemplates the warmth running through his nerves, and knows that the tea has nothing to do with it. Vanya though, has everything to do with it. He would remember his moment, a little pocket of time for himself with gentle hands and the sweetness on his tongue. With desperate comforts and soft sunlight streaming through the window.

This he could have. This he could remember always.

He wouldn’t leave her again.

Chapter Text

“I know you’re not going to believe me, but I need to tell you this. It’s very important Vanya.” Five says after the two eventually parted from their embrace.

Vanya furrows her brows, taking a sip of her own tea and settling back into the couch.

“When I jumped forward in time I…” he starts, trailing off in tired frustration.

He rubs at his temples, not knowing where to go with this. Sure, he could explain it once again in the hopes that she would actually believe him and process it this time around. He didn’t know what to do about her powers. Does he reveal it to her? Would she be willing to try and practice to get it under control? Is it safer for her to not know?

He doesn’t want to lie to Vanya, but he also doesn’t want to invite her to embrace some of the darkness that their childhood left with her.

“It’s okay Five.” Vanya encourages to him softly. “I know you’ve been…through a lot.”

“Yes, I suppose I have.” He agrees. “But that’s rather irrelevant to the situation at hand.” He drawls, removing his hand from his face. “Vanya, when I jumped in time, I came out on the other side to an apocalypse. I spent a lifetime there trying to figure out how to get back to you all, how to figure it all out. I was so young.  Dad was right about how time travel was unpredictable. It took me so long to figure out the equations, and in the end, well, it looks like I still didn’t perfect them.” He mutters, gesturing to his blazer.

“I don’t understand. Are you saying that-that the world is going to end?” Vanya asks in disbelief, setting down her tea mug.

“In eight days. Well…seven I suppose.” He corrects himself tiredly with a shake of his head.

There’s silence. Five grits his teeth, eying his haphazard scrawl on the papers he was writing on last night. Vanya sits back in her seat, trying to comprehend the severity of her sibling’s explanation.

“Look Five if, if you need a place to stay, you’re always welcome here for as long as you want.” Is eventually what she ends up saying.

“You don’t believe me.” He drawls expectantly, trying to ignore the stab of hurt that comes even the second time around.

“No I-it’s just a lot to take in.” she argues weakly, tucking a dark chocolate strand of hair behind her ear in a self-conscious habit.

He shakes his head, learning forward in his seat to level her with an intent stare.

“Vanya. At some point in these next few days, you’re going to meet someone. A man. His name is Leonard. I need you to promise me that even if you don’t believe me, you won’t talk to him. That you won’t associate with him in the slightest.” He requests, trying not order it from her outright, but making it very clear that this was serious to him.

He’s nervous. He’s nervous that he will somehow miss Vanya meeting Leonard and by the time he tries to do something about it, that it will already be too late again. He was so in the dark about Vanya’s life the first time around due to his distractions, he can’t mess this up again.

“I-Five…” she trails off, sighing in resignation.

He knows she feels out of her depth here, not knowing how to respond. It must be hard to try and support someone who might not be in their right state of mind. Clearly, she doesn’t think he entirely coherent.  He inhales, hesitantly placing his hand over the top of her on that rests on the couch arm rest, trying to infuse as much genuine intent he can into his next statement.

“Please, Vanya.” He asks, his pale eyes meeting her own dark ones.

Unable to deny him when he’s doing his best to try and be open with her, she quickly covers his hand with her free one in an attempt to comfort him.

“Okay. Okay I won’t. If it’ll make you feel better I won’t, even if it doesn’t really make sense.” She promises, and Five feels relief pour through his body.

“Good.” He nods, feeling as if now there is finally a gigantic improvement in the time line.

He doesn't want to talk about Leonard to her. He doesn't want to tell her about what sort of man he was. He doesn't want to say anything that might make her catch onto the fact that she brought the devastation of the earth the first time. Her guilt doesn't need to exist due to a previous timeline where she had been manipulated by a person who she thought she could open her heart to. That wasn't fair. That isn't fair.

“Five, if you ever need someone to talk to. I mean-maybe I’m not quite the right person. I could recommend someone to you. I mean, I saw someone for a while…” she offers.

Five knows her heart is in the right place as she suggests for him to see a therapist, but it’s agitating all the same. He’s not psychotic and he’s not imagining any of this. He can’t be. He just can’t be. Five wonders if she was just humoring him when she agreed to his request.

“Thanks, but I don’t think that will be necessary.”

She nods, as if she expected he wouldn’t agree to the idea.

“Okay. Just know that the offer is always there, okay?” he says with a ghost of a smile, returning to her tea.

He dimly nods in response.

Five doesn’t know how to feel about the scenario at hand. Even now his mind keeps returning to the idea of just telling her everything. Leonard’s manipulation. Her powers. Her darkness of mind when she fully embraced them. The failed jump back in time. Five can’t help but wonder if his honesty this time around, his attempts at trying to connect to her more is actually doing him more harm than good. Is she simply pacifying him because she thinks he’s young and traumatized? It’s clear she doesn’t entirely believe him. He doesn’t know why it’s so hard to believe after growing up in extraordinary circumstances. Maybe Vanya feels as if she’s moved past that life and is content to simply be…

“You’re not ordinary Vanya.” He says suddenly, breaking the silence.

She looks at him confused, tired eyes tightening in a past hurt that might never heal. A word that had been ingrained into her mind for her entire life. A word that still haunts her like a lingering scar.

“What?”

“I just-nothing.” He fumbles, panics.

This is hard for him.

“Nothing, I need to go. I’ll be back later if that’s acceptable.” He says, getting up from his seat.

“Five wait- “Vanya calls with a frown.

“I’ll be back a bit later Vanya.” He repeats in a promise, stepping through time and disappearing in a flash of blue.

Shit.

“Shit.” He breathes, clutching at his hair in frustration, his feet touching the outside concrete.

He walks along the sidewalk, taking in deep inhales and trying to calm his beating heart. He was so bad at this. All of this knowledge and he still can’t manage to get anything right because the real skills he needs are the ones he lacks. Running a hand through his hair, he continues his venture through the city. He’d return to the house for now, see what siblings are still milling about. He needs a drink. That’s a better idea. One cab ride later, he slips onto the familiar pavement, looking up at the tall building of his childhood home. Five doesn’t go through the main door, choosing to move over to the side alley to sneak in a subtler way. He would anyways if it hadn’t been blocked off by police tape. Right.

“Hey kiddo!” Rings a voice causing him to jump in alarm, whirling around to the source.

Klaus grins at him, twiddling his fingers in greeting as he looks at the crime scene along with Five. He’s surprisingly wearing different clothes from last night, meaning at some point he probably passed out and actually changed when he got up.

“Klaus.” He greets amiably, eying one of the detectives milling about.

“Looks like things got a little crazy last night, I wonder what could have caused such a gruesome fight!”  the man asks, putting a dramatic hand to his chest. “Truly ghastly. Not great for me though, I really sort of needed to check the dumpster back there.” The man winces.

Five looks up at him for moment, trying to dissect his last sentence but ultimately failing. Strangely, Diego is also milling around the scene, chatting up a female detective who seems less than willing to hear him out. Eventually she grabs him by the ear, pulling him down and very likely telling him to leave. Clearly this was his sibling’s friend he had mentioned in the previous time line from the way Diego’s eyes soften around her and his lips tilt up in that hint of a smile. The one that was shot by Hazel and Cha-Cha. Another thing he’d need to make sure to fix in this time. Eventually Diego is stepping away. As he ducks under the crime tape and looks up, he meets his sibling’s eyes. There’s a brief moment of frozen surprise before the man’s eyes turn murderous. He straightens up, making a war path right towards them with a snarl already forming on his lips.

“Oh shit.” Klaus breathes. “He totally knows.” He lets out a nervous giggle.

Ah right, the wallet. On second thought the front entrance would be just fine by his standards. Then suddenly Klaus is grabbing his wrist and tugging, sprinting back around to the front entrance as he drags Five along with him. Five tugs his wrist out of the man’s hand in exasperation, not wanting to get involved with his brother’s thievery consequences. Though in a way, he certainly doesn’t regret doing it, and even went along with it with a small amount of satisfaction. The man pushes open the door quickly, ushering Five inside with panicked giddy laughs.

Dammit fine, he’d help.

“Get the fuck back here Klaus!” Diego shouts from the sidewalk.

Klaus does no such thing, turning to shove the door closed behind him and locking the door. He whirls around, eyes panicked and body bouncing with adrenaline.

“Okay! Okay okay! Should I just leave the wallet on the table and disappear for a bit? Is that the best option to not get gutted? What do you think Five? Any suggestions buddy?” Klaus asks, his hands moving into a praying pose.

“Don’t worry Klaus.” Five sighs, holding his hand out in demand of the wallet.

Klaus doesn’t hesitate, digging into his coat pocket and quickly offering it up to Five with a sweaty palm. Five lazily drifts into the sitting room immediately heading for the bar. He points to one of the bottles of fine whiskey on the top shelf, giving Klaus an expectant look.

“Okay, okay.” Klaus nods, using his height to reach up on the shelf and pull it down.

Five busies himself by grabbing out drink glasses, sliding them on the table. He places the wallet on the bar, turning around and making his way back over to the entrance. Unlocking the door, he opens it himself just in time to see a fuming Diego pull back his fist.

“Don’t break the door.” He chides, opening the door wider in invitation.

The casual behavior causes Diego’s anger to simmer briefly in confusion, the man eventually stepping inside as he gives Five a cautious look. Five watches as Diego puckers his mouth in angry frustration, dark eyes darting back and forth for any sign of Klaus. The man fumes, stocking around the open room like an angry child.

“I know he took my fucking wallet.”

“He did.” Five agrees.

“Motherfucker.” Diego seethes, looking around the area.

“How about a drink?” he offers, gesturing towards the bar. “I have your wallet right here.”

“What?” Diego asks in bewilderment, following the shorter into the second room.

True enough, the wallet is sitting innocently on the bar along with a couple glasses of whiskey ready for consumption. Five fights down a smirk, wondering if Klaus decided to hide behind the bar just in case. Diego sighs in relief, swiping his wallet back and immediately opening it. Apparently, he finds nothing to be out of place, suspiciously glancing at Five before he pockets it underneath his harness. Five has already seated himself at the bar, taking a long sip of his father’s fine whiskey. It burns as it goes down. After a beat of silence, Diego sits down too, partaking in the alcohol as well.

“We can pay you back.” Five mutters. “Or rather I will, because Klaus has no sense of responsibility.”

“Oh please, I know you didn’t steal it Five, this has the idiot’s prints all over it.” Diego scoffs in response, knocking the glass back in agitated gumption.

“He did it for me. So, in a way I can be held responsible.” He explains, turning to look at Diego. “He was worried for my…wellbeing, so he unfortunately went overboard in using your card to buy food and a cab for me.” Five explains calmly, pouring himself another glass.

Though whether Klaus continued to use the card for his evening pursuits, Five didn’t know. He hopes the man has enough common sense to have not, but Klaus had been holding quite a sum of cash at the end of the night, presumably for drugs. Diego side eyes him, dark brown eyes flicking up and down his form once. There is still plenty of dried blood on his clothing, staining his dark blazer. He’d need to change soon.

“You’re fine though?” his brother asks eventually.

“Thanks to him, unfortunately.” Five sighs. “What I’m trying to say is, he actually did it in an attempt to be helpful, so if you could not gut him, that would be ideal.”

Diego mulls it over, apparently actually needing time to think about it before he rolls his eyes and takes a hardy chug of whiskey. He slams the glass down in agitation, gloved fingers tapping on the rim of it.

“Whatever. Shouldn’t be surprised in the first place.” He mutters with a sneer.

“That is so touching, I’m so glad we can all be on the same page here.” Klaus sighs dreamily, poking his head out from behind the bar and lounging his arms on top of it.

Five rolls his eyes as Diego pulls out a knife and immediately throws it at the top of other man’s head. Klaus gives a startled yelp, falling backwards and off of the bar in a thud of clanging bottles and a rumble of the shelves.

“If you take my wallet again, I’m not going to miss.” Diego threatens.

“Well when you see your credit card bill, you might not be so forgiving in the first place so really-” Klaus laughs from the floor, not helping his case in the slightest.

Temper fully blown once again, Diego slams his hands on the bar, pushing off of his seat. Five shakes his head in exasperation, quickly kicking out the man’s bar stool from below him. His temperamental sibling flails at suddenly having nothing to keep his weight on, falling backwards with a shout and landing on the floor in a sprawl of limbs.

Diego groans from the floor. Klaus giggles, voice muffled from his own fall.

“I’m surrounded by idiots.” Five muses.

“What’s going on in here?” booms a voice from the doorway.

Luther steps into the room with a frown, Allison peeking in after him in curiosity. Five can see Luther’s gaze switch from looking at Diego’s fallen form to him sipping at his third glass of whiskey.

“Sibling bonding!” rings the voice of Klaus from behind the bar, still out of sight laying lazily on the floor.

“What?” Luther blinks, disbelief lining his features as he leans to the side in an attempt to find Klaus.

“Sibling bonding.” Five agrees dully, knocking his glass back.

“Sibling bonding.” Diego surprisingly muffles from carpet. “So go away.”

“Oh no.” Allison says, slipping past Luther into the room. “I want in on this.” She mutters, casually stepping over Diego’s fallen form and taking a seat at the bar.

Five slides her the bottle of whiskey which she grabs with ease, pouring herself a full glass on the rocks. The liquid inside illuminates a golden colour as the sunlight shines through the bottle. Five thinks they all have problems that a little whiskey might help fix, or at least dull the edges a bit. 

“Sibling bonding.” She announces dryly, knocking her own drink back.

Five bites back an amused smile.

Chapter Text

“Well. How convenient we should all be in the same room.” Five announces after he takes a last sip of whiskey. “I believe a chat is in order.”

Five figures while most of them are liquored up, he might as well try this again. Turning in his seat, he leans back against the bar table, eying up Luther, Allison, and Diego in front of him. Klaus has decided to drape across the bar table behind him, content to look up at the ceiling and doze in and out.

Luther frowns, crossing his arms. “This again.” He starts, earning an agitated smile from Five in response.

“You said we could talk later.” He grins sharply, all teeth and no kindness.

“It is later, gotta give him that.” Klaus retorts breezily, flopping an arm across his face with a tired sigh.

“Okay.” Luther relents in agreement, a man of his word. “Five, you have the floor. We’re all listening.” He says with a nod, standing tall in attention.

“It’s about Vanya.” Five starts.

Diego snorts, running an agitated hand through his hair. The man takes out one of his blades, twirling it around in his fingers, a mulish expression on his face.

“Right. Vanya. Now is there a reason we’re supposed to care Five? She fucked us over.” He mutters. “Whatever you have to say about her isn’t something I’m particularly interested about I’ll tell you that right now.”

Allison remains quiet, eyes troubled. She hugs herself, hands clutching at her arms in contemplation.

“I feel like that might not be very fair to say to her. She lived an entirely different life than us Diego, but she was our sibling. She was an outcast.” She muses.

“She is our sibling.” Five corrects in agitation.

Allison looks up at Five, her eyes shining with a mixture of uncertainty and guilt. She’s the easiest to sway and Five knew this just from the previous run. Unlike the rest of his siblings, Allison at least tried to connect with Vanya and make up for some of the lost time. In her own way. She failed terribly, but her attempts started with the right reasons.

“Big deal, we all have our own shit to take care of because of our terrible childhood. Vanya isn’t special because she has self-esteem issues.” Diego scoffs, levelling Five with a sardonic smirk. “Nah nah, she’s just special because instead of dealing with it like an adult, she wrote a book talking about every single one of us and how fucked up in the head we are. That’s pretty fair to blame her trauma on children, don’t you think?” he asks, the heat in his voice only rising with every word.

“She’s our sibling, and she has powers.” Five interrupts, finally dropping the bomb.

The silence afterwards is tense, each one of his siblings trying to digest that sentence in their own personal way. Luther closes his eyes, brow furrowing as he tries to comprehend what Five just said. Shaking his head, he levels Five with a pitying look.

Five wants to sock him in the face.

“Look Five. I think I can speak for all of us- “

“You can’t.” Diego interjects.

“-when I say that we’re happy you’re back, and that you’re okay.” Luther continues, taking a step forward. “But the things you’ve been saying are just- “he trails off, hovering out a supportive hand to Fives shoulder. “They’re just a bit crazy Five. You know what dad always said about time travel…how damaging it can be to the mind.”

Five catches his wrist, clenching it tightly with a gritted jaw. He was so sick of this argument constantly being thrown in his face. Time travel is dangerous for one’s mind and sanity. As if he didn’t know that. As if he didn’t live through the consequences of a jump gone wrong. He isn’t crazy.

He isn’t.

“Diego’s friend is named Patch.” He bites out, releasing Luther’s wrist harshly away from him.

“What-how do you know that?” Diego jerks his head up in curious caution.

“Allison has a daughter named Claire.” Five continues.

“You, know about Claire?” Allison asks softly, her eyes tender with emotion.

“And Number One, your stupid mission to the moon was completely- “he clenches his jaw.

No. Not that.

“Dad killed himself.” He presses instead. “He killed himself to bring us all together again, because he knew that without something big, that we’d never reunite.” Five says harshly, laying it all bare. “He knows we need to be together to stop the apocalypse.”

“No. No that’s not possible.” Luther says in immediate denial. “He wasn’t- “

“It is possible! It’s possible because it happened.”

“No. I know something else happened to him. He told me- “Luther interjects.

“Luther!” Five shouts, temper flared. “It’s not about you, or your frivolous pursuits on the moon! It’s not about you, or me, or-or any of you!” he barks harshly to his siblings, slipping off his seat. “It’s about Vanya. Our sister. It’s about her because she has immense power and we need to help her otherwise the entire world as we know it is going to cease to exist. Do you understand this?”

“What were you going to say?” Luther asks after a moment of silence.

Five looks up at his looming sibling with agitated bewilderment, a hand automatically running a hand through his hair.

“What?” he asks in exasperation.

“You said my mission to the moon was…something, and then you didn’t finish your sentence.” The man asks.

“How are you managing to make this about you man?” Diego laughs. “After all this, and you’re still just asking about yourself? How about you be concerned for our brother or something? He’s been sneaking around poking his nose in things he shouldn’t be and getting into all sorts of trouble because of his…beliefs.” He mutters, eying Five with caution.

Concerned?

“I don’t need you to be concerned about me, I need you to be concerned about Vanya. What part of I’m from the future do you not understand?” Five asks in disbelief, his emotions all over the place. “I’ve already been here once and now I’m trying to prevent it from happening again.”

“And what exactly do you mean by that Five?” Allison chimes in, skepticism lining her tone. “You’ve already been here? What does that mean? Why didn’t we stop the apocalypse the first time then?”

Five looks down at his feet for a moment, clenching his jaw as an infuriated smile forces its way onto his lips. God they were all so maddening. How many times did he have to say he’s from the future? How many times did he need to explain he already knows what’s going to happen?

How many times did he need to somehow convince them that he wasn’t insane?

“When I jumped forward in time, I found your bodies.” He starts once more, swallowing thickly. “You all tried to fight the apocalypse, and failed. After I managed to transport back to the present, I realized it was eight days until the apocalypse and I tried to figure out who was the source of such cause. I didn’t have as much information as I do now, but in the end, I transported us all back in time to when we were young. This was because Vanya is the source of the apocalypse, and travelling back to our childhood would be the best way to figure out how to make it so we could do it right this time.”

He grimaces. “Or at least, I tried. Instead, I’m here again, the same day as when I initially transported back in time.” He explains heavily, sick of dropping large amounts of information at a time only to be disregarded.

“So why didn’t it work then?” Allison presses.

“I don’t know, I suppose the equations were off…again.” He begrudgingly grits out.

“Right so what, you want us to band together annnnd what?” Diego asks, throwing a hand out in question. “Like let’s say we’re all on board, like what do you even want us to do man?”

“There is a man who goes by Leonard Peabody. He is the trigger of the apocalypse, and Vanya is the gun. He’s going to try and manipulate her to take revenge against all of us, but in the end, it destroys everything. The world. Vanya needs our help, not just with keeping him away from her, but with having other people to be there for her. Her family. We can teach her how to control her powers, we are the only ones who can. Who else is like us?” Five urges to the others.

“And that’s somehow supposed to stop the apocalypse? Playing house with Vanya?” Diego scoffs, shaking his head.

Klaus groans, massaging his temples.

“This is just a lot to take in, y’know?” the disheveled man complains. “Look, look look, maybe we should all sit down and drink some more. We almost acted like a family for a moment there, it was nice, wasn’t it?” He laughs unsteadily, turning on his side and cradling the bottle of whiskey.

“Wait, you said you tried to transport us all back to our childhood?” Allison reiterates softly.

“Yes.” Five nods. “It was the only way to prevent- “

“No.” Allison interrupts, looking at him with a severe gaze.

It takes everything in him to not outright balk at the woman, her rejection one of the last possibilities he had expected in this conversation. Five stares at her for a moment, her brown eyes staring him down serious with her conviction.

“What?” he asks in angry disbelief.

“I said no, Five. How could you even think I’d agree to that? I-I have a child!” she exclaims, throwing out her hands. “How could you think I’d agree to-to just-to not have my own kid exist on a gamble of time?” she chokes, eyes watering at the mere thought of Claire not existing in her life.

Five stares at her, his mouth lightly open in disbelief. Slowly, he turns around back to the bar, yanking the bottle out of Klaus’s grip. He snorts in detached amusement, unable to truly believe that this conversation has tilted in such a direction.

“Well she won’t be alive for very long then will she, because of the apocalypse, in case you forgot.” he informs her blankly, beginning to pour himself another glass. “Which apparently all of you keep doing so.”

Luther’s hand grabs the bottle of whiskey away from him.

“I think you’ve had enough.” The first brother informs him stoically.

Five can see the protective flare in Luther’s eyes, knowing the comments to Allison spurned the man into action. He nods idly in empty agreement for a moment, allowing him to take the bottle. Five’s hand curls around the tumbler instead, the cold glass soothing the cut on his hand. With a jerk, he hurls it at a wall in a childish fit of anger, the glass shattering and shards flying on the floor. Klaus startles, barely catching himself before he falls off of the bar table while Five whirls around to his other siblings with bared teeth.

“You are all so fucking selfish. Maybe it was a miracle it even happened at all the first time.” He mutters with a miserable smile, poison coating every word that comes out of his mouth.

He walks out of the room with his anger clawing to be let out and his nails clenching so hard into his palms that they bleed. None of them try and stop him. He fumes, throwing himself through a warp up into his room, slamming the door shut and locking it. His hands automatically go up to clutch at his hair, squeezing tightly in rage that he refuses to release fully. Eventually his hands drop, Five giving an angry exhale before wrenching open his closet and taking out a clean uniform. He moves into the bathroom, giving himself a quick wash down, especially scrubbing at his hands thoroughly in frustration. His hands are pink with agitation from the heat of the water when he’s done. After dressing in a clean uniform, he glares at his reflection, wet hair still causing droplets to plop onto the bathroom floor. The urge to punch the mirror is all-encompassing, but he refuses. It'd be a worthless pursuit. He combs through his strands of hair, allowing himself to focus on his breathing. As he styles it to its immaculate form, his mind runs through the scenario downstairs with rapid vivacity. Clearly, it had been a mistake to drop the truth on them.

Now they all think he’s just unstable and irrevocably scarred from his time travel error.

Warping back into his room, Five sits on his bed, trying to ignore the roar of sound in his ears. He’s angry, rightfully so. But being justified about it didn’t make him any less angry. The mistakes downstairs might have truly done some damage on this time line. What if now he had somehow made it worse? What if he’s ruined the chance for them to actually come together at the end? He doesn’t realize he’s breathing harshly until there’s a knock at his door.

“Don’t bother.” He snarls. “You’re all a waste of my time!”

His fingers ache with energy, the need to do something filling his mind. Five is picking up the chalk before he can give it another thought, kneeling on his bed and desperately writing out equations upon equations. Math is logical. Math always has solutions.

The knocks continue.

“Aw come on Five, I know that didn’t go very great but can’t you let your good ole’ pals in?” Klaus’ muffled voice rings through the door.

The writing pace lessens in tenacity, Five blinking at the sloppy scrawling across the wall with a numb detachment. His hand trembles and he wills himself to forcibly exhale, chalk dropping from his grip. He slips off the bed silently, unlocking the door and opening it in resignation.

“So. Not your best moment.” Klaus greets with a breezy chuckle as he strolls in.

“What do you want.” He asks dully, a weariness enveloping his bones.

He’s tired. He’s just so tired.

Klaus pauses, twirling around no his feet to give him a once over, a frown tugging at his lips.

“What are you up to in here?” Klaus asks innocently, staring at his walls of writing.

Five shakes his head, not in the mood to deal with this particular brand of crazy at the moment. He turns, moving back towards his bed, picking up the chalk again.

“Hey.” Klaus calls. “It’s okay bud, I’m sure you’ll get them to believe you soon!” the man chirps encouragingly.

Five grits his teeth, his grip tightening on the chalk. He writes faster.

“Then we can go back to our old days of crime fighting and making dear old dad stare in bland apathetic acceptance! It’ll be great!” Klaus rambles, gesturing his hands in circular movements as he walks around Five’s room. "Oh wait, disregard the dad part-"

“Klaus, what do you want?” Five asks, leaning forward to focus on the numbers.

The other man looks sheepish, clearing his throat loudly as he gazes around the room. His gaze locks onto Five’s hand, still lightly shaking with emotion and that raw concern flickers in his eyes before he covers it up with a light-hearted smile.

“I want to spend quality time with my brothers.” he grins.

“Well there are two downstairs, and one that is currently right beside you” Five mutters, not even counting himself in the equation as he stares at his numbers.

If he could manage to transport himself into a form that exists between all alternate realities, he could certainly do it for his siblings too. Since he initially transported himself back into his thirteen-year-old body, maybe there was some possible way to reverse-engineer that calculation to apply to all of them? He needed more. More, more, more. He needed more variables, more outcomes, more possibilities. The fate of the world might rest on these numbers, why couldn’t he get this right?

A hand on his rapidly writing wrist jerks him out of his thoughts.

“Hey, Five, it’s really gunna be okay.” Klaus promises him softly, his hand strangely steady on top of his own shaking one.

He hadn’t realized his numbers had slowly dissolved into almost nonsensical scribbles as he continued. He numbly stares at the wall. Five exhales, pulling his wrist away from Klaus’ hand, cradling it to his chest. He just didn’t know where he had gone wrong. How had the truth been the wrong way to go about this and what would be the consequences? What permanent damage has he done? What sort of fate has he doomed everyone to?

There’s ash falling from the ceiling.

And suddenly he’s back there.

The smoke rests in his lungs like a poison. His knees are scraped raw, his bones ache, and his skin feels fevered because of the heat. It’s always so hot. There’s nothing out here. There’s nothing but ash, corpses, and rubble. This is the future, this would be all of their futures. The air tastes like smoke, dust, and the colour crimson.

“Hey-Hey eyes on me, bud.”

His body is shaking. It’s not surprising. He’s tired, he’s always tired. So much walking for absolutely nothing. There’s nothing out here anywhere. He can’t breathe.

“Kiddo, come back-you’re not there.”

Is he not?

Cool thin hands land on his cheek. They feel like ice in comparison to the heat, surprisingly gentle and kind. That’s not right. There was nothing kind about the place he’s in. Nothing. Five blinks and instead of ruins leading into nothing, he’s staring into Klaus’ worried face.

Oh god, maybe he is crazy.

Panicked, he jerks backwards on his bed, kicking his socked feet in an aggressive struggle to detach himself from Klaus.

“Shit! Five, hey-stop. It’s okay, it’s okay!” Klaus promises earnestly, trying to dodge around his sibling’s flailing limbs, holding up his hands in a surrendering gesture.

“Get out!” he screams, voice hoarse for reasons he doesn’t understand.

Klaus looks lost, helplessly looking over to the side. After a moment he nods, looking back to Five with determined concern. The man reaches over, ignoring Five’s protests and attempts to fight his way out of any sort of contact.

His entire world freezes when Klaus envelops him in a hug.

“It’s okay. I’m here. Remember? I said I’d try and I’m-I’m here.” Klaus murmurs, face close to his ear as the other hugs him.

Five trembles, shakily moving his hands up but hovering around his brother’s form in helpless confusion. What does he do. What does he do? One of Klaus’ hands move to the back of his head, petting some of the still damp strands with gentle care. A hug. An embrace. Why was he so lost at what to do? This sort of gentle comfort. He didn’t understand it.

He crumbles.

His hands clutch at the man’s coat tightly, a violent shiver wracking his body as he pushes himself further into his brother’s embrace. Five buries his forehead into his brother’s chest, a shuddering exhale leaving his body. His breaths are choppy and hard to control, so he focuses on his brother’s heartbeat and the way the man holds onto him tightly. He allows himself to be held, taking in the familiar scent of cologne and nicotine Klaus always seems to carry with him. He doesn't mind. 

“You don’t believe me either.” He mutters hoarsely after catching his breath, his hands gripping the coat tighter.

“Hey, I do believe you.” Klaus retorts, running a hand down his back. “You’re the only one who hears me out, even if you don’t always take me seriously, figure the least I could do is believe you back, right?” And Five can hear the smile in his brother’s voice.

Five nods, feeling small.

Eventually Klaus pulls back, giving Five an earnest smile.

“You okay shorty?”

“I’m, fine. You can leave now.” Five says neutrally, trying to push down the wave of horror and embarrassment that is flooding through his veins.

Vulnerability like that will get him killed.

“Where’d you go to?”

Five shakes his head. He doesn’t want to talk about it. Klaus nods in understanding, patting his knees before standing up from the bed.

“You should put on your shoes and then we can sneak down and raid the kitchen.” Klaus suggests, stretching out his limbs with a tired groan. “I could go for some food about now, tummy’s getting a little rumbly.”

Five glances back to the writing on the walls, staring at it with uncertainty. His hands unconsciously tighten around the comforter, twisting up the fabric.

“I should get to work on these.” He says, trying to push down the regret in his voice.

He didn’t want to be stuck in this room full of numbers. He wanted to be with Klaus and Ben eating lunch. He wanted to be with Vanya, listening to her play the violin. He wanted, he wanted-

It doesn’t matter what he wants.

“Okay, no pressure.” Klaus says with an unaffected air, but he eyes Five as if he wants to say more. “Think there might be coffee down there actually.” He tries the bribe shamelessly.

“I’m not sure that’s relevant at the moment.”

Klaus nibbles on his lip, eying the door with hesitation. Five can see when the man turns to listen to something Ben is saying. It makes him feel oddly self-conscious.

“Ben thinks you should come down and eat with us because he doesn’t want you to pass out again.” Klaus grins, turning to look at Five with a playful challenge in his eyes. “When’d you eat last?”

“Last night.” He confesses begrudgingly, knowing neither of them would consider tea to be food.

“Bingo! You need to get some food in you. A proper lunch for strong growing boys! All that drinking and no food? That’s a migraine waiting to happen, believe me I'd know.” Klaus urges as he turns. “Wait, why did no one question that downstairs? I should be more responsible.” He rambles with a laugh, a weight lifted from his shoulders as he unlocks Five’s door and opens it wide.

Five shakes his head, toeing on his formal shoes. He crouches down, tying them tightly in perfect loops.

“After you ma petite crêpe.” Klaus announces in a terrible French accent.

"Call me a small pancake again and I'll make you into one Klaus." Five threatens blandly, shaking his head. 

He doesn’t know why Klaus seems to be clinging to him so much this time around, but Five can’t bring himself to mind so terribly much. He glances up at his sibling as he passes, allowing himself a rare smile in gratitude to his brother before he steps out into the hallway. It sounds like Klaus chokes in response, Five turning around in confusion to glance at his sibling with a raised eyebrow. Klaus is biting down on his knuckles, looking at Five like he just hung the moon. Seeing Five’s focus on him he grins widely, quickly trailing along behind him.

“To lunch!” he declares.

Five rolls his eyes, turning back around to push down a smile.

"Oh my god I know Ben, I know ." Klaus whispers excitedly behind him, voice high with tender fondness. 

At least he has Klaus and Ben.

Chapter Text

Five is in the middle of eating a fluffernutter sandwich when Klaus drops an apple down in front of him.

“An apple a day keeps the apocalypse away! Courtesy of Ben so you better eat it, short stack.” Klaus grins, moseying around the kitchen to root through the cupboards.

“You know I’m 58 years old, right Klaus?” Five asks, raising his eyebrow. “I know I’ve mentioned this to you.”

“Oh, pish posh old man. See? That’s not any better. If you’re trying to tell me living in a ruined future without any friends or even worse, hummus, is living? Then you clearly don’t know the meaning of it.” Klaus sighs, hands completely full of any snack foods he could find stashed away in the back of the cupboards.

“Hummus. The source of living. How enlightening.” He mutters in dry amusement, grabbing the apple and rotating it idly in his hand.

It’s not hard for him to admit that having Klaus and Ben around helps him relax, just a little bit. Knowing there are least some people who are willing to hear him out and help makes his job easier...even if one of them is a distracted idiot, and the other one isn’t of the living plane of reality.

He loves them.

“As far as I can tell, you’re just thirteen years old again.” The other man mutters, shoving his hand inside a box of cereal and smashing a handful of it into his mouth. “You juf haff extensive experience of how to kill people.” He chatters with a full mouth, crumbs falling out of it. “I mean that’s not very different than our childhood in the first place though! We already knew how to do that. I guess you have another tier level of sass that you might not have had before.”

Five scoffs, rolling his eyes as he takes a bite of the apple with a satisfying crunch.

“Why do you even like peanut butter with marshmallow? I guess you did used to have a pretty hardcore sweet tooth…” Klaus wonders, accidentally dropping a bag of chips on his way to the table.

“High in calories.” Five says simply.

“You count your calories?” the disheveled man gasps in dramatic horror, scattering all of his chosen picks of food across the table.

“It was an easy choice when I needed quick sustenance.”  He elaborates. “The old man never cared what I ate because I usually threw it up during training. The sandwich was just…something easy at any time to make.” He shrugs.

“Mmmm? Now what does that mean?” Klaus presses, taking a seat on top of the table as he pops open a bag of pretzels.

“If I used my powers too much, sometimes my insides just couldn’t handle the strain of constantly rearranging themselves through time and space so- “Five shrugs. “I’d get sick. Lose my lunch. Then I’d always be forced to eat something high in calories right after so I wouldn’t be out for the rest of the day and then I was back at it.”

“God, he really was such a prick.” Klaus mutters. “I mean you gotta wonder why he took all of us if he didn’t even want us.” He laughs, ending on a long drawn out sigh.

“Gee, maybe to stop an apocalypse.” Five informs him dully, mulling over his apple.

“Hey uh look I- “Klaus starts awkwardly, picking at his nails. “I just wanted to say I know we’re all a liiiitle dysfunctional but-it’s been, well, nice talking to you. Sort of helps me get the edge off without actually, getting the edge off, you know what I mean?” Klaus asks, giving Five a distracted smile while he snaps a pretzel stick in half with his teeth.

Five does understand. It was obvious that Klaus turned to drugs, alcohol, and smoking to help deal with whatever demons that haunt him, literally. Apparently, that only worsened when Ben died. In a way, maybe Klaus is hanging around because it’s helpful for him too. Maybe it helps stave off the loneliness. It makes him feel a bit better that they might both be getting something out of this, even if Five would never directly say it to the other. A little voice whispers that he should try harder for him, to do better by his wayward brother.

He stares at Klaus, allowing his gaze to take in the antsy energy that emanates from his brother in any way possible. Standing up from his seat, Five grabs a knife from the counter. He slices his apple into two halves, offering Klaus the untouched half.

“I feel like Ben would like you to eat something more than just junk foods as well, but you just conveniently didn’t mention that part.” He says, forcing the apple half into the man’s hand as he sits back down.

“Why, this is treason of the highest order!” Klaus declares as he holds up the apple in his hand. “My own brothers conspiring against me.” he whispers dramatically, a smile wobbling onto his face.

“Since when did you two become besties?” they hear voice mutter lightly from behind them.

Diego stands in the entrance to the kitchen with his arms crossed, leaning lightly against the frame. Five levels the man with an unwelcome stare before turning back to his sandwich, refusing to acknowledge the other if he doesn’t need to.

“Since we decided to use your paycheck for breakfast.” Klaus retorts with a lazy laugh, biting into his fruity offering with a loud crunch.

 “That right?” Diego asks in light disbelief, rubbing at his cheek idly.

“Right as rain!” Klaus chirps, shifting into laying on his stomach over the table, winking at Five as he lazily munches on his apple. “Okay, but like-does Marshmallow Fluff exist in the apocalypse?” Klaus asks with his mouth full, content to continue their previous conversation.

“Well, you know how they say twinkie’s have a nonexistent shelf life? Yeah, total bullshit.” Five informs with a bitter frown, taking an agitated bite of his sandwich in karmic retribution.

“No!” Klaus gasps in horrified shock.

“I was just as surprised, I assure you.” Five agrees.

“Look. I just wanted to ask if you’ve seen mom.” The man asks, the silence in the kitchen strained with tension from the previous conversation. “She’s been, a bit out of it.”

“Haven’t seen her.” Klaus sighs.

Five doesn’t answer.

That kitchen is awkward with silence.

“How’d you know about Detective Patch?” Diego asks out of the blue.

Five is going to throw the knife at him and he won’t regret it in the slightest. He’s going to do it, just watch him. If he needs to repeat himself one more time about being from the future, it might actually crack his sanity. Time travel might be hard on the mental process, but his siblings took that to an entirely different level from the way they manage to constantly boggle his mind.

“Because she died-” Five sneers in Diego’s direction. “Trying to do her job properly but she got involved with our family and paid the price. You were so intent on trying to take revenge that you almost became one of the criminals you’re always trying to stop.” He mutters, remembering when Diego even blamed him for her death. “Not that you really had much of a moral scale to begin with.” He mutters casually as an afterthought.

“How exactly did she die?” Diego asks with a dark spark in his eye and a clench of his fist.

Five smiles, eyes hard. “Now, why should that matter? I was just poking my nose into things, that’s why I know her name, right?” He responds harshly, words sharp as steel.

“Ouch.” Klaus wheezes out a giggle.

“Five.” Diego warns.

“Number Two.” Five fires back. “I don’t have time for your questions. In fact, I was just on my way out.” He announces, pushing back his chair and dusting his hands. “So, if you three will excuse me, I have places to be.” He says, giving an amiable nod to Klaus in goodbye.

He needs to get back to Vanya. It’s already been too long since he went back, and they parted on an awkward note. It was his fault. Five hadn’t planned on being away for hours, time just seems to have a habit of creeping up on him in that way. He can certainly blame some of that on the alcohol.

“Three?” Diego mutters to himself.

“Awwww okay buddy. Keep in touch!” Klaus says with a frown, giving him a goodbye twiddle of his fingers. “Maybe I should go dumpster diving while I’m in a productive mood, uh-what do you think?” The man ponders, voice fading as Five walks out of the room.

He leaves the building through the front, enjoying the brisk autumn chill as he takes a deep inhale. Five allows himself to walk, taking in the familiar signs and store fronts that he had always dreamed of seeing again.

“Five.” Diego’s voice cuts through the air.

He sighs in exasperation, turning to face his sibling. “What do you want? I really do have places to be, actual important things to handle.”

Diego clenches his jaw, exhaling forcibly through his nostrils. He always had a hard time not losing his temper around Five’s quips and jabs of snark.

“Was mom okay in your future?” he asks, the question throwing him for a loop. “Did we ever fix-was she-was she ever feeling better?”

Five contemplates his answer.

“I’m not entirely sure, but yes, she seemed to be doing fine later on. Even stitched up a shrapnel wound I had.” He admits. “But she was inside the building when it was destroyed and came down.” Five informs him gently.

Diego processes that slowly, blinking forcibly as he tries to imagine the scenario. “And Vanya did that?” he asks harshly.

“Diego, I have to go.” Five says, shaking his head in exhaustion. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Why are you defending her Five?” Diego interrupts, the wind giving a mournful howl as it blusters through the streets. “How can you defend someone who apparently brings the destruction of the world? God, do you even know what she did to us? It’s because of her that we had an even harder time just trying to grow up and be normal. She threw out all of our secrets to the world in her personal perspective, and expected strangers to understand the things we had gone through. Even you.” Diego smirks bitterly.  “She resents you for leaving, for thinking that you were more important than what you were. She said she wanted to hate you for leaving her alone like that.”

Five’s ears burn hot with humiliation and shame, unable to push down the hurt that always still flashes when his chapter is mentioned. It was fair. It was fair for her to write that. Five himself would never forgive himself for such a cataclysmic mistake. But there were worse things to write, and Five would happily spend the rest of his second childhood making it up to her by being by her side. She had said plenty of god things, mainly good things about him. He is not like them. His hands tremble with anticipation, unable to tell if this will turn into a fight. Five swallows thickly, a flash of raw panic suddenly flooding his veins. These conversations are what keep dooming him. He’s already struck out several times when it mattered. What could he do? What does he say?

“She’s my sister…isn’t that enough?” he asks bluntly, wondering why that's not a good enough answer.

Diego exhales out a scoff. Clearly it isn’t enough then. Five clenches his fists tightly, staring intently at the concrete sidewalk in hurt frustration. He feels small again.

“Haven’t you ever had someone believe in you, Diego?” he asks, a surprised silence urging him to continue. “Someone who believes that you’re better than what yourself, or what others see you as?” He mutters, leveling Diego with a stare. “And even when you start thinking those voices might be right, that one person never gives up on you, because they know you best, even better than yourself.”

His sibling is still silent.

“I am Vanya’s believer.” He claims, putting a hand to his chest. “I know her. I know her because I- “he cuts himself off, closing his eyes for a moment. “-because I love her. Nothing you say, and nothing you do, will change that, Diego. Everything I have done was to get back here, to my family. I know my sister. I know her. She is not ordinary. She is not a monster-” Five declares, feeling his throat tighten with a whirlwind of emotions.

Diego looks lost at what to say, eyes widened in surprise. Five can’t seem to stop now that it’s all out in the open.

“She’s just Vanya with all her faults and her flaws, and that’s good enough for me.” he finishes, his voice a little too loud, trembling with emotions that he isn’t used to expressing.

He takes a deep breath, forcibly straightening out his fingers.

“It should be good enough for you too.”

He turns, sucking in another shaky breath as he leaves Diego on the sidewalk alone. He doesn’t know why he’s blinking back tears that have suddenly sprung to his eyes or that he feels like someone opened him up and exposed him to the world. He continues to walk, the familiarity in these streets causing a pang of homesick despair in his chest even though his home is just a couple paces away. There is so much regret he carries, even with Vanya. So much regret. So much shame. This is his chance to be better for her, to be there when he wasn’t before.

He just wishes the world would stop trying to keep him from doing that.

It’s just branching into the late half of the afternoon when he finally makes it back to Vanya’s apartment complex. The walk did him some good even though the weather is too cold, and the uniform has much to be desired in the way of warmth. He’s stepping into the hallway, not having the courage to simply warp inside this time when they had left on such an awkward note, when his peripheral vision picks up movement. Glancing up quickly, he sees a man walking down the middle of the long hall, stopping in front of Vanya’s apartment door. Five’s breath stutters in his chest, shock firing adrenaline through every single one of his nerves. The man’s eyes widen in recognition as he notices Five at the entrance of the hall, his arm stopping on its journey to knock on Vanya’s door.

Leonard Peabody. Harold Jenkins.

The two stare at each other for an incomprehensible amount of time before Leonard gives him a friendly smile, his arm softly falling back to his side. Five finds himself grinning back widely, white teeth shining as he slowly approaches the man.

“Are you-wow, are you Number Five?” Leonard inquires unassumingly, giving a quirky smile. “Gosh, you look like you walked straight out of a comic book.” He laughs softly.

“That’s me alright.” Five confirms, a dangerous laugh tumbling from his lips.

“I’m about to take my first violin lesson. I know, I know-it seems pretty silly at my age…” He smiles, continuing to chat easily as if he were talking to an old friend.

It’s unbelievable how completely ordinary this man is. Five can see how Leonard downplays his own physical bulk, trying to look smaller and more unassuming than he is. Even the man’s voice is painfully average, using bland language and quirky habits to seem a simpleton with an endearing personality. To seem trustworthy. To seem average.

How convenient that he knew better.

Five lunges with an angry snarl. His fingers dig into the front of the man’s shirt, heaving his weight in rotation to slam him up against the wall with a harsh thud. ‘Leonard’ panics, flailing his arms in confusion as his back hits the wall. The man whimpers at the impact.

“Here’s the deal.” He starts calmly, clutching the man’s shirt tightly in threat. “You’re going to leave. Right. Now. And never come back. If I see you even try and approach Vanya again, then I’m never going to let you have another chance to even think about it. Do you understand?” Five grits out, using all of his self-restraint to not simply behead the man right here in the hall.

Something shifts in Leonard’s gaze. The man looks up him up and down slowly, a mystified smile coming to his face. Five startles when he feels a hand brush along his thigh, Leonard staring at the fabric with an almost awed expression.

“You’re even wearing the classic academy uniform. It’s like all this time you never aged. I bet that’s quite a story.” The man murmurs in apt fascination, eyes flicking up to Five’s face. “Are you close with your sister?” he asks conversationally.

Five backhands him with as much force as he can muster.

He feels sick as he watches the man stumble to the floor, revulsion churning his stomach. Forget it. He’s going to kill this man. His feet automatically start stalking towards his next victim, murder flashing in his eyes when the sound of a lock unlatching draws his ear. A door opens and it’s Vanya who is peeking out into the hallway with concerned brown eyes. They widen when they spot Five standing over a stranger who is kneeling on the floor, clutching their bloodied nose.

Shit.

“Five!” Vanya exclaims in alarm, quickly stepping out into the hall. “I heard your voice and then there was so much noise- I had no idea what was happening. Are you okay?” She breathes, quickly moving to his side and examining him in worry.

“I’m fine.” He assures her, trying to force down the rage pounding through his heart.

He can’t do anything with Vanya around.

“What’s all this? “she starts hesitantly, eying Leonard on the floor trying to stifle the blood flow from his nose.

“Uhm, hello there. I’m your 4 o’clock student.” The man smiles weakly. “I’m so sorry, I think I might have startled your little brother there.”

“No, you didn’t, I just hate you.” Five seethes with vitriol. “I think you might have better luck with a different teacher.” He says in warning, a dangerous smile forming on his lips. “You should leave. Now.”

“Five what did you-“ Vanya starts cautiously, moving to place a hand on Five’s shoulder. “Sir, are you, okay?”

“No, it doesn’t matter Vanya.  I warned you about him, remember?” He says with a frown, looking at his sister with frustrated uncertainty. “That’s Leonard Peabody. He’s the entire reason why-”

“His name is Leonard?” His sister asks, something grave in her eyes as she looks back down at the man.

“Ah, yeah-yeah my name is Leonard, as I said, I um, I’m your 4 o’clock student? I’m really sorry for all of the trouble here, I think when I accidentally brushed by him that he startled.”

“That is not what happened.” Five bites back in agitation.

There’s a weighted silence as Vanya looks from Leonard kneeling pathetically on the floor over to Five.

“Five I-I think you should go wait inside the apartment.” Vanya asks softly, looking at him with something akin to sad resignation.

What?

“No. No, Vanya you don’t understand. This is Leonard Peabody! I told you about him, I warned you this morning, don’t you remember at all? This is the man responsible for triggering the end of the world!” he insists, only earning a stressed sigh from his sister.

“I’m-I’m so sorry Leonard. My brother is-he’s going through a really hard time right now.” Vanya says, guilt in her eyes.

“Vanya.” Five exhales breathlessly, betrayal humming through his core.

“Look I-I’ll pay if you need to go to the hospital, or anything you need. I’m so sorry about this.” She says, moving closer to the man.

“Oh, it’s okay. Believe me, I understand, truly I do.” Leonard smiles weakly, showing false empathy in his beady eyes, his gaze flicking over to Five.

“Vanya!” Five shouts, grabbing her arm. “You promised you wouldn’t! After everything, you promised!” he grits out, desperation lining his tone and turning to simpler strings of rationale instead of logic.

“Five I can’t just be a bystander while you hurt other people and- “

“Not others, just him!”

“-random strangers because- “

“He’s not a stranger Vanya, I told you his name!” Five spews in angry disbelief.

How could she not believe him? How could she just break her promise like this?

“-because of your trauma!” Vanya exclaims finally, and he’s struck with such surprise that it roots him in place.

“Five, you-you need help. You’re displacing. You must have seen his name on my list of students for lessons today, and your mind attached itself to that. It’s…it’s a way to deal with trauma and PTSD, thinking that there’s a bigger plot in play and latching onto specific things that make you feel like you have control.” She informs him sadly, her gentle eyes looking heartbroken on his behalf.

There’s a dull ringing in his ears.

She didn’t believe him. She never believed him. She thinks he’s traumatized and that he’s saying these things as a way of badly coping with it. She agreed to an empty promise having no intention of carrying it out because she thinks it holds no merit.

“Vanya.” He exhales helplessly, lost at what to even say.

He never considered that his own sister would think him broken.

He backs up from the two, numbly looking at her before turning to move into the apartment. The door stays open as he blankly moves to sit down. Five can hear their voices reverberating softly in the hallway, slightly muffled by the walls.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Peabody. As I said, I can help pay for anything.”

“Oh no, really, it’s alright. I’ve…had my own fair share of difficulties from a rough childhood. Believe me when I say I understand and I wish him the very best. He seems so frightened.”

“Is that right? I-I guess it’s obvious to say that I’ve been there too.”

“I wouldn’t have known. Oh! But maybe there is one thing you can do to make it up to me, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh I-of course. Anything at all.”

“Re-schedule the lesson? I really would love to learn the violin from you Miss Vanya.”

“You’d still want lessons from me? I'm not sure Mr. Peabody, I don't know if-”

“I think this only made me want them more if that’s okay to say. You seem like a real genuine person, very kind. I'd love for you to be my teacher.”

“That’s, very kind of you Mr. Peabody. I really can’t thank you enough for understanding and not pressing charges. It's just been a hard couple of days...”

“Oh not at all, like I said, I really hope he’ll be okay. Oh! Here. My number. And please, call me Leonard.”

He stares blankly at the floor, eyes unseeing as the conversation patters out. Everything he has done is for nothing. Every single time he’s tried to open his mouth and talk in this time line, it has backfired on him with failure. But this, this is the true end game mistake. He wants to scream, throw things, and break down all at the same time. Instead there’s simply a dull resignation that aches in his bones, an emptiness that has cocooned over him like a lost lover.

“Five.” Vanya’s voice rings with guilt as she steps inside, softly closing the door behind her. "I'm-I'm sorry. Look, I know this is confusing but-"

He dully looks up at her, still unable to say anything at all. What is there to say? It’s all over. If he tries to intervene, she will only end up resenting him like her other siblings, which was the spark that caused the apocalypse in the first place. That bitter resentment. That darkness. He would be just another person trying to tell her that her choices are wrong, that she’s wrong. Even if it's for her own good. For her own safety. For her own happiness.

Closing his eyes in shame, he gets up from the chair. She tells him to stop, calls for him to sit down and stay, that they can figure it out. He turns into the warp he creates like a lonely embrace, disappearing in a blue light.

He’s failed everything.

Chapter Text

Klaus was hoping Five would have come back to the house at some point to keep him company. After wasting a good amount of time loitering around the house, stealing his family’s food, and getting in a little nap on the chaise, he decided to be productive. He spent a good hour or so digging through the dumpster and the area around it with a slowly growing dread. The papers he threw away from dear old dad’s special fancy box are nowhere to be found. Pogo claims they are of the utmost importance, though he can’t say he understands what that means since Reginald is dead as a doorknob anyways. What was written in those documents that would be so important that Pogo would give him a free pass for stealing if they were just returned to him?

At least he can just claim deniability. After all, no one was there to see him do it, right?

After being bullied by Ben into taking a shower and dressing into a passably okay smelling outfit, he can feel the cold desire begin to envelop him. It always starts with the feet and travels up his body, almost like goosebumps. The urge to get high and be transported somewhere else but here only grows. He exhales, taking a deep drag of his cigarette as he stands outside, leaning against the corner of his childhood house. This whole, 'replacing bad coping habits with sibling bonding time' thing was something that he was actually enjoying. Five, as exasperated as he always was, never actually disregarded what Klaus said. Sure, his baby brother would snark or pepper him with light insults, but Klaus knows it was Five’s own way of awkward showing he cares. If he’s getting retorts and discussions, that means Five is always actively listening to him.

Klaus never feels forgotten around him.

He huffs out a quiet laugh, watching his air visibly curl and fade in the cold air. Only issue about withdrawal is that it’s always there. It doesn’t seem to ever go away, and Five isn’t here to passively converse with him tonight.

“Where’s my fix when I need it.” He complains dryly.

“Stop that. You know he’s probably checking on Vanya.” Ben chides, leveling Klaus with an amused smile.

“Well can he check in on me now? I did productive things today!” Klaus whines back. “Besides, maybe he’ll know how to help with the uh…you know. The whole…” he gestures with his hand vaguely. “Confidential document thing.” He whispers conspiratorially.

“Definitely a better choice than Luther.” Ben agrees.

Oh god, Luther would probably punch him so hard that his head would completely spin around on his body if the guy knew precious papers written by father dearest were in the trash. He winces, sucking in another drag of his cigarette. His body feels antsy, pent up with needy energy that he can’t get rid of without a high. The voices that whisper in his head make him itchy.

“Well-Well look, I’d say I deserve a reward. I mean I did what I said I’d do today.” Klaus reasons, scratching at his cheek.

“No Klaus. You don’t need it.”

“Ohoho I think I really do need it.” He protests.

The sun was set, his dealer would be out on the regular stoop. He could just mosey on by for a quick little hello.

“Klaus.” Ben frowns, disappointment in his dark eyes.

“Why did I get stuck with the morally righteous sibling?” he groans, staring up at the sky for a moment. “Look man I’ve-I’m trying okay! For the most part.” He sighs.

“And you’re actually doing pretty well. So why don’t you try a little harder and just go clean?” his ghostly sibling asks with that logical tone that Klaus hates so much. “I bet Five would approve too.”

“Fine fine! God.” Klaus snaps, dropping his cigarette onto the concrete and grinding it into the pavement with his foot. “If you love Five so much why don’t you just marry him?” he mocks childishly.

There’s an awkward pause.

“Dude, no, why.” Ben groans, running a hand down his face.

“Okay look-shit yeah I didn’t actually mean-just disregard that it was supposed to be a-” Klaus winces, trying to ignore the incestuous undertones he had just implied. “Yeah-just really ignore that.”

Not all of his jokes can be zingers.

"Besides, we’ll leave that to Luther and Allison.”

Klaus chokes on a startled laugh, looking at his brother with a bewildered grin. “You’ve got jokes! Where have those been hiding all this time?” he laughs.

The tentative good mood is broken when a cab stops in front of the building. A harried Vanya steps out, looking wrought with anxiety and worry. She quickly makes her way forward, clutching her jacket tightly around her as she hurries to go inside of the house. The womans stops and does a double take when she sees Klaus outside hanging around the front.

“Klaus-Have-have you seen Five? Is he inside by chance?” she asks, a desperate hope lingering in her brown eyes.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Nooo dearest sister, I in fact, wagered he might with you!” he claims, his tentative good mood suddenly sinking to a low.

Vanya exhales, resting a hand just above her forehead in stress. “Well, do you think he might be inside, that he came in when you were out here and didn’t see him?” she asks insistently.

Klaus frowns, giving her a general shrug. “Suuuure, maybe. He comes and goes as he pleases, and not always through the front door.”

Though if he avoided Klaus on purpose that was just a dick move. Vanya nods, quickly rerouting her path up the stairs and into the building.

“That seems…bad.” Ben chimes in hesitantly.

“I completely agree, brother of mine.” Klaus mutters back, watching her form disappear inside. “Something doesn’t feel right about that.”

He follows her in, giving a casual smile that belies the slow curling dread in his stomach as she makes her way up the many spirals of stairs with quick steps.

“Five?” Vanya calls, eventually opening the door to his room.

It’s empty.

“Five?” she calls again with more desperation, looking around as she steps into her sibling's room.

“And uh-what exactly do you need our baby brother for?” Klaus asks curiously, eyes shifting for any sight that Five had been here recently.

“No no, please he has to be here.” She murmurs, the exhale of her breath catching on a worried cry.

“Vanya.” Klaus frowns, stepping in front of her path as she exits the room. “What’s going on huh?” he asks, the serious tone conveying his genuine concern.

“I- “she exhales deeply. “I broke a promise to him even though…even though I was right to. But I did in a way that really-that really hurt him. I just need to find him and apologize. I know we can figure it out, I just-I was stressed and I should have tried to still be more supportive even though I couldn’t let him hurt a random stranger- “she trails off, looking at Klaus with regret in her eyes. “Please, has he been here at all? It’s been hours and hours since he left and now it’s dark and-“

“No. I haven’t seen him since he left in the afternoon.” Klaus interrupts with grim finality.

“I don’t like this Klaus.” Ben says softly, watching as Vanya quickly turns around to dig in her coat pocket, pulling out a prescription bottle and dry swallowing a pill for her anxiety. “Something’s wrong.”

Now look, Klaus is fully aware that his brother can handle himself. Hell, he’s seen that time and time again in the span of a day or two. Except, when it comes to Five taking care of himself that is. But ultimately, his brother does what he wants. A small part of him wonders if Five is just missing in action because he’s doing his 'save the world' thing or walking to let himself think without all of his obnoxious siblings around. He just wishes a bigger part of him feels that way, because the majority of him is just plain worried. He doesn’t know what it is, but there’s just something about this that is making him feel cold.

“Maybe he’s just letting off some steam! You know, breaking bones, drinking booze, and...all that good stuff.” Klaus grins, feeling Vanya’s anxiety rub off onto him.

She clearly doesn’t know judging by the confused expression.

“Okay okay look-Vanya. Five uh-Five really cares about you alright? If anyone is going to make a mistake and be forgiven, it’ll be you.” He smiles awkwardly, attempting to reassure his anxious sister.

“No, you don’t understand Klaus I just-you should have seen his face. The look in his eye I just-I’ve never seen…I should have stopped talking-should have just told Leonard that I’d call him later and focused on Five then- “

Klaus does not like the sound of that.

“Leonard?” Klaus interrupts, eyes widening in light recognition.

“What? Yeah there was this guy-Leonard. Five told me to stay away from him because of…certain things he saw during his time traveling. And I was trying to support him by agreeing, but I realized I was only enabling his behavior. He needs help-I just-I should have handled the whole situation better.” She breathes, tucking a strand of brown hair nervously behind her ear.

“But you met someone named Leonard?” Klaus presses, a disbelieving smile forming on his lips.

“He was a new student."

"What a coincidence."

“You don’t think that’s just sort of…a strange coincidence?”

Vanya shakes her head. “I have a list of students I write down on my schedule. He must have seen it earlier when he slept over and latched onto it. I…I’ve been there Klaus. I’ve done the things he’s done. A way to cope with a lot of bad stuff that’s happened. With trauma. I’m just so worried about him, I didn’t mean to push him away. God, I should have just done better and now who knows where he could be. I just-I messed up.”

Klaus feels angry. In fact, he can say that he feels downright pissed off.

“I’ll say.” He laughs harshly, feeling himself grind his teeth together in agitation.

“Don’t take it out on her Klaus.” Ben sighs, watching the two with conflict.

“Well why fucking not?” he snaps, twirling around and moving towards the stairs. “Five is just missing in action for hours apparently after being told off by Vanya of all people. I think I’m allowed to be a little concerned!”

“I’m concerned too.” Vanya says, hurt lacing her voice as she follows Klaus back down the stairs.

He doesn’t apologize, even if he wasn’t talking to her.

Five could be drinking somewhere out of house and home, though how, is the question. No bar would serve him obviously, he’s a kid. Would he resort to stealing? What if some of those weird swat people came back and are trying to hunt him down? Shit, Five could be literally anywhere in the city and Klaus doesn’t even have an idea of where his brother could be.

He wished Five had come to him.

“Why didn’t he come to us?” Ben asks softly, the concern in his voice palpable even through the veil of death. “We would have…we would have been there for him. He knows that right? He trusts us by now to at least know we’d be there for him if he was hurting…” his brother says sadly, apparently thinking the same things Klaus is.

“Hey you two, what’s going on?” Allison calls out to them as they move onto the main floor.

She’s in the process of hanging up the house phone as they approach, turning to look at them in confused anticipation. Looks like someone has family issues as a wife, and as a sibling! Two for one package, how lucky.

“Heeeey Allison, you haven’t happened to have seen our smallest brother, have you?” Klaus greets with a tense grin.

“Five?” Allison frowns.

“We really need to find him.” Vanya urges softly.

No. Klaus needs to find him. Ben can come too, but everyone else isn’t welcome as far as he’s concerned. They're all canceled. It had been hard enough to get Five to even smile once at him, and he’s not going to let his shitty dysfunctional siblings ruin all of that progress for him.

“No, sorry.” The older woman says. “What’s going on?”

“I just-I blew up at him in a way that didn't help anyone. I told him I couldn’t stand around and let him hurt people because of his…because of how he’s handling his trauma. He just-he thinks someone called Leonard is a trigger for the end of the world I mean- “she sighs. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell him otherwise.”

Allison is silent for a moment. “Leonard Peabody?”

“He told you?” Vanya asks with a frown.

“He told all of us Vanya.” Allison says with a raise of her eyebrow. “He said we had to protect you from some guy. I mean-obviously it’s a bit hard to believe.” She laughs softly, but it doesn’t hold any humor in it. "But he seemed...very genuine."

“Yeah, you know what? Just, throwing this out there, but I’m pretty sure one of the first things he said was something about preventing the apocalypse. We were all there when he said it that first day he came back, right?” Klaus present, gesturing his hands in an open motion.

“What are you saying, Klaus?” Allison frowns. “You don’t actually believe that, right? Luther even said that time travel- “

“Oh my goooddd.” Klaus groans, turning around and walking away from them mid-sentence. “You all just suck, so much, so I’m leaving now.”

“I know that it’s a bit hard to believe, but I wish sometimes I was corporeal just so I could punch a wall in frustration.” Ben mutters bitterly as Klaus moves back into the parlor and opens the door to step outside.

“It’s not that hard to believe! That’s what’s worse.” Klaus exclaims, flinging his hands upwards in confusion. “Sometimes they act like they are so disconnected from their life as if they didn’t grow up kicking butt and being surrounded by superhero siblings! Like ooo big deal, we’re adults, well that doesn’t mean this shit just goes away!”

He resists the urge to light another cigarette, letting the brisk chill ground him into taking some calming breaths.

“But where do you think he went Klaus?” Ben asks after some moments of silence, his voice betraying a raw worry that only ever shows itself when it comes to Five’s wellbeing.

“I have…no fucking idea, Ben.” Klaus says sadly, swallowing down the worry that’s currently gnawing at his heart. “Maybe nothing’s wrong and he’s just taking a…four hour walk or something. He can handle himself. He's our small bad ass.”

“But Vanya-"

“God don’t you think I know?” he exclaims in spastic energy. “I do know! I know how much that would have hurt him, even if he wouldn’t have said so! I know Ben!”

Another pause.

“Well…you know what we promised to him. Even if he’s okay, maybe we should just…try anyways and look for him. I know that’s what you want to do, and you know that’s what I want to do.”

Klaus exhales shakily.

“Yeah, okay. Okay let’s try, then. Where to first?”

------

It's quiet when Five comes to with a throbbing ache in the back of his head. The first thing he feels is the surprising lack of physical feeling in his body. Everything feels strange and muddled as if he has cotton in his brain or he’s drifting underwater. His head is heavy, and he can’t seem to find the strength to lift it from its lolling position. It's dark.

“No no no, don’t try to move. I’m working.” Coos a familiar voice.

There’s a steady slicing sound from a knife carving through hard material. He tries to move anyways but his limbs feel like lead, uncooperative with his body. The only thing Five can figure out in this situation so far is that he’s sitting on a chair, and he can’t seem to move anything at all. A good-natured sigh rings out into the small room followed by a small thud of something wooden being set down. Then, there’s suddenly a gentle hand on his jaw, supporting it as the fingers tilt his chin upwards.

“Go on. You’ll be able to open your eyes with some concentration.” The voice urges gently, patiently.

Something about it makes Five involuntarily shudder. Mustering what strength he can find, eventually his eyes flicker open. His vision blurs harshly out of focus, everything a swirl of vertigo and disorientation. The thumb on the side of his jaw caresses his cheek lightly, almost trying to show support of his effort to understand what’s happening. His vision focuses enough to make out the softly smiling face of a man looming over him, everything finally clicking into place.

Leonard Peabody. Harold Jenkins.

Five tries to pull away, but the disorientation in his mind doesn’t allow him to do anything but groan in light confusion and shift slightly. He doesn't even know how this happened, his memory just as disoriented as his body is. How did he get here? What happened? Where is he?

“Sorry. Had to take precautions, you know how it is. I have to say, I’m so glad we met today. You were always one of my favorites as a child. Imagine my luck getting to meet two Umbrella Academy members in one day.” Leonard smiles amiably, the casualness of his stance contradicting the current situation.

The man gently retracts his hand, moving back over to his own chair. It’s seated directly across from Five though it’s in another room, with Leonard looking in. Five’s body trembles with strain, just trying to keep his head up to examine the scenario in front of him.

“It’s okay Five, you can rest some more.” Leonard encourages softly, his friendly unassuming face actually being the most horrific thing about the man. “We’ll have lots of time to get to talk. You know, your father wrote some incredibly interesting things about you in his notes, it really is just…just extraordinary.”

The man picks up where he left off by grabbing his woodcarving knife, casually etching into the wooden figure as he hums.

It looks like Five.

He shudders.

Chapter Text

“You know, I never got along with my dad either, Five.” Leonard says after an unknown amount of time woodcarving.

Five looks up from his dizzy attempts at trying to focus. Though it feels like some of the fog has cleared, he still can’t manage to make his body respond to him. He’s been fading in and out of a strange muddled state for who knows how long.

He must have been drugged with something.

The man puts down his tools, giving him a sympathetic smile. Eventually he drags his chair closer to Five, though he’s still sitting in the other room. The man has a journal, a manifest of some sort that he starts turning the pages of. It has the initials of his father on it.

“Ah, here it is.” Leonard mutters, stopping on one of the pages and clearing his throat. “By all accounts, Number Five seems to possess the most individual thought out of all of the students. Certain numbers are much easier to contain and restructure than others. Number One eagerly thrives on simple praise from his mentors, and Number Two, though he has a penchant for foul moods, is easily subdued by a kind maternal figure. Number Three is swayed by that of a more materialistic and narcissistic pursuit, while Number Four simply exists to find distraction in the mundane. Number Six, due to the unpredictability of his dark gift, must be ranked higher along the scale simply due to the unknown. Number Seven of course must also be ranked accordingly due to the raw unconstrained power she possesses and cannot control.

Leonard looks up. “Is that true? Were you actually ranked on how easy it could be to mold you into his vision?” he asks casually. 

Five doesn’t answer.

The man looks back down at the book, smiling in mystified awe. “Number Five however, seems to hold such a strong individual will, that at times, seems to exist only as a way to test my methods and fortitude. No other student has the audacity to even look me in the eye, but Number Five’s arrogance seems to challenge me every day.”

Five exhales, his fists slowly clenching and releasing. Hearing Leonard read notes that had been directly written by his father created a mixture of emotions that he didn’t want to even try and decipher right now. He needs to escape. He needs to get out of here.

“How…did you even get that?” he asks, his voice sluggish and slightly slurred.

Even talking is a challenge. He hates this.

“I found them. Looks like your brother wasn’t interested in such information since he threw it in a dumpster but I have to say, this was quite a find. It’s sort of like the ultimate collector’s edition. It's not like it was stolen, since it was discarded as garbage. One man's trash is another man's treasure and all that as they say.” He laughs amiably. “Oh look. Here’s another interesting bit.” Leonard says with barely hidden excitement, leaning down to look more intently at the page.

“In every aspect, Number Five could have been my greatest success. The fortitude in which he trains, and the dedication to which he pushes the boundaries of his body are ideal in comparison to any other of the students. It is a great shame that his arrogant thoughts of grandeur have tainted an otherwise model vessel. No amount of physical punishment, exhaustive training sessions, or even simple mind methods seem to break his insufferable will- “Leonard trails off, glancing back up at Five. “He actually physically abused you?”

Five says nothing, clenching his jaw tightly. He didn’t need to talk to this man. He didn’t need to tell him a single thing about his life or how his father had treated him. Time travel hadn’t been just an idea to test. He wanted so badly to claim he was ready, because he had needed to be ready. He had been desperate to be ready. Desperate to escape.

Desperate to run.

“It is perhaps incredibly fortunate then, by some instance, that Number Five is so emotionally attached to his siblings.” Leonard continues to read.

Five slowly glances up in surprise.

“Though it is subtle, the lengths Number Five will go to for his siblings should not go unnoticed. The wellbeing of their status has been the only thing that has shown a modicum of success to manipulate him in where I need him to be. He has regularly been seen moving in and out of Number Six and Seven’s rooms during the day, and in even higher numbers after curfew. There has also been note of time-space activity during Number Four’s aptitude training at the mausoleum. See incident 0.04, The Jenkins Event.  Since then, efforts have been made to train Number Four and Five at the same time so Number Five will not interfere with vital training. It is a shame that Number Six and Seven are too unstable that I cannot use them more often to help tame Five’s will.”

His father had known all this time? He blinks forcibly, not understanding anything he is going through right now. The drugs have physically numbed him and warped his head into a foggy mist, but he could feel the emotions burning a hole into his heart. It hurts. 

“Wow, that’s a lot to take in.” The man says softly, turning a kind pitying gaze with empty eyes onto Five. “I uh-I never got along with my dad either Number Five, like I said. Dads…they just don’t always understand I guess, huh? That’s just another thing we have in common.” He says softly.

Five tugs lightly at the thick rope bindings behind his back, his wrists straining.

“Harold Jenkins. I’m going to-kill you.” He eventually grits out, glaring at the man. “And when I get out of here, I’m- “he inhales deeply, trying to work his jaw collaborate. “I’m, going to make sure that it will not be clean.”

He doesn’t expect a backhand in response. It sparks a flare of pain in his cheek that electrifies down his entire body. Leonard stares at him for a moment with a hard frown as he looms, stretching out the hand he just used to hit Five with.

“No. No no I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Leonard apologizes quickly afterward, reaching out with the same hand to soothingly touch Five’s cheek. “I’m sorry Number Five. I let my emotions get the better of me. I’m just a human being after all.” He smiles ruefully. “I promise I won’t hurt you like that again.” The man says calmly, soothingly.

Five can only breath harshly through his nostrils, trying to inhale through the pain and emotional whiplash from the other man. This is nothing. Child’s play. His pain tolerance being back to age thirteen is an inconvenient issue, but his mental fortitude wouldn’t crumble. It won’t crumble.

“You must already be in so much pain, knowing that Vanya doesn’t trust you. I didn’t mean to add to that.” Leonard’s calm voice breaks through his thoughts.

Vanya.

Five breathes, trying to dig down and find the powers that normally come so naturally to him. He can feel it there, dormant, lingering, but can’t seem to find the strength to access it. Every time he gets close, his vision blurs or the world tilts unexpectedly. Whatever Leonard drugged him with, the man chose the right thing.

“Why-are you doing this.” Five blurts, figuring getting Leonard to keep rambling would at least give him time to figure out what to do.

“I just need you out of the way for a little bit Number Five. I can help Vanya look for you, soothe her worries. Us ordinary people need to stick together, and I just can’t have you interfering like that.” Leonard lectures casually.

“Don’t call her that.” Five rasps angrily.

Silence.

“Your father, rejected me back in the day. He told me as a child, I was just a child, that I don’t have any power. He told me, that I’d never have power.” Leonard explains, giving a small breathy laugh. “But even ordinary people can do extraordinary things, Number Five. And even extraordinary people…” Leonard trails off, giving Five a quick once over.

“…can be affected by ordinary weaknesses.”

Five closes his eyes, a lonely resignation slowly pooling in his stomach. He tugs feebly at his hands behind his back again, wondering how it had even come to this. The rope’s coarse texture scrapes against the healing cut on his palm, sending another throb of pain down his spine.

“You’re actually in my woodworking store right now. It’s not an ideal place for a visitor to stay, but we’ll move to my house when it gets a little later in the evening. It’s still a bit too early, lots of people outside enjoying the night life. Luckily for now I have curtains and a closed sign.” Leonard chuckles casually. “People would think I’m crazy if they just saw me chatting to no one, not knowing you’re in this room, you know?”

“Harold-” He bites out, struggling to continue speaking.

His body is trembling and he can’t control it, small tremors wracking his limbs as he drops his head weakly with a weak huff. He curses himself internally, this lack of control one of his greatest fears. How can he possibly try and figure a way out to escape if he can’t even think straight? If he can’t even move the way he needs to?

“Shhh Number Five. You shouldn’t try to fight it.” Leonard soothes, standing up from his seat as he closes the book.

Five feels a hand petting his hair comfortingly and his body gives another involuntary shudder for an entirely different reason.

“And please, call me Leonard. I really prefer it. Is there a name you would prefer to go by?” the man asks considerately. “Seems like your siblings all have one now.”

Five doesn’t answer.

Leonard turns away from him eventually, grabbing his chair and bringing it back to his work table. He plucks the wooden figure he had been carving up to examine it, glancing to Five every so often before turning back to compare. Five presses his cut palm into the rope, rubbing his scabbed skin against it. The cut reopens easily having been new, and he can feel fresh blood suddenly run down his hand and onto the bindings. It stings, but if he can’t escape his traditional way, then he’ll escape using the old-fashioned method. Decades of experience didn’t leave him without knowledge. Using his blood to create a lubricant for his hands is one he hasn’t had to use just yet though.

First time for everything.

 ------

“Klaus.”

“Je-esus!” Klaus shouts, hand flinging to his heart as Diego comes up behind him on the sidewalk. “Holy shit man, warn a guy!” he complains.

“What are you doing?”

Klaus purses his lips. “I’m trying.”

Diego raises an eyebrow, shifting his weight to one side as he crosses his arms. “And what does that mean in your language?”

“It means that unlike all of you shitty people, I’m actually going to give a fuck for once and look for our tiny sibling.” He grins. “Why, what are you doing? Stalking me! An innocent man just walking down the sidewalk for no reason!”

Diego sighs. “Look, you wanna check out this Peabody dude or what?” he offers, running a gloved hand through the side of his hair.

Klaus pauses, turning to fully face his sibling in curiosity. “What?”

“He owns a shop just down in Bricktown. Thought we could scour the area quick.”

“Well that’s convenient.” Ben chimes in confusion.

“Very convenient. Too convenient.” Klaus mutters, squinting at his sibling with caution. “What’s this all about Diego? Did you really come hunt me down on the street to ask me if I wanted to take a joyride with you?” he asks in light bewilderment.

The man huffs out a scoff, rubbing at his forehead in agitation. It just doesn’t make sense is all. It’s not like Klaus wants to say no, but he doesn’t understand the sudden change of heart coming from one of his most bull-headed brothers. Sure, Klaus hasn’t been doing great on his search alone, but that doesn’t mean he necessarily wants to do it with anyone else either.

“Look, Klaus. I know you’re close with him. So if he’s out drinking, or doing shit and doesn’t wanna come home, I need you to help convince him to. I highly doubt he’ll wanna hear anything from me.” Diego explains with begrudging confession.

Klaus blinks.

“Oh my god.” Klaus breathes in epiphany. “You want me to convince him to come home! Me! Because he’ll beat your ass if he doesn’t want to do what you say, and you know it, so you need me!” he laughs.

“Oh my god, you’re right.” Ben smiles. “He’ll get his ass kicked and he knows it.”

“Look!” Diego snaps. “I figured we could help each other out, so cut your shit! I help keep the streets clean, and in return I can help you at least check out Peabody’s stupid wood shop because you believe in that apocalypse shit!”

“Why is he offering at all to check? If anything wouldn’t he just say you both win because Five would be safe?” Ben wonders in contemplation.

Well, today is just full of surprises isn’t it?

“Oh…ohh you believe Five too.” Klaus whispers, a wide smile forming on his lips.

Diego clenches his jaw.

“You do, you believe him! Oh Diego, my long lost brother you’ve returned to us at last!” he wails dramatically, bouncing up and down on the soles of his feet in elation.

Thank god not all of his siblings were cancelled!

“Just get in the fucking car.” Diego barks, stalking around to his side of the vehicle.

Klaus complies with utter elation.

“I was on my way to Griddy’s! I think we should check there first.” He says as he settles into the back seat of the car, slamming the door shut.

“Why?” Diego asks, turning his key into the ignition.

“He likes coffee, like loves it. And breakfast. Maybe he just wanted some comfort food after…” Klaus trails off, nibbling at his lip as he stares out the window.

“Vanya?” Diego smiles dryly. “God, if that’s not the definition of ironic I don’t know what is.” He mutters, pulling out from side of the road he had parked on.

“What’s ironic?”

Diego shakes his head. “Nothing. Forget it.”

Klaus wishes he had a cigarette about now. The neon sign of Griddy’s Dougnuts comes into view soon enough as Diego pulls into the barren parking lot. Looks like another slow night. He shoves open the door, shutting it with a distracted push as he tries to peek inside for his brother. The two brothers head inside, a small bell jingling as Diego opens the door.

“I must say Agnes, you make a mean jelly-filled doughnut.” A portly man compliments kindly to the waitress as he sits at the diner counter.

The waitress laughs in return, seemingly charmed at the patron’s kind behavior. Klaus immediately wanders over to where him and Five sat last time, a pang of disappointment filling him when his brother is nowhere to be found. Diego stands stiffly in the entrance, scanning the entire area of the diner with one hawk-like sweep of his eyes. They both startle when a door bangs open further back, a woman in a sharp navy blue suit exiting out of the restroom with an exasperated frown.

“Nothin’.” she says with a clipped tone, moving over to stand by the man eating the doughnut.

“Oh, it’s you again!” the waitress, Agnes, greets kindly, giving Klaus a small wave. “How are you doing today? I hope your brother is feeling better, I was so worried.”

Klaus forces out a smile, moseying up to the diner counter. “He’s just so splendid thank you. In fact, my dear brother standing over there and I thought he might even be here, because he loved everything you made yesterday!”

Agnes puts a hand to her heart, humbly touched.

“Oh you boys are so sweet. I have to say when you dragged him in here and I saw some of that blood on his collar and hands I was a fright nervous.”

“Ohh no no, just-just hyplo…”

“Hypoglycemia.”

“Hypoglycemia! It really does ya wrong when you least expect it.” He sighs.

"Never heard someone physically bleeding out because of low blood sugar." the man chewing the doughnut mutters.

Klaus grins wide.

“He hasn’t happened to have come in here tonight by chance, has he?”

“Oh, not that I can remember dear, I’m sorry. It’s been a slow night so I would have remembered a familiar face, especially as cute as a button as your little brother.” She laughs sweetly. “Well, gosh, it must just...be the perfect day to go out and have fun without a care if both of you are looking for someone. Is the weather that nice?” Agnes asks, smiling at both Klaus and the man at the counter.

Klaus meets the man’s tired grey eyes curiously. The man gives a simple quirk of a smile before finishing off his doughnut. He seems nice.

“You could say that.” The man answers.

“Hazel. We should go.” The woman interrupts.

The man, Hazel, groans out a long-suffering sigh. Klaus watches him eventually stand, holding an aching wrist and rubbing circles into it with a purse of his lips. Hazel eyes his empty plate with a longing gaze before dropping his wrist and giving a nod, looking entirely too resigned. He must not be getting paid very well.

“Back to the grind then. Thank you for the doughnut Agnes, maybe I’ll have to…come back and try a couple more sometime.”

“Oh, you should if you’d like Hazel…there are so very many flavors to try.” Agnes says with a tentative smile, smoothing down her apron softly.

The suited woman rolls her eyes, already on her way to walk out. As she passes Klaus, he’s bombarded with a multitude of voices that are suddenly everywhere at once. They wail, they scream, they sob, they beg to him. He blinks forcefully, trying to push the torrent of them all down and not be overwhelmed by the sudden horrific onslaught.

“Good luck finding your brother.” Hazel says politely to Klaus with a nod, dusting off his sugary fingers on his pants as he follows the woman out.

“Oh-oh yeah uh-uh thanks. You too.” He mutters distractedly, the world suddenly silent again.

Klaus slowly turns around to stare after the two with cautious dread, feeling cold sweat bead along his brow. He finds the woman is staring back at him. Their eyes meet.

Hers look as cold and dead as the ghosts that follow him.

Eventually the stranger turns back around, opening the door with a jingle and moving outside, the man trailing after her at a more haggard pace.

“What was that?” Ben whispers. "Are you okay?"

He hasn’t the slightest idea what to say to either of those questions, but he feels like whatever just happened is somehow important. Diego levels him with an impatient look across the diner, still crossing his arms near the entrance. Clearly Five isn’t here.

Klaus feels like he’s missing something.

Chapter Text

It’s been hours.

Whatever Leonard gave him must be wearing off, either that or the pain is helping to him focus on the present. Whatever it is, Five won’t take it for granted. He’s been slowly tugging at his restraints, not hesitating to try smear blood onto his wrists and hands as much as he can around the coarse rope and limitations he’s been given.

It’s still not enough. Not just yet.  

Leonard has been in and out of the shop, talking casually with him as if he was simply a friend visiting for a cup of tea for the evening. Currently the man is seated back at the work bench, sanding down the figure he’s made in Five’s likeness. The room is silent except for the soft sound of sandpaper scratching against the wood, and the occasional city sounds that are muffled from outside world.

“You know what, maybe I’m not looking at this in the right way, Five.” Leonard muses, breaking the silence of the scene.

Leonard sets down the sandpaper, turning to look at Five with an analyzing gaze. The man gets up, dragging his chair a bit closer again to sit across from him, presenting wooden figure for Five’s inspection. Leonard’s smile grows wider as he holds it up in pride, but his eyes seem to be lacking any genuine warmth inside of them.

“What do you think? I’d say that’s pretty accurate to you right? I felt inspired.”

It is unfortunately accurate, but the wooden figure’s pose itself is what draws his unwilling attention. The carving is of him in a running action pose, only one foot touching the ground as it presents itself in a desperate but graceful sprint. The figure is staring up, one of his hands reaching out in front of him to something unknown, hand open in desperate longing.

“I feel like in a way this captures your essence. You were strong, but in the end, you ran away from everything you had to endure. Your abusive life. I understand that you know. You wanted to re-create yourself. I did that too. People like us, we have to do what we have to do”

He inhales, fighting down a shudder. He’s killed hundreds of people. He’s endured hell on earth. He’s battled isolation and insanity for most of his life. But this. This is a game he has never had to play before. This sort of mental manipulation and emotional whiplash is something he didn’t even deal with when Reginald was alive.

“I am nothing like you.” Five seethes, leveling Leonard with a glare.

“You don’t need to be like that, Five. I know you’re upset but…” Leonard chides, leaning back in his seat. “Did it hurt that Vanya didn’t believe you?” he asks gently, a sympathetic frown pulling at his lips.

No.

Yes.

Yes, it did. It does.

“Now, I don’t know about the end of the world or anything like what you were saying to her this afternoon...but you did know my full name, and you mentioned I’d try and manipulate her. I can’t deny I was hoping to get to know her with a hope that I might be able to spread a bit of a…message. Is that a byproduct of your time traveling?” Leonard wonders, turning from his seat to meander back to his workstation.

Five looks up, staring at the man’s back in shock. He’s silent as Leonard grabs Reginald’s journal again, flicking quickly through the pages as if he already knows exactly what he is looking for. Leonard hums in a small victory, returning back to his seat with the book. He gives Five a sympathetic smile before he puts his finger to the page and clears his throat.

“Number Five has finally run away. It started at an average mealtime, but today it was very obvious Five’s usual ire towards me could not be contained as usual. He demanded once again that he was ready for time travel. He was not. He will likely never be, not that this is of any concern now. Not even warning glances from Number Seven seemed to convince her foolish sibling from running away as if he were some common vagabond urchin. He is well and truly gone now, likely having destroyed himself in the time-space continuum.”

He can’t help the way his breath catches in his throat.

“Though is it truly a shame, as I have lost one of my most powerful units, Number Five’s disappearance can be made an example of for the other children.  I have already requested a portrait to be painted in his memory so that the others may always be reminded of the consequences and fear of where free thinking may lead them.”

“Stop.” He blurts, his mouth moving of his own will.

Leonard quickly scans the rest of the page, before looking up at him in interest. “But there’s more to it, plenty more. Don’t you want to know your father’s deepest thoughts and emotions? The man was a closed book to everyone, even to all of you, right?”

“No.” Five says, his voice betraying his control and wavering with emotion. “None of this is relevant.”

“I think it’s incredibly relevant, Five.” Leonard soothes softly, pity lining his features.

Five hangs his head, staring at the ground in despondent shock. Even the picture of him up on the fireplace had meant absolutely nothing. Of course he thought it could simply be used as a way to remind the others about what not to do, but to hear his own life discussed so logically and trivially by the person who was supposed to have loved him. The person who was supposed to have cared about him. The person who was supposed to have been his father. Everything he had done, everything he had worked for was to get back to his siblings. The possibility that he had been lost or suffering hadn’t even been considered, nor cared for.

“While I cannot say this is an optimal outcome, I cannot be dismayed at the results.” Leonard continues to read. “Even in loss, a gain can be made. In this instance, there is no better point that can be made but to show the students that dreamers are just that. Dreamers. Lost to the very space and stars that they dream about.”

“Shut up.” Five grits, staring intently at the floor in an effort to push down the flood of emotions that are suddenly rising to the surface after all of this time.

He isn't a child. He wasn't a child, not even back then, he never had the chance. He hadn't filled his head with naive clouds and stars, dreaming about world peace or a better tomorrow. He had just wanted to find a way to start a new life with his siblings that didn't involve Reginald's iron grip and darkened frown in every corner of his mind. He had just wanted to love, and to be loved. He had just wanted to run somewhere else where he meant something to someone.

He had dreamed of a better life, that's all. He...

“There is no place in this world for children like Number Five. All in all, his absence is of no great loss.” Leonard finishes gently, the book closing with a soft thud in finality.

He grips the rope as tightly as he can, letting the physical pain of a raw reopened cut take priority over the emotion pain.

“I’m saying I understand Number Five. I understand everything about you now. You somehow did time travel, but something went wrong along the way and no one even cared. And no one cares now...”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know that your sister thinks you’re crazy.” Leonard interrupts, leaning forward on his chair. “I know she thinks you’re delusional even though from what I just read in this journal and how you look, and from what you have been saying, that clearly there’s a lot more to it here.”

“I promise you, I’m going to kill you.” Five breathes as he glares up at the man. “I would stop talking.”

Leonard doesn’t take the bait this time, simply sighing in a sympathetic manner. “It must be hard. Loving people so much and never having it noticed. Working so hard for the siblings you would do anything for and having them think you’re crazy or misguided.”

It does.

“You can’t help people that don’t want your help Five.” Leonard consoles softly. “All that work doesn’t mean anything if people don’t want your love and they don’t love you back.”

If they don’t love him back.

That’s true, isn't it? A small sliver of him can’t help but wonder why that was never enough to begin with. He’s their brother, their sibling. Shouldn’t their love and concern for him be enough? Why had no one heard him out except for the sibling that was getting something out of it too? No. That’s not fair. It’s not. He knows it’s not fair to say that about Klaus. Klaus is good to him. Klaus has been good to him…Klaus said he believed him.

Right?

“I just wouldn’t know what to think either if someone I cared for so much chose to believe a random stranger over me.” Leonard sympathizes softly. “Especially with how much you’ve tried for them, even as a child. I know I said this before, but you really do look like you haven’t aged a day Five. What’s your secret there? What happened to you?”

A lifetime of mistakes. A lifetime of suffering. A lifetime of isolation. A lifetime of being created into the perfect killing monster. A lifetime of being one.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until a drop of water falls down into his vision, creating a dark stain on the floor as it lands. He blinks and several more tears roll down his cheeks as he stares at the floor in mute despondence.

“Oh.” Leonard breathes sadly.

That damned hand is under his chin again, and he’s forced to stare into Leonard’s beady false eyes. He refuses to say anything, staring defiantly at the other man even as Leonard brushes away some of the tears on his cheeks.

“I’m sorry. That must have been hard for you.” The man apologizes soothingly. “I forget not everyone is at my point in life yet. There’s a lot of hurt before you can heal.” He explains gently, giving Five an encouraging smile.

Five doesn’t say a word.

“But...I think I like you and Vanya, Number Five. You two are sort of special cases, and I think I can allow a little change of plans. We really got off on the wrong foot. I am sorry for hitting you, you know that right? You did threaten me and assault me first, though.” Leonard chuckles, reminiscing back to this afternoon. “Let’s think of it as an eye for an eye and call it even. But you, who always tried to fight and rebel against your father and arrogant upbringing, and Vanya, who was always told she wasn't special, just like me. I think we could do a lot of good, don’t you?” Leonard asks, patting him on the head.

It takes everything within him not to scream.

“When we go to my house, we can talk about more about it. For now, I’ll have to unfortunately sedate you for a bit when we get to the car for the ride. Give me just a moment here, I’m going to clean up and then we can leave.”

Shit.

He doesn’t have more time. He needs to act before he’s put under again. It’s too soon, he doesn’t know if he can warp never mind even fight properly. He tugs, feeling his wrists scrape against the rope harshly, skin getting rubbed raw as he continues to use the friction and blood to loosen up his hands. He leans forward as far as he can, letting gravity help pull and strain against the ropes. Five grits his teeth as he feels the restraints pull against him, clenching his jaw from making a noise as he pulls. There’s a sudden feeling of release and his wrists and hands are finally freed from the chair.

Leonard has his back turned towards him, putting away his tools. That would be the man's last mistake he'd ever make.

Five pushes through the fog, quickly untying the knots on his ankles that are strapped to the chair with trembling but expertly intelligent hands. He’s tied knots, plenty of them in his lifetime. It’s like a second language to him at this point. He tries to keep an eye on other man as he pulls at the ropes desperately, cursing the weakness that’s lingering in his limbs. Leonard is just hanging up one of his work saws onto its peg when he begins to turn back towards Five. Five propels himself off of the chair with a grunt of exertion, pushing through his limits with a grit of his teeth. This is nothing. This is nothing at all. He’s done it all before. He’s suffered and pushed past his limits in this younger body too.

Even at this age, his body knew pain. It knew exhaustion. It knew how to suffer.

He rams into Leonard with an enraged shout, smashing the man against his own worktable. Leonard shouts in alarm, the breath stolen from the man as his stomach is rammed against the edge of the table. Tools fall from the shelf like rain, harshly scattering across the tables and onto the floor. Where Five has the experience however, Leonard makes up for in size, stature, and coherent clarity. The man pushes himself off of the table, backing up forcefully and slamming Five’ back into the opposite wall, Five wheezing as he makes impact with the wall.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” the man shouts enraged, breathing harshly from the exertion.

Five attempts to wrap his arms around the man from the back, attempting to choke him out. The two fumble, Leonard eventually grabbing onto Five’s arms and disengaging his grip with an angry yell. Unable to stop for even a moment, Five kicks at the back of the man’s knee with unsteady force. Leonard staggers anyways, stumbling and slamming into one of his woodwork exhibitions with a loud rattle of chairs. The man’s hands find their way to grabbing a chair, hurling it around with a grunt. Five drops to the floor, the chair smashing against the wall loudly just above him, a rain of wooden splinters and sawdust raining down around him. His body fails him as he tries to spring back up to his feet, a wave of vertigo suddenly hitting him.

No, no he can't fail here.

Then Leonard is there, grabbing his shoulders with a punishing bruising grip and pinning him down onto the floor with maddened brown eyes.

“How dare you. How dare you, after everything we’ve been through and talked about!” the man shouts, moving his hands to Five’s neck and squeezing. “I was going to help you Five, I was going to help you!”

Five coughs, his air supply suddenly being cut off as Leonard squeezes harder. His blood-slicked hands automatically come up to grip the man’s hands, trying to pry the off of his throat.

“You’re so ungrateful. So selfish! It’s no wonder they all hated you, even when you tried so hard to be good to them! They all knew better, they all knew better!” Leonard rants heatedly, a sickly gleam in his eyes as he looks down at his victim.

His head was swirling again as he gasps for air. Five wheezes as his hands drop from Leonard’s wrist, clawing at the carpet in desperation. Something hard nudges against his hand as he desperately reaches for it, his bloody fingers latching onto the base of the wooden object.

“They could all see that you were only ever going to bring all of them down with how selfish and arrogant you are- “

With an agonized shout, he stabs the random weapon into Leonard’s face as hard as he can.

The wooden figure goes straight through the man’s eyes with a sickening squelch. There’s a deathly silence as Five realizes that he just stabbed the man’s eye with the very figure of himself Leonard had carved of him that day. Then suddenly Leonard is screaming in agony, falling backwards in indescribable pain as the man howls his lungs raw.

An eye for an eye.

A hot flood of adrenaline pours through his veins as he’s able to suddenly gulp in a deep inhale of oxygen. Along with the adrenaline comes the torrent of emotions he’s been trying to hold back for the past few days. Five forces himself up, lunging at the writhing man with snarl. He smashes Leonard’s back against the floor, reversing their positions in an instant. Ruthlessly, he pulls out the figurine from the man’s eye with both hands, earning another agonized scream in response.

There’s a roaring in his ears. A dull thud. Voices. Screaming.

He stabs the man again, the figure’s arm snapping from the harsh impact, creating a sharp point of raw wood. He brings it up above his head, and stabs down again. This time it pierces Leonard’s chest. And again. And again. And again.

He lifts up the weapon again.

Then there are hands on him, trying to wrestle the makeshift weapon out of his bloody grip. He shouts in denial and frantic protest, trying to fight them off to continue when he started. He kicks, he fumbles, he tries to bring the weapon down again but there are hands on both of his arms squeezing tightly.

"Get off of me, I'm going to kill him, I swear I will!" he screeches desperately, voice cracking from strain as he rattles in a painful labored breath.

He needed to finish the job. He had to finish it.

“Help him Klaus, I’ll-“

“Five! Stop-Stop Five, it’s okay! Let go of the-”

“Fuck, what the hell even-“

He has to fight.

“FIVE!"

He freezes.

The hands on his raised arms suddenly loosen in their grip, wide hazel eyes in desperate fear stare into his own pale irises. They’re shimmering with raw concern, a warmth that belongs to a real human being. Someone who cares for him. Someone who loves him.

Klaus.

Klaus.

“Oh my god, Five-what-are you-are you okay!?” Klaus asks aggressively, almost angry he’s so sick with worry. “What happened, where did you go!? I was looking for you-we were looking- “

Klaus loves him.

The broken figure drops from his hands with a hollow thud. His breath his hitching before he even realizes what’s happening and then he cracks, and fully shatters. His body shudders violently as he breaks down into tears, the strain from all of his meaningless efforts finally taking its toll . Klaus chokes in a shocked inhale at his weakness, arms quickly coming around to tug him tightly to the man’s chest. He desperately clings to his brother’s coat, leaning into the man’s embrace with broken sobbing.

"Oh no no no,I’m here-I’m here, god-it’s okay. It’s okay Five.” Klaus promises desperately, a hand resting in his hair as his sibling holds him tight.

He weeps and weeps and weeps for the time he will never get back. For the love he's never experienced in this way. For the stars that died out before his desperate hands could reach out and touch them. 

Diego loiters in the background, dark eyes scanning Leonard Peabody’s corpse as soon as Klaus pulls Five into a protective embrace and further away from the dead man. The temperamental sibling picks up the bloodied bludgeon Five had been holding, rotating it around in examination.

It’s a wooden carving of Five himself.

Diego grimaces, pushing down the eerie disgust as he treks throughout the ruined room. Tools lay scattered across the floor and table everywhere, debris from a broken chair littering the carpet. He peeks into the side room, finding a chair with loosened ropes, blood stains behind it. Diego peeks out of the room, eying Five for a moment. His sibling’s trembling wrists and hands are completely covered in blood, confirming his thoughts. He nudges against a toppled over chair as he moves, dark eyes eying a red book on the floor.

He picks it up, eying the golden initials of “RH” on the front before flipping it open to a random page. It automatically flops open to a now wrinkled and slightly bloodstained entry. Diego scans across the hastily written cursive scrawl that undeniably belongs to his own father, reading a single section before he closes his eyes in resigned understanding.

He’s going to burn it later.

“We need to go.” He announces decisively.

They’ve made a lot of noise, and he had smashed down the door after hearing the commotion inside upon Klaus’ frantic command. He didn’t need curious bystanders peeking in to see this mess of a scene. Klaus looks up at him from the floor with a teary face of his own, looking devastated and helpless at what to do with Five coming utterly undone in his arms. Honestly, Diego is at a loss too. He’s never seen any sort of behavior like this from his shorter sibling, even when they were kids and this sort of frantic despair is a very bad sign of Five's state.

He wishes he could go back in time just so he could have a chance to kill Leonard Peabody himself.

“See? What did I tell you?” rings a female voice from the entrance of the store.

“Well, we’ve learned by now to always trust your womanly murderous intuition Cha-Cha.” A tired voice states in bland response.

There’s a metallic click of guns being drawn.

Chapter Text

Five hears the telltale sign of a gun being cocked even in the exhausted haze of his brother’s embrace. After spending a lifetime of always being aware of his surroundings, there are just certain things that stick with a person, even through time travel. He’s pushing Klaus down onto the floor harshly before his mind even catches up with his reflexes.

The storefront window shatters from a shotgun blast, glass raining into the store.

“I told you we should have just used the Molotov.” Hazel mumbles.

“How about we try the professional way first?”

“That is the professional way for all I care.”

The familiarity of the voices makes another surge of adrenaline burst through his heart. Of all people he has to deal with, why did it have to be Hazel and Cha-Cha right now? He glances around his surroundings, eying the two assassins who are staring him down from the entrance.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be Number Five.” Cha-Cha calls to him, lifting up her gun.

“Who the hell are those guys?” Klaus asks in shock, eying their rubber mascot masks with fearful anticipation.

This is a losing battle.

It’s too crowded and small to put up a proper fight when he’s not even at his best. Klaus clearly won’t be able to hold his own, which makes him a liability on the battlefield. Diego can’t take them both on alone, even with Five’s weak assistance. There’s that old-fashioned saying about how one shouldn’t bring a knife to a gun fight, and frankly that lives up to his rapport.

“We can’t stay.” Five rasps, his voice still aching from having being choked. “Get out the back entrance.”

Diego is already taking off into a sprint, kicking down the back door exit to clear the way. Klaus wraps his arms around him again tightly, quickly hauling them both backwards behind a fallen table as a shower of gunfire reigns through the store. There’s a crunching of glass, footsteps moving inside the store. A reload of guns.

Klaus is looking around wildly, as they huddle against the terrible makeshift shield. Of all the ways to die, he doesn’t want it to be in a cramped store with his brothers still around. Klaus won’t make it to the exit in time if his brother has to support him too. Five knows his limits. His legs aren’t responding. He doesn’t know if it’s because of the shock or if it’s because he’s already been pushing himself too much, but this uncooperative body could not have come at a worse time.

“Come on kid.” Hazel calls with a sigh. “We know you’re there.”

A metallic ting suddenly rings out through the area. One of Diego’s blades rips through the air, curving right into Hazel’s arm. The man gives out an alarmed shout, his gun blasting suddenly in recoil. The shot fires at the ceiling, taking out a chunk of the lights.

Now’s their chance.

Five pushes against Klaus urgently, pointing at the open exit while they have the moment of surprise. His brother scrambles into a crouch, trying to pull Five along with him as they attempt to stay low out of the killing duo’s sights towards the exit.

“Screw this!” the man shouts in angry exasperation.

A bottle smashes in front of them. Five can smell it before he sees it, tugging Klaus backwards with a heavy grunt before the bottle explodes into flames. The resounding explosion upsets his already wobbly balance and he falls into back, Klaus cursing in horrified response.

The store is enveloped in an orange glow as it begins to catch fire rapidly. Setting fire to a wood store is like moths to a flame. Inevitable. Cinders catch fire in a moment, the embers dancing in the air reminding him of back then.

Back there, in the ruined rubble of the apocalypse.

“Klaus, Five!” Diego shouts desperately from the other side, his silhouette in the doorway being obstructed by waves of heat.

Five spies his sibling sprint away, likely going to run around to the front entrance of the store. It will be too late by then for more of a distraction. He can hear them getting close.

“Shit shit shit shit- “Klaus chants, sweat dripping down his brow.

His brother has a cut on his cheek, it’s sluggishly bleeding down his chin. Five wonders if a splinter nicked him during the blast. Klaus meets his gaze with frightened eyes, as he manages to pull himself up into a sitting position. He can feel his breath catch in his throat as his sibling pulls him close again, protectively.

“It’s okay-it’s okay.” His brother whispers over the flames that block their only escape route, the fear in his voice contradicting his words.

Klaus is afraid to die. Klaus is horrified but he’s still hugging him and holding him as if he matters. As if he’s something to protect. He can feel his sibling’s arms trembling in fear. His chest hurts.

Oh.

So this is what it’s like to be loved so utterly and completely. That someone wouldn’t even think about dying right here with him. Giving their life up with him.

Klaus can’t die here.

No, Klaus won’t die here.

He breathes deeply, a flare of pain shooting through his body as he returns the hug tightly. The power within him is still there, it’s always been there. He’s pushed past his limits, but it’s not enough. It’s not enough to save Klaus right here and now, so he needs to push farther. With a pained grunt he pushes his body in strain, trying bend the time space reality around him. His powers push back, Five feeling a painful resistance being pushed back at him.

No no no.

He has to do this.

He pushes against it with effort, a strained curse tumbling out of his lips. It refuses to move, the blue swirling energy not allowing him to transport him and his brother out of here.

“Time’s up.”

There’s a gun aiming down his brother, the empty black eyes of Cha-Cha's pink dog mask staring at him with a detached cheer. He doesn’t know how she got there so fast, he’s been too distracted. There’s no time. There’s no time. There’s a gun aiming at Klaus because of him. It can’t end like this.

His arms tighten around Klaus and he yells with effort, putting all of himself into the jump. He can feel the resistance suddenly break as he pushes through the barrier of his own restrictions. A familiar glowing blue envelopes his vision and a loud shot rings in his ears, echoing into the night. It all happens so fast. They land onto damp asphalt outside of the shop with a harsh thud. Klaus is wheezing into his ear with fearful breaths. The stars above look down on him in praise with a light shimmer, the cold air telling him that he managed to jump outside of the building with Klaus in success.

His body rejects his efforts with violent reproach.

Five stumbles sloppily to his feet, getting two shaky steps away before he dry heaves, his insides protesting the normal limits of what they can handle. Nothing comes up, he’s too exhausted to even puke properly. He can feel a shaky hand softly rest on his back, running up and down in comfort.

“You did it-you did it Five.” Klaus whispers in awe, trying to comfort his burned-out sibling while also being alert of the assassins that are still in the area.

“The little bastard jumped!” rings the voice of Hazel from inside the store.

“They did say he was special.”

“Well why aren’t we given more information about that huh? You’d think with such an important person that we’d be informed properly on every aspect of the mission!” Hazel shouts angrily.

Diego practically barrels them over in action. Their combat-oriented sibling wastes no time in simply hoisting Five up into his arms, taking off into a sprint as fast as he can manage carrying him in his arms. Eventually they skid over to a car in the parking lot, quickly taking shelter to hide behind it with heavy breaths. He looks up at the night sky again. It's nice.

He’s so tired.

“I had no idea he could do that.”

“I didn’t either. We need to leave, they’re still looking for us and they’re gunna find us if we don’t get out of here soon.”

“What do we do?”

Sirens are wailing in the distance.

“Let’s get out of here.” Cha-Cha announces. “I hate these stupid city jobs, it’s too crowded man.”

“At least we’re burning the evidence.” Hazel muses, voice fading out as the two exit the store at a leisurely pace.

 “…Five? What are you..? Why can I…”

Ben?

“Car, now.” Diego orders, re-centering Five in his grip.

He closes his eyes, cheek laying against his brother’s chest as he begins to nod off. He’s so tired. Maybe he can finally get a break.

“No no NO, Klaus!!”

“Little busy right now!” Klaus hisses as he runs.

“Help Klaus! Help-you don’t understand! I can-I can see him fading!”

“What!?”

“FIVE IS DYING!”

The sirens get closer. There are several car doors opening and closing. He can feel himself laying in the back of the car, his eyes blearily blink open. Klaus is staring down at him with frantic horror in his gaze, as Ben yells at him to do something. That concern and desperation is for him.

His chest hurts.

His hand weakly moves to settle against it and an agony so strong cripples his ability to even breath. A pained breath rattles out of his mouth, closing his eyes against the onslaught of sudden pain. When he shakily pulls his hand back and opens his eyes again, he’s met with the view of his palm covered in fresh blood.

Oh.

He’s been shot.

So that’s why.

“Klaus…” he calls out weakly, lifting his eyes to stare up at his brother who is staring at Five’s bloodied palm in shock.

“Nope. No-no no no-no don’t you dare-do you hear me Five!?” Klaus demands grabbing Five’s hand and settling it down at his side as he hovers helplessly over Five’s form.  “Diego! Diego help me-he’s-he’s-”

“He’s already lost so much blood.”

“Put pressure on the wound Klaus! We have to get home, it’s the closest!” Diego shouts, slamming on the gas pedal and swerving out into the street.

“Five fight it. You have to fight it-please.” Ben begs, his dark eyes shining with desperate devastation.

Oh, when was he able to see Ben? He looks older. It’s a nice look on him.

Ben stares back at him with heartbreak.

Hands are pushing against his chest and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this sort of pain before. He cries out in agony, body seizing at the flood of pain that seems to fry his nerves and open him raw. His head turns to the side as he struggles, a string of desperate broken apologies from Klaus filling the car. A single tear rolls down his cheek as he lives through the constantly enduring agony, and Five thinks he might actually die here. His siblings are talking, shouting maybe. He can’t seem to make out what they’re saying. Something wet drops onto his cheek, making Five weakly open his eyes. He turns his head back up to look at Klaus. His brother is crying, raw pain shimmering in his hazel eyes as he pleads and begs to just talk to him a bit longer, even as the man presses down tightly onto his chest to try and prevent the bleeding.

So this is love.

He reaches up to life a trembling hand to the man’s cheek, his heart bursting with so many things he has always wanted to say to his family. To his siblings. To Klaus. He has so much love he wants to give to them, why had he never tried harder to show it?

“I love you, Klaus.” He declares softly, a solemn smile tilting up on his lips.

He’s sorry because he can’t help his brother more. He’s sorry because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen in the future. He’s sorry because he couldn’t stop the apocalypse, not even the second time around. He’s sorry because he knows he has run out of time.

His hand falls, leaving a smear of blood on his brother’s cheek.

“Five- “Klaus begs, pressing harder onto his chest. “Don’t leave me-don’t leave me please for the love of god!”

He’s tired.

“Go back. Go back Five-" Ben urges in desperation.

“Sorry.” He whispers. "Im-I'm sorry." he apologizes, a couple stray tears rolling down his face.

The stars are beautiful tonight.

Five's world goes blissfully dark with Klaus and Ben begging in his ear, the moon above him glowing brightly.

A single hour later Vanya Hargreeves destroys the world, maddened with grief.

Chapter Text

He breathes.

The blackness eventually warps into the smell of the outdoors and the earth beneath him. His chest flares in pain as he hits the ground, falling face down onto his forearms. Dry dirt rests under his fingernails, a swirl of crisp autumn wind. His body aches.

He feels like he’s been here before.

“Does anyone else see…little Number Five, or is that just me?” comes the bewildered voice of Klaus that echoes in his ears.

No.

No it can’t be.

How?

Five slowly opens his eyes in light disbelief, breathing in the smell of the earth and dirt he’s laying on. He sluggishly rolls to his side, propping his body up with an elbow, eyes wide in mute shock. A hesitant hand moves up to his chest, no pain or blood to speak of when he touches it. He glances down to find everything is in tact. But, he had died. He had died in the back seat of a car with Klaus and Ben yelling at him and Diego speeding through the roads. All he can feel now is the exasperating agitation of wearing an overgrown suit meant for an adult, and a prevalent exhaustion that lingers in his bones.

“Five?” Luther calls to him hesitantly.

He jerks his head up to stare at the huddled siblings with lost eyes, his brothers and sisters all staring at him back with bewilderment and confusion.

“You okay?” Luther asks, taking a step forward.

No.

Not in the slightest.

He pushes himself off of the ground, moving to his feet. Blood is pumping in his ears, confusion swirling through his mind frantically. How could this have happened? Had he died? What is going on? With an frantic jerk, he rips off the oversized suit jacket and flings it to the ground, his feet already turning to move into the building. Automatic reflex has him ducking under Luther’s concerned hand that reaches out to him, moving past his siblings with a clenched jaw. He can’t even think straight he’s so disoriented, a myriad of unanswered questions bursting into his mind at a rapid pace. He glances distractedly at familiar hazel eyes he’s gotten to know so well lately as he passes Klaus on his way inside.

His feet hesitate in their pace. He stops.

Five turns to face Klaus fully, looking up at his brother with wary caution. His heart hammers in its chest and his body itches with anticipation as he tries to immediately squash down the hesitant hope that blooms while looking at his sibling.

“Klaus…?” he asks softly, searching for any sort of recognition in his brother’s eyes about what had just happened previously.

Klaus raises an interested eyebrow, quirking a hesitant smile at Five. “Yeppo, that’s me alright.” he quips lightly as he scratches at his cheek, his eyes briefly flicking over to his siblings in confusion before they swivel back to Five. “Good thing you all see him too, or this would be a super awkward reunion.” Klaus jokes awkwardly with a laugh, glancing beside him with a distracted click of his tongue.

Klaus doesn’t remember anything they had gone through.

Pushing down the inevitable spike of hurt that pierces his heart, he clenches his fists and shakes his head in resignation. His feet continue to move him forward, shoving the door open to the manor with more force than necessary. He blinks forcibly, sick of dealing with the whirlwind of emotions he’s had to endure the past couple of days just trying to do this all over again. And now what? He was back right where he started? He trudges into the kitchen, immediately grabbing the newspaper on the table and eying the date.

March 24^th. The day of Reginald’s funeral. Eight days until the apocalypse.

He breathes deeply through his nose, trying to maintain his composure as he sags dizzily against the table. No one remembers what happened. No one except him. He died. He died and no one remembers and Klaus-

Klaus doesn’t remember.

He rubs a hand down his face, trying to breathe heavily through the torrent of hurt and fear that only grows stronger with each confusing minute he’s here. A heavy exhale tumbles out of his lips as he tries to come up with an answer. Nothing makes sense right now. All of that work for nothing. Again. All of the efforts he made trying to tell his siblings the truth. All of the efforts trying to open up to them. Trying to be vulnerable to them. It had all been thrown back at his face and declared as lunacy. He grits his teeth. He had given everything and in return, he received a bullet in the chest.

He had died for it.

His fist smashes onto the table with a heavy thud, the noise echoing throughout the room. Maybe he’s going crazy, that all of this really is just a byproduct of a mental break as a consequence of time traveling.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

A sneer forms on his lips, as the heavy footsteps of all of his siblings are slowly heard making their way into the kitchen. He turns, pulling open one of the drawers forcefully to grab a kitchen knife from within. He stalks around the kitchen with hardened eyes, snatching the newspaper as well as an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Five.” Luther calls as he enters the room first, ever the leader. “Aren’t you going to- “

“Be quiet, Number One. I don’t have time for you or your band of selfish idiots.” He grits out, disappearing in a flash of light.

He comes out the other end on the stairwell, trudging up them with a seething anger that only grows with every step that he climbs.  He had tried to pour his heart out to them, to all of them. If trying to be honest and open didn’t work, then he wouldn’t bother. He wouldn’t ever bother again. He’d do everything himself this time. Now that he has the knowledge, he can manage his timing better. This is the way it's always been and the way he is more familiar with. It will certainly be more successful now that he's armed with foresight.

He doesn’t need anyone.

Five shoves the door open to his room with a frustrated grunt, slamming it closed and locking it in finality. He wrenches open his closet, quickly picking out a uniform and throwing it onto the bed as he moves over to his desk and idly depositing the apple onto it. The over-sized sleeve of his blouse is pushed up, fabric pooling at his elbow as he sets his arm on the wooden surface. Brandishing the knife, he cuts into his arm with an angry inhale, sucking in air between his teeth in a light hiss of pain. The pain feels vindictive in a way. His fingers dig in harshly, pulling out the bloodied tracker for the third time. It will be disposed of at a farther location a bit later. He warps in and out of the bathroom to wash off his bloodied arm and to wrap some gauze around it hastily. As loathe as he is to admit it, finally shedding the adult suit for his well fitted academy uniform makes him feel better. It brings a small level of comfort in knowing that he’s at least presentable, even if he looks like a schoolboy. He exhales with a small nod as he tightens his black tie properly.

There’s a firm three knocks at his door.

He ignores it.

Five takes a seat at his desk, idly plucking a pen and scribbling down his time goals on a blank sheet of paper. He leans over in concentration, ignoring another set of knocks at his door. There are certain key events that he needs to prevent or change in order to make this time line run smoother. Just because he’s going to do it all by himself this time doesn’t mean he isn’t still going to help his siblings. He’d inform Vanya about her powers immediately. He’d make sure the people hunting him down wouldn’t get near his brothers or sisters. He’d make sure that Klaus understands the importance of the papers he threw away and try to figure out how Leonard Peabody managed to pick that up.

He’d make sure Klaus would be safe from harm.

The bright red apple looms in his peripheral as he commits his memory to writing. A small drop of liquid falls onto the paper, spreading out slightly and staining it grey before settling. He blinks heavily and then there’s another. And another. His hand trembles. With a shaky exhale, Five sits back and runs a hand across his face. It comes back lightly stained with tears. The proof of his weakness only makes him angry. This childish and inconsistent wave of emotions is as foolish as it is humiliating. He has composure. He’s in control of himself. There’s no need to cry because there's nothing to cry about.

He is fine.

He is fine.

It doesn’t matter if he’s crazy. It doesn’t matter what happened in the past. It doesn’t matter if he died or if he suffered. He’s always known pain. What matters is that he’s here in this present, and so that means he needs to do what he’s always done. He needs to carry on. He needs to pick himself up from his scraped knees and keep walking. He needs to work towards the objective to save his family, even if he can't stand the sight of them. The bigger picture would be worth it in the end. It has to be worth it.

The knocking eventually grows so loud that he can no longer ignore it. The sound grates in his ears and unbalances his concentration. Slamming down his pen with a loud smack, he stalks towards the door and unlocks it with an angry huff. He’s not expecting to see all of his siblings standing behind his door, several trying to peek at him behind Luther’s giant frame.

“Five, can we just talk for a second?” Allison asks tentatively.

“It’s been seventeen years.” Luther states, as if that means he owes any of them an explanation of what's he's been through.

As if the explanation he’d give would even be good enough for them anyways. He smiles at them tight-lipped in infuriated disbelief. With a shove, his hand slams the door in all of his sibling’s faces, making sure the lock drags with a loud click for them to hear it.

“Well...that went well.” Luther’s muffled voice mumbles from the other side.

Chapter Text

The rain is miserable.

Five chews on the rest of his apple with little emotion as he stands around the back yard with his siblings for Reginald Hargreeve’s scattering of the ashes. He bites into the fruit with a particularly loud crunch, the sound even louder than the rain pelting onto his umbrella. Luther looks over at him with an awkward glance, holding his dad’s urn tighter to him in response like a sacred treasure.

“Might want to wait to dump those. Weather conditions don’t seem to be ideal.” Five suggests to him dully, taking another bite of his fruit with a casual crunch.

His siblings eye Luther with hesitation, not knowing how the large man will react to the strange disrespect being shown by their newly recovered sibling. Apparently, Luther doesn’t know what to say to that either, because he blinks once and then opens the urn anyways.

The ashes pour out and onto the ground into a pathetic little pile as usual.

Idiot.

“Might have been…better with some wind.” Luther relents in admission.

Five tosses his apple core behind him, hearing it land with a small thud into the dirt. He scoffs.

“Would anyone like to say a few words?” Pogo calls softly.

“Nope.” Five declares.

 Leaving the rest of his worthless family to their own devices, Five turns to Klaus standing beside him, leveling the man with an intent stare. His brother looks back at him with an unassuming grin. He doesn’t know why it hurts so much still, he already knows this try will do better. The relationships with his siblings don’t mean anything if they are dead in the first place. It shouldn’t matter.

It shouldn’t.  

“Did you already throw away the old man's papers? Reginald's book?” He demands.

His brother’s eyes widen in light shock not expecting to have been called out so blatantly, especially by someone who hadn’t even been there to see him.

“Can’t say I know what you’re talking about there dear Five.” Klaus laughs lightly.

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, and if you had any common sense Klaus, you would tell me when and where you did it.” He grits out. “Now.”

“Wait what’s he talking about?” Luther calls to them with a furrow of his brow. “You still took something of dad’s even though I told you not to?”

“Shut up Number One. He’s dead, what’s he gonna do? Be disappointed?” Diego immediately interrupts, swaying Luther’s attention.

“It’s not right, and you know it. His things are not ours to take, or steal or-or pawn off for- “

“He was a monster.” Diego says with a dry laugh.

“Don’t.” Luther warns.

Five rubs his temples. God it’s like clockwork. Really stupid, pig-headed clockwork. Soon enough the fists would be flying from the two and then it’d play out all the same. A worthless fight. A broken monument. A knife thrown. Nothing gained.

“Sorry about your statue Ben.” He mutters, earning a bewildered look from Klaus.

“He was a bad person, and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.” Diego declares boldly, challenge sparking in his eyes.

Five turns back to stare at Klaus with dull expectancy, hoping he can at least get some important information while his idiotic brothers fight. He doesn’t expect for Klaus to be staring back him, eyes lightly squinted in concentration, his fingers rolling around his cigarette in thought. Klaus flicks his gaze down to Five’s chest, leaning forward ever so slightly.

“Klaus.” Five mutters in agitation, feeling strangely exposed.

His brother blinks several times, flicking up his hazel gaze to stare directly into Five’s eyes. “Are you…are you okay there, bud?” he murmurs under his breath, trying to not draw anyone else’s attention.

“I’d be better if you’d tell me what the hell you did with those papers.” He grits out, pinning him with a caustic gaze.

“It’s just- “Klaus frowns, flicking his eyes over to empty air beside him. “It’s just uh-if you’re injured you should probably get that checked out, you know what I mean?”

Five blinks. “What?”

“Your…you know.” Klaus points to his chest with a nervous giggle. “You’re injured? Pretty sure that’s not something to just casually walk off-”

“No…I’m-I’m not, there’s nothing there.” He breathes in shaken confusion, hand moving up to squeeze the fabric of his sweater vest tightly before forcibly releasing it.

There's no wound. There's no pain. He's alive.

‘Klaus! Ugh, don’t just say freaky shit like that! I don’t know what we’re seeing. Be a little less obvious please? He’s clearly in pain, whether that’s physical or not. If it's really him, you know he's going to be guarded and shy about his wellbeing.’

“Wh-I am not shy!” Five barks in flustered exasperation.

Wait.

“What?” Klaus blinks in wide-eyed surprise.

“I…” Five trails off, turning to look around in bewilderment.

Was that Ben?

This is getting out of hand. He doesn’t have time to get involved in this again. Five has a goal, and it’s one he needs to stick to. This is all just distractions that will take him away from the true goal. Stick to the plan and get the job done. That’s all that matters. Five dully glances at Luther and Diego who have now just started throwing their first punches at each other. On reflex, Klaus backs up a bit, throwing out a hand as if to shield Five. It’s endearing, if it didn’t hurt so much considering the circumstances.

No. No no. It doesn’t hurt. It is exasperating is what it is. He’s an adult, he can handle himself and he doesn’t need to be protected.

“Look. Just tell me what you did with the papers. They are very important.” Five grits out, stepping into Klaus’s space with frustration.

Klaus holds up a hand in surrender. “I threw them in the dumpster okay? I didn’t know they were important. I mean it’s a dead guy’s documents, how important can they be!” he grins.

Important enough to start the end of the world apparently.

This is exhausting. He hasn’t even been here a couple hours and it’s already an irritating mess. Not having Reginald’s book likely means Leonard has already found it, knowing how much of an intense…fan, the man is. He’s going to have to pay him a little visit later and just get the job over and done with.

Fine. That’s fine.

He’ll drop by the man’s shop and kill him before he even has the chance to meet Vanya. That crisis can be averted. He breathes out a long exhale, grounding himself in the moment. This is fine. He has that workaround which is the most important issue. The soldiers and assassins that are personally after him aren’t a big deal.

Problem solved. World saved. Mission completed.

His thoughts are disrupted by a large crack. Five turns to see Luther slamming his fist right into Ben’s statue, the monument falling into chunks and pieces across the scattered earth. Maybe he should have tried to stop that this time.

Irrelevant.

“There it goes.” He sighs, rolling his eyes as he makes his way inside.

“Hey just-just wait a second.” Klaus says, grabbing his shoulder.

Five jerks it out of his brother’s grip harshly.

“Don’t.” He mutters quietly, swallowing down the eruption of emotions that threaten to flow over if he continues to talk to his mess of a sibling.

“Jesus just wait a second I said! What was that whole thing just a second ago-” Klaus whines, the man quickly stomping on his cigarette before trailing after Five in haste.

“Oh.” Five stops in a sudden epiphany, disappearing in a flash of blue light.

He reappears behind Diego just as the man is winding back to throw a knife at Luther. Five plucks it out of his hand, completely breaking the tension of the fight.

“Going to borrow this, thanks.” Five informs him blandly, warping back over to the door of the house.

“Hey what the fuck?” Diego voice echoes over the rain angrily.

He pushes it open without another word. It’d be rude to keep the kitchen knife to himself, but Diego has blades to spare. It was smaller than the one he initially used as well, so he could carry it around with relative ease. Five tosses his umbrella inconsiderately onto the floor, thinking of potential areas he can toss the tracker tonight.

“Okay, enough!” Luther shouts, slamming open the door following Five inside. “You owe us some answers Five! You’ve been missing for seventeen years, so how about you do us all a favor and explain yourself!” he commands, the anger simmering from the fight with Diego still resonating in his tense posture.

Five clenches his jaw.

“It’s been a lot longer than that.” He mimics word for word, just like the first two times it’s happened. “Old man was right. Time travel is a crapshoot. I’ve been through some stuff, seen some things. I’m a lot older than you all think I am.” He retorts, turning around to face Luther and the siblings that are meandering inside after him.

“What does that even mean?” Allison chimes in with a raise of her eyebrow.

“The end of the world is in eight days by the way.” He says conversationally. “I’d say I need your help to stop it but I don’t. I really don’t. So if you’ll excuse me, I have some men to murder at a point in time tonight, and I’d like to write down some numbers before I leave.”

“Excuse me?” Luther questions in authoritative confusion.

“Wait-did anyone else hear the part where he’s going to like-kill some dudes or was that just me?” Klaus murmurs in confusion.

“Did anyone understand a word of what he just said?” Diego mutters.

 “Probably not, none of you are smart enough, or even care enough, for that matter.” Five states as he tosses the blade casually in his hand, moving into the sitting room.

He can just grab a quick drink while he’s at it.

“Care? None of us have been around each other in years, why the hell would we care about anything you, or anyone else does?” Diego barks out in confusion.

Five pauses.

The rain patters onto the windows panes lightly, the low rumble it creates filling the house with light noise.

“I guess I thought maybe I might have been missed enough for someone to care that I’m here.” He states with a bitter smile, his back to his siblings. “But you’re right, why would anyone care about a miserable, dysfunctional family?” he asks, a familiar sadness embracing him that aches deep within his bones.

The silence his comment creates speaks enough for itself.

He nods to himself, fiddling with the knife in his hand. They would have done anything else except demanded answers from him as if they were interrogating a criminal if they did care. Even a smile, or a bad attempt at a hug. Any sort of happiness in their eyes when they first saw him fall from that warp. He’s been fighting his entire life to get back to them, he’s still fighting now, and none of them had even cared in the first place. Had it been him this entire time that was different? Is he fighting for something that's just an idea instead of the reality?

Maybe Leonard had made a-

Five forcibly pushes himself out of that mindset with a jerk. Irrelevant. It’s all irrelevant. He moves to the bar, eyeing the shelves in contemplation. Delores would be furious at him if she could see him now. She always liked to lecture about alcohol never bringing proper nutrition, and that it was never worth the effort to get.

Delores…

“Five I…” Vanya’s tentative soft voice calls out.

His breath catches in his throat, a raw spike of hurt running through his veins.

No. It’s too soon to face Vanya. Her intentions had been good, but he can’t do it. His limbs are locked, refusing to look her in the eye. It’s fine. He doesn’t need Vanya. He doesn’t need to talk to her or build up his relationship with her again. None of this really matters. This is for the bigger picture. He’s saving his siblings from the end of the world. These trivial moments of trust gaining and emotions are worthless.

They’re worthless.

Five shakes his head, disappearing in a flash to the familiar set of stairs. He climbs them once again, using each creak of a step to count backwards and calm the beating ache of his heart. With each exhale he reminds himself of the importance of the goal. He opens the door to his room, locking it behind him and moving to his desk. The knife is sloppily thrown onto the desk, his hand automatically going for a piece of chalk. He doesn’t hesitate to start writing onto the wall. His hand lightly trembles and he can’t help but curse softly at himself, fed up with his inability to handle this professionally.

He’s fine.

The mission is the only thing that matters.

It’d be great if his heart could agree with that statement.

Chapter Text

His father’s study seems much smaller without the man himself sitting at his desk, writing as if he’s running out of time. Five stares at Reginald Hargreeve’s desk with apathetic neutrality, eyes flicking up to the portrait of Reginald himself that hangs right behind it. Never let it be said that Reginald had no sense of pride. Five snorts to himself, turning towards his real purpose for entering the room.

A gleaming hunting rifle is displayed proudly on the mounted wall, the case standing upright in the corner. He removes the gun off its perch with both hands, hauling the gun as well as dragging the case up and onto the desk. He opens the latches of the case with two satisfying clicks, counting the number of bullets already inside. Satisfied, he places the gun into its traveling case, shutting it after. Apparently, the gun was used to take down a rhinoceros. It doesn’t surprise him that one of the only hobbies his father liked was hunting down prey and killing innocent animals to display as trophies.  Rather fitting. The old man probably would have done the same thing with his children if it wasn’t illegal.

Five tugs the case that’s almost as big as him out of the room. He has it all planned out. First, dispose of the initial swat team that come looking for him by planting the tracker in an artificial place and get the spring on them. Then, set up position to take out Leonard Peabody if the man happens to still be running his shop in the evening. If not, camp out until the morning and assassinate him with a perfect sniped shot. Finally, retrieve the dead man’s belongings. Or rather, obtain the journal that belongs to Reginald.

Regardless if Leonard is out of the way, that journal can’t fall into the wrong hands. It’s far too risky to simply let that be an unknown factor in this equation.

All in all, a very simple mission.

“Five?” calls a voice to him as he’s making his way to the entrance, Luther staring him down from the end of the room.

Should have taken the back way out.

“Don’t have time for you Number One.” Five announces tritely, not even stopping in his trek to the door.

“What are you carrying? Where did you get that?”

“It’s a guitar.” He snorts in dry amusement. “Vanya lent it to me.” He lies half-heartedly.

“Five.” Luther calls.

Five immediately jerks away from the large hand that grips his shoulder, turning to look up at his tall sibling in annoyance. He’s going to warp out in a moment if Luther doesn’t actually have anything important to say, which is likely.

“What do you want?” he demands impatiently, adjusting his grip on the case.

“You weren’t serious, were you? You were just joking when you said you’re going out to kill people.” Luther demands more than he’s actually asking, looking down at the case Five is carrying.

“Sure.” Five replies lightly, turning on his heel.

“You’re lying.”

“Brilliant skills of observation from our respectful leader.” Five quips sarcastically.

“How can you even act like that about such a topic? That’s-you’re talking about murder, do you understand?” Luther reprimands. “What’s even going on? What’s all this about?”

Five turns his head to stare back at Luther with a subtle raise of an eyebrow, wondering at which part his brother had gotten lost when he previously mentioned the apocalypse.

“Five, you can talk to me.” His brother attempts, trying to soften his approach, the man trying to move closer to him.

It’s so obvious it’s just a tactic so Luther can get into his space and take the gun. The other man can’t hide his apprehension if his life depended on it, the hulking frame too gigantic to try and hide body language from a trained assassin.

“It’s what has to be done. So, I’m doing it. I have to do it otherwise the world as we know it will come to an end. It truly boggles my mind at times at how small-minded you can be. I am more than justified to handle this.” He replies impatiently.

For more reasons than one.

 “But that’s murder, Five. The people you kill? That leaves a scar on our family name too, that brings all of us down. Dad always said in order to do what we do, that we have to have a co-”

“Jesus Luther, grow up.” Five chides dully. “This is bigger than you.” He explains, staring into his brother’s eyes with serious intention. “People will die if I don’t take care of this. Our family. Why would your moral code matter if everyone, including these random people you’re so intent on defending, die anyway in a week?”

Luther stares down at him as if he’s looking at a stranger. In a way, maybe the man is. Even as children maybe that’s all they’ve ever been, strangers. Students trained under the same roof to work together and interact with each other, but never learning how to actually be a family. Maybe that’s why they are all such a mess. No matter how many combat skills they learned, or people they saved, they never learned how to truly love each other. But they are his family, whether they agree with that sentiment or not, so Five isn’t going to let that stop him from doing what he needs to.

“I’m sorry, I just…I can’t let you go through with this Five, even if your intentions are good.” Luther says after a moment, reaching out for the gun case.

“Good thing I don’t need your permission then.” Five grins sharply, disappearing in a flash before Luther can even blink.

What a waste of time. Morality has no place in his line of work. Luther only seems to think about things one step at a time, instead of looking at the big picture. Five simply can’t comprehend his brother’s stupidity when it comes to the greater good. One person for the safety of the world. A world with their family in it.

Surely, it isn’t a complicated decision.

“Five!” Luther shouts in anger, heavy footsteps jogging towards the door outside.

Five scoffs as he hears the door slam shut, moving through the halls of the house with focus. Apparently, the dunce hadn’t even considered that he might have just warped somewhere else inside. His brother’s tunnel vision is easy to take advantage of. Five climbs the stairs, moving to exit out of the fire escape entrance around the side, so as not to run into his angry sibling.

The sun is setting when he climbs out of the window and onto the fire escape. It engulfs the cramped streets and buildings in an orange glow. Instead of using the fire escape ladder to go down, Five climbs upwards, eventually reaching the roof of the building. He hauls up the case over the ledge with an exasperated grunt, pushing himself over the ledge and onto the rooftop.

The view takes his breath away.

It spans on for miles. Five stares down over the edge of the building to watch as people pass through the streets and go about their day. People just living their lives. People chatting with friends. People getting off of work. People complaining about the weather. Five steps back, turning to gaze out into the horizon. The sky is still cloudy from the previous rain, taking on purple and red hues as the sun descends to its resting place.

People are just, people. Flawed, kind, selfish, stupid. Just, people.

The world can be beautiful. There are pockets of happiness to find in the mundane. He wants to live in this stupid world. He wants his selfish siblings to be here on this planet with him. He wants, he wants, he wants.

He dreams.

He smiles with a shake of his head, lightly chiding himself for the sentimental thoughts that envelop him warmly. His hand grabs onto the handle of the rifle case, hauling it up with him. A simple life can’t be obtained without some work.

He runs, flashing into a warp as he leaps off of the rooftop. Five comes out on the other end, feet touching down on an entirely different building nearby. There’s a certain exhilaration to running across the rooftops of a city, the cold wind in his ears and the setting sun guiding his steps. When he finally deems himself satisfied with the location, he stops. The outskirts of Bricktown will serve their purpose for his fight. Then he can make his way further into the city where Leonard Peabody’s wood shop is located. From there it’s finding the perfect perch to line up a shot and some patience.

For now, though, it’s time to take care of the goons tracking him.

There’s a rooftop access door that can provide him opportunistic shelter, as it’s enclosed by a small building. The sun has set, the air icy without the light to warm up his skin. Five stretches, pulling the tracker out of his shorts pocket. He flicks it out of his hand, the little device hitting the ground with a small ting. He moves towards the wall of the roof door, setting down the bulky case and sidling down alongside it with his back against the wall.

He waits, recuperating his strength as night falls.

Time passes. The city skyline illuminates the dark sky, blurred lights shining across the horizon. Eventually, he hears the telltale sounds of his pursuers. Their footsteps are faint at first, muffled as they make their way up the stairwell and towards the roof exit door. Five gets to his feet without a word, hand brandishing Diego’s knife from his pocket. He slips around to the side of the roof access wall, leaning against it casually as he listens to the murmured voices.

The door is finally opened with a grating creak.

He waits.

They file through the door cautiously, guns at the ready. Five watches in faint amusement as the leader finally spies the tracker, its green light blinking in the darkness. The man leans down, plucking the device from the ground, back turned toward Five. Surveying the area, he notices one of the guard’s is still lingering around the doorway. The leader is the furthest away, with the other three guards loitering around the man awaiting their orders.

Perfect.

“Shit. He ditched the tracker. Where could he have gone?”

“Right behind you.” Five drones, flinging the knife straight into one of the loitering lackey’s skull.

Four left.

He warps over to the body before it has even fallen to the ground, pulling out the knife from his victim’s forehead. The rooftop erupts in gun fire. He wastes no time, flashing in front of another soldier, ramming into him with a harsh grunt. The poor fool goes right off the ledge with a horrified scream that echoes all the way down.

Three left.

Sprinting, Five pushes off of the ground into a warp. He reappears high, hands latching onto the rim of the small roof connected to the door and swings with forward momentum. His feet smash into the guard’s chest who is lingering in the doorway, sending the man tumbling harshly down a flight of stairs.

Two left.

He warps before he can hear the man land, his feet touching down on top of the hut. Five leers down at the two men left, readying the knife as they both redirect their aims at him.

“Stop Number Five! It doesn’t have to be this way!” the man in command shouts. “Just come quietly and we won’t-“

Five leaps towards the last guard with vicious speed. They fire at his airborne form but he simply warps through both of them, coming around on the other side. He turns with the blade, embedding it into the back of the commander’s head. In the same breath he seizes hold of the man’s gun from behind, firing it straight into the last guard’s back.

Zero left.

Mission complete.

Wait-one left.

“Godammit.” He pants in agitation, shoving the dead body away from him.

Five moves across the rooftop with heavy exhales, stepping over the bodies and making his way towards the roof door. He peeks down the stairwell to see guard he threw down there still laying there, a small groan of pain falling out of the man’s lips. With a roll of his eyes, he casually makes his way down the steps, feet echoing throughout the cramped area in an ominous calling.

Five bends down, snapping the man’s neck with an exerted huff.

There.

He dusts himself off and straightens his tie. A much smoother interaction than the last time. This is more on par of quality that he prefers. Five climbs the stairs back out onto the rooftop, breathing in a deep inhale of night air. He pulls out Diego’s blade from the back of his victim’s head, cleaning the bloodied blade on the man’s shirt before pocketing it back in his shorts. The gun case is still right where he left it, untouched even in the excitement of battle. He picks it up with an exasperated grunt, already sick of lugging it around.

“Five!” a familiar female voice calls out to him over the cold wind. “Did you-oh my god, did you do all of this? Are you okay?”

Five turns.

Luther and Allison are standing across from him with apprehensive eyes.

“How did you-what are you doing here?” he demands.

“Put down the gun Five.” Luther commands, Allison standing at his side with a troubled gaze. “Or we’ll make you.”

They’ll make him? Did Luther and Allison realize that they essentially each brought their own biggest weakness to a battle? Each other? Five watches the two in disbelief, wondering why of all siblings to interrupt this, it would be them. What sort of morality pitch did his brother give to Allison to make her follow along? More importantly, why would Luther even want her along? Doesn’t he care about her safety? His overprotective compulsions are contradicting this strange team up now.

What are they doing here?

“You have no idea what you’re asking me to do.” Five promises grimly, facing his siblings straight on with dark eyes. “Get out of my way.”

Luther takes a step forward, rising to the challenge. “You’ll have to go through us.”

Five sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. He drops the case with a dull thud, raising a hand to his temples. The wind howls harshly above the streets of the city.

“If you insist.” He relents coldly.

Chapter Text

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Luther starts.

Five can already feel his patience snap. He’s been through enough today without needing his siblings to engage in a moral speech about things they don’t understand. The lack of any trust within this family makes everything so messy.

“You aren’t exactly giving me an option, Number One” he barks back. “I think I’ve mentioned more than once now that this is for the fate of humanity, what don’t you seem to understand about that?”

“You can’t Five, it’s just not right.” Luther retorts in frustration. “This isn’t what we’re about.”

“And what are we about exactly? Please enlighten me, I’d just love to know what you think we as a family stand for.” Five snaps, agitated.

This would be so much easier if they could just trust in him.

“Five, just-just come home with us and we can talk, okay?” Allison tries imploringly, almost sweet in her approach compared to Luther. “We just don’t want you, or anyone else to get hurt.”

Unfortunately for her, he isn’t swayed by sweet little nothings. Sugary words that are only used to get what they want is what Allison’s entire foundation is based upon. Her career. Her relationship. Her family. Her fortune. It’s all one big lie based on the power she was born with instead of the talent she has.

“As you can see, I’m fine, though apparently even if I wasn’t, you’d still demand me to come crawling back to you like some sort of chided child.” He grins sharply, knowing there’s no warmth in his smile.

“That’s not what this is.” Allison protests, tucking some wayward strands behind her ear. "We just-"

“I don’t need your approval for what I’m going to do. I think the real question here is, are you really going to try and fight me about it? Harm me?” Five asks, disbelief lining his words.

The rooftop is silent at a standstill.

Luther straightens his stand, eyes unwavering. “If that’s what it takes to do what’s right.”

Five watches passively as Luther turns his head towards Allison. The two share a silent conversation with their eyes before turning back to him. Allison stares with conflict, a strange look of guilt in her eyes.

Oh.

They are really willing to go that far?

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Five grits out.

Allison opens her mouth.

“I heard a- “

Her words are cut off by a knife grazing past her face, a shocked inhale tumbling out of her lips. Five wastes no time using his thrown distraction as a chance. He uses his foot to propel the gun case off of the rooftop completely, jumping off of the ledge along with it into a free fall. The wind whips harshly across his face as he snatches the handle midair, blue energy rippling around him into a warp. He hits the ground running on a different rooftop, breaths coming out harshly in effort. The case is too big to run easily with, slowing his agile movement down considerably. Luther’s shout of anger echo across the rooftops, heavy footsteps now in pursuit of him.

He’s at a disadvantage here.

Allison’s power is too unpredictable. On a regular day, Five might be more willing to entertain a spar, but his powers are already drained from the previous fight. It’d be a losing battle to outright engage his siblings right now. A more practical plan is to evade his siblings and move further into the city. Leonard’s shop is only a couple buildings away. If he can spot the man, he can line up a shot and kill him before his siblings even reach him. The mission needs to be prioritized over a pointless brawl about shaky morals. As he runs across the building, Five scans the streets below, looking for the signature sign of the shop.

He just needs a perch across from the shop to give him the perfect angle. That is, if Leonard is even inside.

“Five! Stop!” Luther shouts.

He doesn’t stop.

He forces himself through another warp to create more distance between, a haggard grunt falling out of his mouth as he stumbles out onto another building. His powers are reaching their limit, and his stamina is faltering. Five drops the case, quickly undoing the latches and pulling the rifle out. Screw the case, he only needs one shot anyways.

A loud thud signals Luther’s arrival on the roof.

“Shit.” Five curses, grabbing the now empty case in frantic thought.

He whirls it around, using its heavy momentum to fling it into his brother’s face, turning and bolting across the rooftop. Luther easily catches it in his hands, momentarily confused at his brother's actions. Allison is gracefully joining the other at his side, her acrobatic skills not challenged even in heels. Just in lack of training after all these years.

“Dammit Five!” Luther curses, tossing the case aside once he realizes it’s empty.

He’s running out of time.

Leonard’s shop sits innocently down across the street from him, the warm lights glowing in the windows signifying the man is still inside. Hope blossoms in his heart as he runs towards the ledge of the roof he’s on, sweat on his forehead chilled with the weather. Five skids into a crouch, cocking the rifle frantically as he pulls the gun up at the ready. He stares down the scope with a deep inhale. Leonard’s silhouette doesn’t come into view and Five can hear his brother’s footsteps pounding closer to him.

The window of opportunity is closing.

He feels the displacement of air before he sees the man. It gives him just enough time to react, ducking under Luther’s reaching hand. Five jabs the butt of the rifle into his brother’s stomach with a grunt. It’s like hitting a brick wall. Utterly ineffective. His brother’s arms go to circle around him as an attempt to simply lock him into an iron grip. With a strained grit of his teeth, Five forces a warp through the other, coming out behind Luther with trembling legs. He wheezes, clutching the gun to his chest tightly as he wills himself not to fall to his knees.

“I can do this all day Five. You’re not going to win this battle.” Luther turns, knowing he has the advantage.

His reactions aren’t quick enough, dulled by too much exhaustion from the intensive battling and running. Luther’s shoulder rams into his back, taking his breath away. Five harshly falls with angry exclamation, scraping his palms and knees as he slams onto the harsh pavement of the roof.

“Get. Off!” he commands angrily as Luther pins him down, his brother moving to maneuver the gun from underneath him in the fall.

Five fusses and struggles as much as he can, kicking his feet and clinging to the rifle with all the strength he can manage. He can hear Luther mutter angrily under his breath, the man wrenching one of his hands behind his back.

“Stop! It’s over.” Luther orders sternly. “It’s over Five.”

It’s not over.

He growls, his hands glowing blue in an attempt to warp. He’s met with a familiar and painful resistance that signifies he’s reached his limit. He tries again and is only met with more kickback, his insides swirling with protest. Five allows himself to fall limp, exhaustion overtaking his body in resignation. His forehead lightly scrapes against the concrete as he shuts his eyes in humiliated anger. It can’t end like this. He was so close. He is so close.

“You’ve exhausted yourself.” Luther says with a resigned sigh, Five able to hear the frown in the man’s words. “Was all this trouble worth it? Look at you.”

“Shut up.” He grits. “You have no idea, none of you do. Everything I’m doing is to keep you and this whole world, alive!”

Luther eventually tugs on his shoulder, turning him around so he’s pinned onto back instead of being forced into the ground on his chest. The crouched man tugs the gun away with finality, staring down at him with a frustrated gaze.

“I didn’t want to fight like this Five. I know you’re smart, intelligent. Can’t you understand why I couldn’t allow you to do this?”

Five doesn’t answer, instead answering with a thrust of his fist. Luther catches his hand before it hits him with slightly widened eyes, surprised at the audacity Five had to even try to catch him off guard.

“Don’t try that again.” He warns quietly, squeezing Five’s closed hand in threat before releasing his grip. “Come on. We’re taking you home.”

Five tenses, a raw anger flooding through his veins. “I’m not a child! How dare you treat me as if- “

“It doesn’t matter how old you are at this point!” Luther yells back, patience now tested and snapped. “You’re a threat, Five. A threat to civilians! The very people we used to fight for! There’s no way I would let you roam free after seeing how far you almost took it!”

Allison watches everything like a shadow, her silhouette dark as she takes it all in. She eventually moves to take the gun from Luther, moving to place it back into its case. He’s harshly hauled up to his wobbly feet, his face warm with seething anger at the humiliation. Luther has a hold of both his shoulders in an iron grip, making his chest tighten with anxiety.

“Luther, take it easy.” She soothes softly, looking at Five with pitying eyes. “It’s over now.”

Warm, maternal eyes.

An advantage.

Five falsely stumbles, feeling Luther automatically support his weight, a large hand on his back. He exhales out a shaky breath, allowing his posture to relax in defeat, making it seem like the adrenaline has worn off.

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone.” He mutters. “But you weren’t listening, so I decided I’d do it alone. I’ve been alone for so long, I don’t…” he trails off, clenching his jaw and looking down at the ground.

His siblings are silent.

“I don’t know how to ask for help anymore. I don’t know how to be around people.” He admits, allowing some truths to fall out in his little tactic.

Allison looks at Luther with heartbroken eyes, looking at Five the way she might look at her own daughter if she was struggling. Luther silently flounders in return, trying to find the right words to suddenly correct the situation that's suddenly become emotional. Five slumps in exhaustion, playing up his pitiful smallness in comparison to the other adults.

He’s just a kid. A pitiful misguided kid.

Sure.

“You-You should have explained. This whole, apocalypse thing you mentioned, and then you just took off.” Luther mutters in a stern tone, his grip loosening slightly. “You always think you're better than us, but I know you’re a good person Five. I heard you say you were doing it for us, and I don’t think you would have fought so hard if you didn’t truly believe that what you were doing was for the right reason.” The man sighs.

Allison makes her way towards the two brothers. She reaches out hesitantly, placing a manicured hand onto his hair and lightly running through the dark chocolate strands there. Five shies away from the comforting touch.

“Hey, we’ll talk when we get home about all of this, okay? We’re okay. You’ll be okay too, Five.” She soothes kindly.

He says nothing.

Allison relinquishes her hold on the case, allowing Luther to take it from her silently. The man still has a hand on Five’s shoulder, but it’s more guiding than imprisoning. Luther already seems to deem him no longer a threat, underestimating the power of Five’s ire. That’s the thing about leaders. They always underestimate the people under them. The three slowly make their way across the rooftop, Luther on his left and Allison on his right. He takes in their position gravely, noticing the Allison is the closest to the ledge of the building. Five flicks his gaze back over to Leonard’s shop, holding his breath as a silhouette moves past the wide glass windows. Perfect. Confirmation of target inside.

Now is the time to act.

“Sorry.” He mutters, shoulder checking into Allison harshly with all of his weight.

Not expecting the sudden impact, her entire center of gravity is shaken, the woman tripping with a yell. Luther shouts in alarm, dropping everything to sprint for his sister who is far too close to the ledge for him not to panic. She won’t fall. It’s calculated. That’s what they get for fighting alongside one another. Five can’t feel bad for exploiting the easy weakness there.

The gun case falls with a thud as his brother sprints past to help steady her. Five wastes no time. He wrenches open the case with a shaky exhale, tugging out the rifle and sprinting away from the two. He’s so close. He’s so close to a real victory.

“Five!” Luther roars in blind rage, the compromising of Allison’s safety the final thread to snap in the man’s patience.

His mind moves rapidly, trying to figure out how to come out of this with a win, even if it means facing the consequences of his actions later. He skids to a stop, bringing up the rifle to stare down the zoomed scope as he tries to frantically locate where Leonard is in the shop. No time, his brother’s steps are already thudding closer, beating in time with his heartbreak. With a grit of his teeth, he whirls around, turning his aim onto Luther with cold eyes.

“Don’t move any closer.” he warns, keeping his aim.

“You don’t want to do that, Five.” Luther explains calmly, holding up his large hands to appear as less of a threat. “You know I can walk off a bullet…just put down the gun.” He orders calmly, but the rage in his eyes cannot be hidden.

“Not if its embedded in your head.”

Luther freezes in cold anticipation, the implications of his own brother shooting him in the face causing him pause. The telltale clicks of Allison shoes slowly get louder, as the woman finally catches up with her two brothers. Their silhouettes are dark, the city lights only illuminating one side of their bodies.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” she shouts, her voice echoing across the cold wind, her dark eyes burning into his own.

“You have the nerve to tell me what I can or can’t do, when you were about to rumor me into submission?” he barks in a slowly growing rage. He clenches his jaw, the cold wind causing him to shiver. “None of you have any idea what’s going on! You’re so busy pushing your agenda onto each other that you can’t see what’s in front of you!”

“You are walking down a path you cannot come back from Five.” Luther promises grimly. “Don’t become the monster you’re trying to stop.”

Five mulls on the phrase for a while, a slow angry smile coming onto his lips. He laughs out a breathy chuckle of disbelief, hunching over for a moment as he grins. He cocks the gun with a loud click.

“I’m already a monster.” He promises.

He’s just a monster who also loves his family.

He swiftly rotates, lining up his sights in familiar muscle memory even in this body. His eyes rapidly lock onto a familiar black silhouette who is sitting at the woodcarving station. His finger starts to the press on the trigger.

“I heard a rumor that you can’t kill an innocent person!” Allison screams.

His limbs lock up in surprise.

Silence.

The wind howls.

Five huffs out a breathy laugh as he pulls the trigger without hesitation.

“NO!” Luther shouts, hand outstretched.

The gun fires,  bullet whizzing straight through the window and embedding itself right into the man’s skull. Leonard’s body slumps, falling heavily off of his seat and onto the floor.

Dead.

A perfect shot.

“Guess you haven’t rumored in a bit huh?” Five cracks a dim smile, pulling away from the gun as he straightens. “Pretty rusty wording you just muttered, a bit too specific, don’t you think? There's not a single thing that's innocent about the man I just killed.”

Luther is staring down at the streets below, his mouth slightly open in horrified shock. Allison is watching him with an unsettled expression, her hand moving up to cover her mouth in guilt at her failure. He doesn’t expect Luther to grab him at the neck, choking him out with a grit of his teeth. Five forcibly stays relaxed, refusing to raise his hands to clutch at his brother’s hand. It wouldn’t make a difference anyways.

“You, you-“ Luther seethes, tightening his grip on Five’s neck.

“Stop Luther!! God just stop!” Allison shouts, too emotionally wracked with devastation to deal with more family discourse. “I'm done. Just-it's over. Let's go back.”

Luther’s hand loosens. Five stares defiantly up at him. The larger man hangs his head in defeat, releasing him.

“Dammit Five. Godammit.” The man whispers.

He wheezes in an inhale, the black spots dancing across his vision eventually fading away. Five wipes a shaky forearm across his forehead, feeling the disarray of his hair and the cold sweat on his wrist. This time his stumble is genuine when Luther wrenches his hands behind his back.

“We need to keep him awake for questioning while his powers are depleted. We can’t do it later otherwise he’ll escape.” Luther grits, pushing Five to walk forward.

Allison says nothing, putting a hand to her forehead in disappointed resignation.

The walk back is grueling. Luther simply hauls him over his shoulder like a limp sack of potatoes as the older siblings maneuver across the rooftops. Eventually they find a building with easy access to the ground floor. The air is tense with silence as Five listens to the harsh clangs of their feet on metal. He’s finally set down to walk on his own after they touch down. The trio maneuver through the back alleyways and cramped roads, Luther keeping a grip so hard on his shoulder that it might rip out of his socket if he does anything but comply.

He forgot the book.

Five inhales in surprise, stuttering in his steps at the horrific epiphany. Luther harshly pushes him forward, a bruising grip nearing his collarbone.

“Don’t even try.” The man hisses.

He doesn’t have Reginald’s journal. He can’t believe he’s forgotten something so crucial in the mission. The authorities can’t get their hands on that. No one can get their hands on that. The journal is devastatingly crucial for everyone to believe him as well. How could he convince Vanya to learn to embrace and control her powers if there’s no proof? How could he show them that Leonard had possessed the journal all along? His mind whirls as they continue their trek, the familiar street of their house finally moving into view at last.

“Well, well, well!” Rings a familiar voice. “A family outing and I wasn’t invited?”

The three turn to the source of the sound, finding Klaus smoking a joint as the man leans against the alley brick wall. Klaus gives them a lazy grin and a salute as he takes them all in. When his hazel eyes reach Five that amusement fades, slowly growing into light confusion as he flicks to Luther’s white-knuckled grip.

“What uh-what’d the little rascal do?”

“Try killing multiple people.” Luther grits, jerking him forward.

Klaus raises an eyebrow, looking down at Five with a curious squint. It's getting more difficult to maintain composure when Luther's constant touch feels like its burning into his skin. He attempts to jerk away and is rewarded with another harsh shove. He stumbles again before slowly righting himself. The adrenaline has far worn off by now. His body is protesting.

“Hey hey hey-take it easy big guy. Looks like he’s not exactly going anywhere.” Klaus defends with a frown, straightening up.

“Klaus just-we don’t have time for your-you.” Allison says tiredly, massaging her temples.

Klaus puts a hand to his heart, eyes wide in mock offense. “Ouch. I’m hurt, dear Allison.”

“Holy shit, what happened? He looks beat up. His poor knees-“

Five blinks forcibly, turning his head in confusion towards Ben’s voice.

“Yeah yeah yeah okay, but…” Klaus trails off, eyes widening as he takes in Five’s form again. “Jesus kid, what’d they do to you?” he frowns, stepping forward in front of him.

“Klaus.” Luther frowns sternly.

“Yeah no-you know what? Why don’t you just take a chill pill for a second okay? Like, what is he gunna do? Look at him!” Klaus grins, gesturing to Five’s disheveled form.

Luther bristles. “He tried to kill-“

“It was a calculated action to get you to let me go, you idiot!” Five interrupts heatedly. “Do you really think I hadn’t done the math?” Five bites back. “You told me to submit otherwise you’d use force and then you rumored me!” he seethes, still angry from the embarrassment of that near-failure.

“That’s different Five! We were trying to stop you from hurting others!” Allison retorts emotionally.

“As if you can act justified about what you did.” Five seethes, voice quiet with anger. “Manipulating your own family to follow your personal agenda.”

“Oh, and what is your agenda, Five? Murder?” Luther barks.

“Yes! To kill the person responsible for the start of the apocalypse!” Five glares, gritting his teeth as he stares up at his brother. He jerks angrily in Luther’s harsh grip.

Luther releases him with hard eyes and a tense frame. It’s almost as if the man wants to be challenged just to have the excuse to fight.

“This isn't like our childhood anymore! There aren’t good guys and bad guys Luther! There are just, people!” he yells angrily, turning to fully face his brother’s looming figure.

“Innocent people!”

Five holds his ground, staring up into his brother’s eyes with intent. “People who carve cute little wooden figures in their shop, and use that to hide their manipulation and deceit. People who come from a broken childhood, but then choose not to let it define them. People who kill but who do it to protect their family! Your world isn’t black and white!” he shouts, flinging his arms out to gesture around them.

Klaus holds up his hands with wide eyes, the burst of tension flying from everyone’s mouths overwhelming. “Woah-okay, let’s just- “

Luther grabs his wrist, tugging it to get him to stumble forward. “And you’re saying you’re justified killing all those men tonight. You think you’re somehow the judge of who gets to live and who gets to die?”

“The only reason you’re not agreeing with me is because you know as well as I do, if you actually opened your damn eyes, you’d realize all this time that dad did-“

The hand on his wrist tightens, and Five winces, cutting off his words. He can feel the bones grind together in strain.

“Don’t.” Luther warns quietly.

“Hey-woah wait-just- “Klaus calls, a thread of concern sneaking into his voice.

“Klaus, do something!”

“That dad did the same thing. He judged the world. He chose who got to live, and die, and suffer for his own agenda.” Five smiles bitterly. “Except he didn’t just do it himself did he? He got kids to do his work for him.” he sneers, allowing his resentment to pour into his words.

Luther winds back his arm and Five thinks he might die by a single punch of all things. It’s a very pathetic way to go.

“Luther! Don't!” Allison exclaims.

“KLAUS!”

“Stop!” Klaus shouts, stepping in front of Five, his arm flung out in front of his shorter brother’s chest protectively.

Luther stops.

“Je-esus! As much as I’m a fan of watching siblings beat each other up, it feels a little wrong to abuse a kid. Right?” Klaus grins, body practically thrumming with nervous amusement. "I mean let's not go for the whole child abuse route you know what I mean? I think we already had enough of that back in the day." he laughs with a high trilling noise.

Luther breathes harshly through his nostrils, his rage already dimming into hurt. His hand drops to his side as he looks to Allison with lost eyes, unable to figure out how to take control of the situation. Their sister just shakes her head.

“Luther, the damage has been done. Please just…let’s just be done with it.” She whispers, shaking her head.

She doesn’t wait for the man to answer, instead hugging herself and making her way around to the front entrance of the house. Luther watches her go with a forlorn gaze, turning his attention back to Klaus and Five with defeat. In the end, the man doesn’t say anything, turning in guilty resignation to enter the house and mull over the ways he’s failed his father tonight.

“Holy shit.” Klaus breathes out shakily, running a shaky hand through his dark unruly locks. “Mentioning dear old dad? Are you trying to get yourself killed or what?” he murmurs with a laugh, turning back to look down at Five with a wobbly grin.

His heart aches.

“Klaus, you need to comfort him.”

“Look shorty I uh- “Klaus approaches awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “We should probably talk about that whole…thing with your chest and the hearing thing that happened earlier.” Klaus frowns, giving Five a once over. “Your hand and wrists too…” he mumbles with a concerned furrow of his brow

“Skip to the comforting part please. Hug him faster.”

Klaus lightly crouches down to meet him at eye level. The man gives him a lazy lopsided smile, but those vivid hazel eyes shine with sharp attention. Five allows him to glance over the multitude of scrapes and bruises he’s already accumulated over the course of the evening with a disapproving hum.

He misses Klaus so much.

“Are you not able to read him well? Well let me tell you that I can, so if you could hurry it up because out window of opportunity is closing- “

Klaus hugs him.

Five inhales deeply, closing his eyes at the gentler arms of his brother wrapping around him affectionately. He stays stiff in the embrace, fists clenching and releasing as he fights the urge to just lay it all bare to one of the only people that had believed in him the first time around. He listens to his brother's heartbeat beat steadily away, a reminder of the very life he's trying so hard to fight for. It's comforting.

“It’s going to be alright. Whatever you’re up to, we trust you.” Ben says softly, even though he knows he can’t be heard.

Five can hear him.

He allows himself a moment of weakness. Just a moment.

Five wraps his arms around his brother, leaning into the hug with tired submission. His fingers clutch at the man’s jacket, closing his eyes and breathing in the warmth and kindness the other exudes. Just a moment. He pulls away, but Klaus just hugs him tighter with a hum.

“Can’t just hug me back then do takesie backsies.” The man grins.

“Stop hugging me.” Five demands dully, ignoring the ache in his heart.

Klaus relents, releasing him with a dramatic sigh. “You okay, kid?”

“Don’t call me that.” He mutters.

The man snorts in amused disbelief, shaking his head. Maybe it would be okay to talk to Klaus. Now that Leonard Peabody is dead, the main issue has been eradicated. The only thing he really needs to do now is prove to his siblings that the man had Reginald’s journal and was going to use it for his own person gain.

The journal.

“Shit.” He breathes.

“What, you alright? You injured? Well-you’re definitely injured, but are you injured in a gotta take you to emerg-“

“I need you to get me cab.” Five requests.

Klaus raises an interested eyebrow. “Oh? And where, pray tell are we going?”

“I need to go somewhere.”

“Well, where are we going?”

Five sighs in defeat. “We’re going to get the important documents you threw in the dumpster, Klaus.”

A pause.

“Oh. Yeah okay-good idea.”

"Great idea."

Five fights down an amused smile.

Chapter Text

There’s an arm wrapped around his shoulders. His head is resting on something soft, but it has a firmness to it. Five doesn’t realize he’s almost fallen asleep in the cab until he feels his pillow slightly shift under him. His awareness slowly comes into play as his brain sluggishly connects it to breathing.

Klaus.

Five jerks into jumbled awareness, body so badly wanting to sleep but unable to fully commit to the rest he needs due to his own stubborn mind. His blurred vision focuses to find himself in the back of the cab, the city streets scrolling by. Apparently, he had slumped against Klaus at some point. He doesn’t know when that happened.

“Damn. He almost fell asleep for a second. He looks exhausted.”

“Aw~” Klaus coos softly in endearment, the hand around Five pulling him a bit closer to the man’s body.

“What?” Five croaks in disorientation, pushing himself off of his brother’s shoulder in growing awareness.

“Thought you might have dozed off, but looks like you’re so uptight that you can’t even fall asleep.” Klaus teases with a lazy smile.

Embarrassed, he plucks the man’s hand off of his person, allowing Klaus to retract his arm and drape it over the back of the seat instead. Five puts some distance between him and his brother, squishing himself against the window. He pointedly stares out of it and Klaus chuckles in response.

It’s humiliating.

“Don’t push it. He’s tired and apparently has been in some dangerous situations today. Maybe you should actually ask him to elaborate about what’s been going on.” Ben chides.

Five wonders if Ben is a mother hen to everyone or if for some reason it’s only directed at him.

His heart feels a bit warm at the thought regardless.

“Soooo. How do you know where the uh, important things are that I might have, perhaps, by some crazy freak accident, thrown away?” Klaus approaches cautiously, running a tongue along the front of his teeth.

Five looks over to Klaus with a raise of his eyebrow and a dull expression.

“It’s so nice that someone else has to put up with you now, and not just me. Maybe Five can help you develop a brain cell of your own!” Ben teases.

Klaus grins innocently.

“Because I’ve been here before.” He mumbles honestly, running a tired hand over his face. “And after you apparently throw the journal and papers away, someone takes it and they use it for their own personal gain.”

Klaus just frowns, raising an eyebrow in interest.

Five is pretty sick of explaining this over and over. He allows himself a deep breath, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture as he stares back out the window. Unexpectedly, Klaus grabs his wrist, pulling his hand over. Five jerks his head over to stare at him in surprised perplexity, tugging lightly in refusal. Klaus grips on it tighter though, bringing Five’s hand up closer for inspection.

“What happened to your hand here?” he asks, flicking his hazel eyes up to level Five with a stare.

Five tugs his arm harder in angry befuddlement, untangling it from his brother’s grasp.

“Just a bit scraped from concrete. It’s irrelevant.”

“I’m talking about the gash across your entire palm that’s been there since day one.” Klaus presses with a tight smile.

Five breathes, hesitantly opening his palm to stare at his hand. It’s a bit scraped up, raw from harshly falling onto the pavement, but there’s no cut to speak of. That hadn’t happened this time through.

“There’s nothing there. You’re imagining things, because you’re high.” he bites with a roll of his eyes.

“Why bother lying, dear?” Klaus smiles lazily with a quicker retort than usual. “You’re a plenty smart cookie. Playing dumb doesn’t seem like your style, I gotta say.” The man laughs lightly, but his eyes are searching Five intently, knowingly.

“Klaus...” Ben starts hesitantly. “Don't push him- “

Klaus waves him off in light agitation.

“Five, why are you- “

“I’m not.” Five snaps.

There’s a silence throughout the cab, and Five can only be thankful that there’s a small divider between them and the driver. Klaus seems to mull over the denial slowly, scratching his chin in thought.

“Hey…” Klaus starts tenderly. “Just tell me what happened. You know I believe you, yeah?” his brother eventually asks, his voice a gentle timbre. “Nothing is too crazy for your big bro Klaus.”

Five hates gentle things. Softly spoken words, tender smiles, gentle eyes. He hates it. It all makes him feel as if he’s been opened up and exposed to the world, showing all of his weaknesses and vulnerabilities. He hates gentle things.

He hates it because he doesn’t understand it.

He hates it because he doesn’t deserve it.

His hand automatically rubs at his chest. It’s unnecessary. He’s alive. He’s breathing. This sort of nervous habit is an indicator of weakness. An exploit. And yet, he clutches at the fabric tightly anyways before forcing himself to release his clawed grip.

“I died.” He admits bluntly, not knowing how else to approach such a topic.

Klaus breathes a heavy inhale, letting that sentence sink in fully.

The cab feels stifling.

“Okay.” Klaus accepts slowly. “Okay…but you’re…” he starts, reaching out and setting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yes. I’m alive now.” He mutters, brushing the man’s hand off with a softer force than usual. “But I died in a previous timeline, failed I suppose. Then I woke up again, and…” he trails off.

And.

And what?

He doesn’t know, and that’s what scares him. He doesn’t know why he woke up again. He doesn’t know why he’s back to the day of his father’s funeral. He doesn’t know why this is his third time doing this. Why had he somehow been transported back here? It didn’t even make sense in the context, as he had died. He hadn’t used his powers to go back in time. He had just, died.

He’s always had answers, but he doesn’t have them now.

“He's scared, say or-do something.”

He’s not that open of a book, is he? Klaus looks conflicted, as if he’s mulling the action over, but not wanting to press too hard. It’s humiliating. Or it would be, if it wasn’t Klaus. Someone who, for some reason, actually cares about him regardless of the scenario.

“Could I hug you, maybe?” Klaus tries with a sheepish smile.

Five slowly shakes his head in refusal, throat feeling tight. This sort of thing couldn’t be agreed to when it was made a choice, regardless of his preference. He’s already allowed too many moments for himself.

He nibbles on his lip, wondering if he should stick to staying as detached as possible, or if he should try and allow Klaus and Ben in once again. They had been good to him last time. They believed him. Now that Leonard was out of the way, there wasn’t an immediate threat about the apocalypse.

It annoys him, that he even has to debate with himself internally like this. It’s proof he’s getting soft. He shouldn’t be trying to make compromises with his own self, it’s foolish.

 “You should hug him anyways.” Ben huffs, as if he’s disappointed in Klaus for being considerate.

He’s so tired. Can’t he just try to put his trust in someone? Klaus and Ben had never been the problem the first time.

Five turns his head away, resolutely staring out the window. His hand however, reaches for his brother’s hand in tentative hesitation. He can hear Klaus hum in question as their palms bump together. Five allows their fingers to slowly intertwine with one another, a soft exhale falling out of his lips.

This is okay.

He likes knowing his sibling is there in the moment. Living. Breathing. Surviving.

“Oh.” Klaus breathes tenderly, his bony fingers intertwining and curling tightly back in response.

“You were the only one there for me when I…” Five swallows, watching the dark streets pass by in a blur. “When I had to start over again. You and Ben.” He murmurs.

Klaus is silent for a moment. “So then, you already know about- “

“I think I might be able to hear him too.” Five admits softly, turning to look at Klaus hesitantly.

“He can…hear me? You can-” Ben asks in a breathless tone.

That shouldn’t make sense. The man doesn’t need to breathe after all, he’s dead.

“During our little rainy rendezvous in the yard! You did hear him then?” Klaus asks eagerly, a slow smile widening on his face.

Fives nods.

“Five…?”

He turns towards the source of the voice. It’s annoying he can’t see Ben even though he can hear him, even if the man’s voice is slightly muffled.

“Oh shit, wait you really can.” Klaus whispers with an awed smile.

“It sounds a bit strange but yes, I can.” He mutters. “I cannot see you however...” he mutters, addressing Ben directly.

Ben is silent in response. Five feels as if he might have done something wrong. Anything he’s about to say is cut off by the cab slowing to its destination. Five pushes open the door, while Klaus fumbles in his pockets with a disappointed groan. He’s probably using the rest of his drug money to pay for the cab, choosing to forgo his usual nightly activity to follow him around the city.

It makes him feel loved.

Five shuts the cab door, blinking to orient his blurry vision. He should have eaten more than an apple. Apparently, he hadn’t learned his lesson from last time. Five slowly makes his way onto the sidewalk, feet idly stepping into a puddle of leftover rain. He requested an address about a block away from Leonard’s shop, not wanting to pull up right at the address directly in case there’s already law enforcement patrolling the scene.

If he’s lucky they haven’t arrived yet.

He breathes deeply, allowing the cold air to ground him. It’s too cold, but he doesn’t mind it as much as he should. He’s spent so long being sifting through smoke and fire that even though he’s shivering, he’s not back there. That’s all that really matters.

“Five?”

Five turns around in surprise at the sound of Ben’s voice.

“Ben.” He greets to empty air, not understanding the sudden spike of anxiety that makes his heart skip a beat.

“You can really hear me. Oh my god.” Ben breathes, a hint of laughter echoing through the air.

He nods, speechless. What does he say? What can he possibly say to Ben?

Ben, who was his best friend besides Vanya. Ben, who would laugh about literature and novels in the dead of night far past curfew with him. Ben, who would adamantly declare that Five had the softest eyes out of all the siblings, its just the others didn’t look hard enough. Ben, who would rub his back when he was puking or heaving his guts out after being forced into chaining his warps far past what he could handle. Ben, who always searched for him when he needed a hug or someone to ground him when the darkness was getting too crowded in his head.

Ben who he had never gotten to say goodbye to.

His expression crumples before he can control it, the hurt shimmering in his eyes before he ducks his face down into his palm, angrily rubbing at one of his eyes. He’s tired. He’s emotional. His composure is more than a little cracked.

“Hey-hey don’t get upset, this is a great thing…it is!”

“I’m not.” He says tensely, his voice cracking lightly in emotion.

“I’m sorry. You must be going through so much. But...Well I’m also selfish, so I can’t help but be elated we can talk to each other. I’ve missed you Five. So much.”

Ben always had a knack for being gentle too. Maybe it’s why he can’t help but love and hate it so much. Even though the man’s voice is older and not the familiar one he grew up with, there isn’t any doubt that it’s Ben. No one else could say such a thing and mean it so whole-heartedly in a way that makes Five’s heart glow with warmth.

He can only nod, swallowing thickly. He’s a coward. He doesn’t know what to say, because there’s too much he wants to say. He wants so much for Ben to know how sorry he is for not being there for him. For not being there in the end.

Maybe if he had been there, his brother wouldn’t have died at all.

Or maybe that’s his delusions of grandeur talking again.

“Hey. C’mon. You pick tonight. I think I deserve one after all this time.”

His heart stutters in his chest in recognition, face turning warm with a jumble of mixed emotions. He stares down at the dark sidewalk for too long.

“We shouldn’t waste time.” He mutters.

“Come on Five.” Ben gently urges. Five can hear the wide smile in his words. “We can do it quick while Klaus gets out.”

Five blinks a couple more times then necessary, exhaling deeply before he cranes his neck up to stare at the sky. Even at night, it’s hard to truly see what he’s looking for due to the city lights blanketing it in a hazy fog. Eventually he finds one he’s satisfied with, reaching up and pointing up at a star.

“That one.” He mutters.

Ben is silent for a moment as he searches in the direction of the sky Five is pointing at. “Okay. Found it.”

“That’s our star for tonight.”

“Why that one?

“You know why.”

“C’mon, don’t break script.” Ben laughs.

He hesitates. “Because it’s the brightest one.”

“Okay. So it’s my turn to make the wish, and if you guess it then it’ll come true.”

He nods, feeling silly. Childish.

Once upon a time they would sit at the windowsill, or the roof if they were feeling rebellious, and try and find the brightest star shining through the fog of the city. Five doesn’t know when it became a routine, probably during a bad night where one of them needed a distraction. But that little moment was just for them, searching for a hidden treasure among a fog. It had all started as a joke. Ben was discussing the trend in fairy tales about characters wishing on a star, and in a cosmic work of magic, it always came true for the protagonist. They had a laugh at that, knowing even at a young age that stars were just spheroids held together by their own gravity. There was nothing magical about that.

Five had sarcastically wished for a new father.

Ben wished for new books to read.

Eventually funny wishes for wanting a better uniform or wishing Klaus hadn’t eaten all of the snacks warped into more serious ones. A hope that Luther would join them more in sneaking out for donuts when they were all together. A want for Diego to find his confidence. An appeal to Allison to be comfortable enough to not turn to her powers as a failsafe. A prayer for Klaus so he wouldn’t have to be afraid ever again. An askance for Vanya to come join them so she wouldn’t be lonely.

A begging hope that Ben could learn how to love himself.

A plea for Five’s silent sadness to be taken away.

A wish to escape.

Then the wishes eventually warped into one wish that stayed the same for years and years up until Five disappeared.

“Did you wish that…” Five starts, trailing off softly.

“You know what I wished for. C’mon, play along for me.”

Five swallows. It seemed easier to say this when it was a routine. When they were younger. When he wasn’t so afraid to show his smile to a person he trusted with his life and his heart. He shakes his head, unable to continue along with the routine that is still ingrained into him after all this time.

“I-we’re not kids anymore Ben.” He mumbles, glancing down the street.

“I don’t need to be a kid to tell you how much I...love you though, Five. To wish that you’d always know that.”

Every time such a declaration is made on his behalf, it seems to steal the very air in his lungs.

He doesn’t know why he can’t say it back. He does love Ben. He loves Ben so much that it makes his heart soar and spirit light.

Klaus gets out of the cab with a mulish expression, likely agitated his funds are now depleted. He shuts the cab door lightly, a dramatic sigh falling out of his lips. Five watches the man turn in confusion, eyes lighting up in recognition when he sees Five and Ben on the secluded sidewalk. Guilt consumes him for feeling relieved to not continue this conversation with Ben.

“Did you two kids have fun while daddy took care of the finances?” the man grins.

Five chews on the inside of his cheek.

“Five can really hear me, isn’t that amazing Klaus?” Ben says in good spirits, apparently not put out by his lack of response.

“Fan-tastic! Maybe now you can bug him with your moral mumbo jumbo instead of me!” Klaus grins, rubbing his hands together. “Okay! So where to, kiddo?”

“It’s just down the street. We’re going to loop around to the back entrance.” Five explains as the trios begins their trek.

“Why are the documents over here? You mentioned someone actually took them?”

Klaus groans in relief. “Oh, thank god I don’t have to ask all the questions. This is already amazing.”

“Leonard Peabody, or rather, Harold Jenkins finds dad’s documentations about all of us. He uses this information to get close to Vanya as a revenge tactic on us. It doesn’t just end up hurting her though, it ends up destroying the entire planet.”

“Is that what happened to you?” Ben demands.

Five hesitates.

“Yes. At one point it did. I tried to warp us all back to the past so we could correct the mistakes as children, but instead I simply woke up on the day of dad’s funeral again. And the second time- “he cuts off.

Klaus turns his head slowly to stare at Five with a light frown. “Yeees? The second time?” he pushes lightly, wanting elaboration.

Rope. Wounds. Blood. Death.

“I told you. I died.”

“How?”

It’s irrelevant. We just need the documentation that Leonard Peabody has and this can all be avoided.” He bites out a bit harsher than needed.

The three cross the street. Five eyes Leonard’s shop down the street. Familiar flashing red and blue lights from cop cars meet his vision surrounding the store.

“Ugh, too late.” He hisses.

Eventually they make it around the back of the store, the damp parking lot reflecting the night lights on the ground. There’s yellow tape preventing access to the crime scene, only allowing them to stare from a distance. Five is dismayed to see several police members already investigating inside, the door wide open showing the interior of the shop.

A chill runs down his spine seeing the familiar environment. The last time he was here it had been so different. Leonard’s body had already been removed from the scene, the only thing left a white outline of where the body had fallen. A warm hand settles on his shoulder, making him lightly jump in reaction.

“You good, shorty?” Klaus smiles.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” He frowns, swatting half-heartedly at the man. “Of course I am.”

“There’s a story there.” Ben chimes in, calling out the fib.

Five stares at the empty air in sour frustration.

Klaus laughs awkwardly. “Yeah uh, he can hear you now, remember Benny boy?”

“I-wow, right.” Comes the embarrassed voice of his ghostly brother. “Sorry. Guess I have to get used to that.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” a familiar voice calls out to them.

Diego.

The trio turn to stare at their brother who is all decked out in his usual combat gear. The man is crossing his arms, leaning against the wall of the building.

“Thought I caught a glimpse of you guys walking across the street.” Diego frowns, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” Klaus retorts with interest.

“I’m investigating.” Diego gestures to the building.

“No, you’re not Diego.” Barks a female voice.

Well this is just turning into a party now, isn’t it?

Five can see the deer in headlights expression on Diego’s face before the man quickly covers it up with a resigned groan. Eudora Patch walks out of the shop with a sigh, tucking dark strands behind her ear.

“How many times do we need to go through this?” Patch announces as she turns towards Diego, leveling the man with an exasperated glare. “You’re. Not. Welcome. Here. Get out of the crime scene, or I’m cuffing you.”

“I’m doing my job! Come on Eudora- “

“Do not call me that!”

Five, Ben, and Klaus stand around the perimeter idly. Five crosses his arms as he listens to the former lovers fight, Klaus giggling in amusement at the entertainment. He can hear Ben groan in exasperation in his ear. He’s inclined to agree.

“Wish we had some popcorn.” Klaus whispers.

“You know none of this adds up!” Diego protests. “This guy was a nobody. It can’t have been a robbery, what are they gunna steal? A chair? The work is far too clean for that. The bullet went straight through the guy’s head with pristine precision, and the bullet- “

“Diego.” Eudora interrupts, holding up a hand. “How about you let me do my job, you know, the thing I’m hired legally to do, and you leave with your…brothers here.” She says, gesturing to them. “Why did you bring them in the first place?”

Diego pushes off the wall in frustration, throwing out his arms. “I didn’t!”

“Just leave.” Patch grounds out, levelling the man with a serious stare before she returns inside the shop.

“Ooooo someone got in trouble~” Klaus singsongs.

Diego turns toward them with a murderous glare, turning his embarrassment into anger. “Why the hell are you guys around here? What sort of fucked up combo is this?” he asks, gesturing to Five and Klaus with agitated caution.

“We’re bonding!” Klaus grins widely, bouncing on the front of his feet.

“Sibling bonding, remember?” Ben laughs.

What?

“Sibling bonding!” Klaus repeats.

“Sibling bonding...” Five mutters in light bewilderment, the familiar phrasing lightly perplexing him.

Diego levels them with a dull stare in disbelief. “…Sibling bonding.”

“Yep!” Klaus chimes with a hearty pop on the syllable.

Diego looks at them mystified, walking towards his brothers. “Why does it feel like you two teaming up will be a walking disaster for anyone in your path.”

Five responds with a wide grin full of teeth.

“A red book initialed with golden letters on the front of the cover. Did you happen to see that in the store?” Five asks.

The man raises a suspicious eyebrow at Five. “Any evidence would be going to the police station.”

“But did you see it in there.” He presses in agitation.

If Leonard didn’t take it to the shop in the first place, then there’d be an issue of tracking down the man’s house and breaking in that way.

“I might have seen a book or something.” Diego admits.

“Before they kicked him out of the building and let him wander outside aimlessly on the scene.” Ben snorts.

Diego frowns, resting his hands on his holster to look intimidating and in charge. "Not that it's any of your business. So why don't you tell me what you're doing here? How did you even know about that?"

Shit. Everything needs to be a hassle doesn’t it? Of course they couldn't just get here before the police and snatch the book before any issues.

Five sighs heavily. “Fine.” He mutters. “Fine. Then there’s nothing else I need here. I’m leaving.” He grits out in frustration, turning and walking away.

“Are you-are you going to break into the police station?”

“That’s the plan.”

Diego frowns. “Wait-What’s the plan? What are you two even doing?”

Klaus turns to his confused brother with a wide grin and a wiggle of his fingers. His palm tattoo reads ‘Good bye’, the message loud and clear. Diego shouts at them in confusion, debating if he wants to follow his siblings or if he wants to try and press his luck at the crime scene.

“Time for a heist, fellas.”

“Fuck yeah! This is way better than drugs!” Klaus whoops, punching a fist into the air. “Ooh-Oooh! Can I be the sexy one who hacks into the cameras with a troubled past? But oh god, my lipstick is so on point and my dialogue so sexily scathing that you wouldn’t even know it?”

“I-What?” Five asks in familiar confusion that can only come with talking to Klaus.

“We're casting ourselves? Okay I call the person who is morally gray but lives for the adrenaline rush. Easily the best fighter out of the squad.”

“Five can be the suave super spy!” Klaus giddily announces. “Like he doesn’t always come around because he’s just so mysterious, but when he does you just know it’s going to be a good episode.”

“Everyone loves a James Bond.”

“You’re taking the fact that I’m about the break the law, very well.” Five muses as the three walk across the street.

“We’re breaking the law, darling. We’re the Sexy Spy Squad!”

“Super Spy Squad sounds better, though it’s unoriginal.”

“Stupid Spy Squad is more like it.” Five snorts.

“Ouch!” Klaus dramatically presses a hand to his heart. “You’re not stupid Five!”

“Neither am I but I have definitely lost brain cells hanging around you, so I guess that’s fair.”

“I feel so singled out right now.” Klaus simpers with a pathetic whine.

He's missed this.

“Really Five, it’s okay though. Klaus already said it, but we believe you. If we have to get that book for the fate of the world, then that’s what we’ll do. You’re the one with the experience here. Even if you didn't have it, we'd still trust you."

Five pushes down the warmth growing in his heart. “You don’t need to get involved though. I can do this myself.”

“Too bad~ You’re stuck with us!” Klaus grins.

Five nods idly, not trying to fight terribly hard against them tagging along.

Time for a heist.

Chapter Text

Five only made it about two blocks before his vision tipped sideways once more, a familiar vertigo enveloping him. He stumbles over his own feet, throwing an awkward hand out to catch his fall. He can hear Ben shout, the familiar hands of Klaus quickly attempting to steady him.

“I’m fine.” He breathes out faintly, mouth on autopilot.

He’s been going too long without rest. The fight on the roof followed by the race to Leonard Peabody while trying to fight his own siblings off had more than taken its toll. Then the walk back and now this. But there’s still too many things that need to be done. If he could just get the book, he’d at least have peace of mind that this all wouldn’t be linked back to his family.

He slowly straightens up, batting his brother’s hovering hands away with feeble exasperation.

“I’m fine. We need to get the journal.” He emphasizes, trying to draw his sibling’s attention back to the matter at hand.

Five wipes some cold sweat beading onto his brow away with the back of his hand, trying to blink away the dark spots dancing in his vision. It’s fine. He’s managed to push through a lot tonight, he can go a bit longer. His knees ache and his body feels sluggish, but it’s a familiar weariness that he’s battled for his entire childhood. This is all easy enough to power through.

“It’s your energy, right? You haven’t properly rested and replenished after jumping. You can’t do that Five.” Ben chides fretfully. “It never worked before and it won’t work now.”

“Look. I just need to get that journal. I’m not going to stop until I get it. I already told you that I can do it myself.” Five bites out stubbornly.

“Aha yeah okay, but uh, can you stand by yourself?” Klaus chimes in, a cheeky smile tilted on his face.

Five clenches his jaw tightly, pushing Klaus away from his person as he tries to steady himself. Standing shouldn’t be such a hassle, but his limbs are heavy as if they’re being weighed down by chains. He runs an agitated hand through his hair as he straightens up.

“You’re pushing too hard, Five. Why don’t you rest than we can get the-“

“No!” Five snaps. “That’s not an option. So, you two can either get out of my way, or stop talking.”

Ben goes silent and Five pushes down the regret pooling in his stomach. He lets himself inhale deeply through his nostrils, grounding himself to the present.

“Okay but like-why is the journal important?” Klaus asks awkwardly.

Five whirls around to face Klaus with disbelief in his angry eyes. “What do you even mean? You practically threw away a walking bomb, Klaus!” he hisses. “That journal contains the old man’s thoughts, experiments, and detailed studies of all of us! Our strengths, our weaknesses, our fears, our deepest vulnerabilities!”

Klaus frowns, giving a light sniff. “Look I mean-yeah that shit sounds bad but like. Why does it matter if the police have it?”

Five stares at his brother in mystified agitation.

“I’m just saying!” Klaus holds up his hands defensively. “Like you killed the guy who was going to use it for the end of the world or whatever right? So who cares if the police have it?”

“Because it will link our family to the crime.” Five explains slowly, agitation in his eyes.

“But so what? We didn’t do- “

“I did!” Five yells in agitation. “I killed him! Was that not clear?” he shouts angrily, throwing his hands out into the air.

“Five, it’s okay. You look pale. Try and take some deep breaths.”

“I’m fine!” Five seethes. “Even if I didn’t do it, that doesn’t mean we should just let the police have a hold of that journal. It has- “he cuts himself off.

“What? What does it have in there?” Ben asks softly.

Did Klaus have a point? Was Reginald’s journal really okay in the police department’s hands? If anything, it would just connect Leonard’s obsession further, as they would likely investigate the man’s home as well and find all of the strange eerie Umbrella Academy memorabilia there. But that also leaves the matter of his death. Five made a perfect shot, but anything linking the family to that man unnerves him.

“No one should have that book!” Is what he ends up adamantly, glaring up at his brother with a stubbornly clenched jaw.

“Okay! Okay okay, how about we just relax for a second.” Klaus concedes, reaching out a tentative hand towards Five in worry. “You know Benny boy might have a point, though right? Can’t exactly get it like this when you can barely- “

Five immediately backs up out of reach, confused at what direction his thoughts should be in right now. Were his emotions too attached to the situation at hand? Should he really care if the police have the journal? But what if Reginald had made notes about the apocalypse as well? Klaus the first time around had mentioned the dead man apparently had some sort of knowledge about it approaching, and killed himself to bring them back together.

There are so many questions left unanswered.

“No. I need that journal. Now.” He reaffirms with a deep breath and a steady resolve.

“Five. Don’t try and- “

 “What the hell are you two doing?” Diego’s voice rings out in the late night harshly, the man stalking towards the three in agitation across the street. “You didn’t honestly think I’d just let you wander off after what you said, right?”

“Oh for-” Five cuts himself off due to frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The last thing he needs is his temperamental crime fighting sibling to add into the pot with the junkie and the mother hen. A cornucopia of disaster laid out right in front of him.

“No. I don’t have time for this.” He announces swiftly, turning.

His body didn’t appreciate the movement. He trips over his own feet, cursing his own ineptitude out as he does. Diego’s hand clamps onto his shoulder steadily, helping him stay upright. Five breathes harshly through his nose as he waits for the world to stop spinning.

“What’s wrong with him?” Diego barks to Klaus, protective hands moving to grab his other arm to help keep him steady.

“Nothing!” Five hisses.

“Oh you know how it is. He’s busy saving the world and then Luther and Allison got in the way a teeny bit and were pushing him along and-well really I’m not entirely sure!” Klaus laughs, scratching lightly at his stubble. “I’m just sort of along for the ride you know? We gotta get that book though.”

“Klaus!” Ben exclaims with agitation. “Don’t just mention the book when Diego is already suspicious!”

“Well jeeze, I don’t know man!”

Diego moves around in front of Five, kneeling down to observe him with hard brown eyes. Five watches in humiliated embarrassment as Diego scans his person for any form of injury. He tries to jerk out of the man’s grip, but Diego isn’t as relenting as Klaus, only tightening his hold on Five’s shoulders to stay attached.

“You hurt?” the man eventually asks with a casual tone, eyes lingering on his bloodied knees.

“No. So if you’ll excuse me- “

“Who roughed you up then?” Diego demands. “You look like shit, Five.”

Five squints at the man in disbelief. “That is entirely irrelevant to the matter at hand. There are things that need to be- “

“Who did it?” Diego presses. “Why’s Klaus talking about Luther and Allison? Did they do this?”

“It’s none of your business.” Five hisses, staring angrily up into his brother’s eyes.

“It is my business if someone hurt you!” Diego shouts right back at him in frustration, giving Five’s shoulders a small shake.

Diego is confusing. Five doesn’t understand how someone so angry and so quick to resort to violence can also be so fiercely protective and loyal. The man can dish out the cruelest of insults to his own family, hitting the spots where he knows it hurts the most, but then won’t hesitate to behave in this way. It’s contradictory and strange.

And he really doesn’t have time for it.

Five warps through the man’s grip, stumbling out the other side with a shaky exhale. The action makes him dizzy with effort, but his feet continue forward in an unsteady pace. He needs to think about a next course of action. Should he go to the police station alone? Should he try and warp into the crime scene and see If the book is still there? The police are still investigating the scene, so clearly the evidence hasn’t been taken back to the police department yet. Maybe he could just push his luck.

“Hey now, don’t leave your poor brothers all alone shortstack!” Klaus whines after him.

“Five, wait! There’s nothing wrong with telling Diego what’s going on. I bet he might help even if he knows what’s happening!”

“Five!” Diego calls in frustration.

He can hear Diego’s footsteps rapidly approach him. He’s tired. He’s agitated. He just wants to get this done so he can maybe take a second to have a sandwich and about three margaritas before getting back to the grindstone. Five turns into an alleyway, wanting to cut through the long, secluded area just to get some space. Diego’s gloved hand settles onto his shoulder and he smacks it away harshly. Five whirls around on his sibling with a glare, his jaw clenched in frustration. Every minute he spends trying to explain his endeavors to his siblings is time wasted. Besides, most of them hadn’t even given him the time of day the first or second time. Why would he bother?

Klaus and Ben are enough for him.

Maybe that isn’t fair to say. In the end, Diego had come through for him as well.

But why bother taking the risk?

“In case you haven’t noticed-“ he starts with a hiss. “I don’t need your approval. I don’t need anyone’s approval to do what I’m doing. This is for the good of humanity and the fate of the world so I think I don’t need to explain myself to the likes of you. Luther and Allison already tried to do this ridiculous moral charade but, in the end, I succeeded over them.” He smiles angrily, jaw clenched tight with stress. “I’m always going to be one step ahead, because what I’m doing is important, do you understand?” he asks condescendingly, purposefully trying to rile up his brother’s temper so the man will storm off.

Either that or throw a punch. Wouldn’t be the first sibling that’s tried to lay him out tonight.

“Tell me what the hell is going on with you. Or with this whole crime scene.” Diego demands in a low voice, nostrils flaring in agitation. “How did you specifically know about a piece of evidence and why were you lingering around there at all? I know you Five, you’re not someone to just wander aimlessly around. You always have some sort of motive.”

“Because I’m the one who killed the guy.” Five grins sharply. “And I want that book he has.”

Diego tenses in surprise. “You killed him?”

“I planted a bullet right through his brain is what I did.” He declares, his grin all teeth and no mirth.

Klaus hovers around the corner of the alleyway nervously, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet back up to the tips of them. He can hear the way his brother scratches at his stubble and clears his throat anxiously, hoping the two of them can work out the discussion. Unlikely chance. Diego and holding a decent conversation is like water and oil. It's usually is not something that goes together.

“What’d he do to you?”

Five’s smile dims, eyes furrowing in confusion as he looks up at Diego. “What?”

Diego looks up at the sky for a moment in disbelief, before leveling a pointed gaze at him. “What did he do to you, Five? Did he hurt you?”

Yes.

“Who cares? I did what I had to do for the fate of the world.” Five replies stubbornly, feeling suddenly put on the spot.

“Don’t do that shit man. You think I didn’t see how your posture changed when I asked what happened? You think I didn’t notice your surprise? You hide it well, but I’m the one on the streets every night and I’m the one who deals with this stuff all the time. So, what’d he do?”

“Hate to break up this lovely chat.” Rings a muffled voice from the end of the alley, the loud metallic reload of a gun echoing through the rigid air. "But we have some business to attend to with that kid."

Bright, fun, colored masks stare at him into the darkness, eyes unblinking.

No.

No.

How?

How did they get here so fast?

Five is shoving Diego down onto the floor with a shout before he can even think straight. Diego curses in alarm, back slamming against the damp concrete harshly as a line of bullets whiz right over their head where they had been standing.

“Shit!” he curses, a surge of adrenaline spiking through his body.

“We’d recognize your handiwork anywhere, Number Five.” Cha-Cha announces. “Even as a kid? Tch, still pristine work you do with that sniper rifle.”

“Can’t help but admire it, seriously.” Hazel chimes in, cocking his gun. “I mean the work you do is just, it’s just brilliant, I have to say.”

“Okay, back to business.” Cha-Cha admonishes.

Five grits his teeth as he hugs his sibling tightly, forcing them both through a short warp. It doesn’t get any easier teleporting his siblings along with him even though he knows he has the potential. A shotgun blast rings out as the two tumble out of the warp right beside Klaus, just around the corner of the alley. Nausea rolls harshly through his stomach and Five bends over, shoving a hand against his mouth as he breathes heavily through his nostrils.

Now is just absolutely not the time.

“Five!” Ben frets in worry. “Deep breaths, it’s okay. Breathe through it.”

“What the hell- “What-what’s with the deadly mascots!?” Klaus exclaims fearfully, hovering near Five in worry.

“Who are they!?” Diego shouts as he whirls around in disorientation from the warp, quickly brandishing a blade as he straightens himself out.

“No-stop.” Five breathes, forcing himself up. “There’s no time, we can’t fight them. Those two are the best in their field. You need to leave. Now.”

 “I can take them.” Diego declares, twirling his knife at the ready.

Five lunges for his bull-headed sibling in a flare of panic, clutching onto the man’s wrist tightly. “Stop! Diego, you can’t! I’m telling you, you can’t..” He tells the man seriously, a small amount of desperation leaking through his tone. “You don’t know Hazel and Cha-Cha like I do.”

There’s no time. He can’t account for two other siblings. Klaus isn’t good in fights, and Diego’s stubborn pride could be his downfall. Hazel and Cha-Cha are no joke, regardless of his brother’s fighting capability. Liabilities only make it more complicated.

“Run!” he shouts to his siblings, giving Klaus a shove to get the man going.

Klaus doesn’t waste any time heeding Five’s words, turning tail and immediately booking it down the sidewalk with Ben shouting at his heels. Five steals Diego’s knife right out of his brother’s hand,shoving Diego towards the nearest car. His brother takes the hint, sliding across the hood and crouching on the other side to hide. Five turns to face the assassins who are rounding the corner, giving a heavy exhale.

Dammit. Why do things never go his way?

“Never thought we’d have to hunt down one of our own.” Cha-Cha mutters as the three stare each other down across the sidewalk.

Five doesn’t waste time. As soon as the two assassins lift their guns he warps right through them. He comes out the other side behind them, slashing aggressively with the blade. The knife sloppily sinks itself into the back of Cha-Cha’s shoulder, a far cry from what he actually had wanted to hit. The woman curses, back peddling as she blindly tries to reach for the blade still embedded into her skin.

It’ll have to do.

He lunges onto Hazel’s back with a growl, trying get the man to drop the shotgun. If he can at least get rid of the weaponry, he might stand a better chance. Five squeezes his arms around the man’s thick neck tightly, hearing the man choke out a curse. Hazel’s gun falls onto the concrete with a satisfying clatter. What Five doesn’t expect is for the man’s hands to grab his arms and heave. His world turns upside down for a terrifying moment as Hazel hauls him over his own head like a doll.

“Oh, what the hell!” Hazel shouts with a ragged breath. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit!”

Five’s back slams against the concrete harshly, his breath being stolen from his body as he smashes onto the pavement. His body rings out in agony, too disoriented to warp away. He blinks away the dots in his vision in time to see Diego’s blurred form slam headfirst into Hazel, the two men going down hard onto the ground.

His hand blindly reaches for the shotgun on the ground, the cold metal chilling his palm as he grabs the barrel of the gun. As soon as he orients his grip, Five rolls onto his stomach and up into a crouching position, immediately meeting the barrel of Cha-Cha’s gun.

Several shots ring out into his ears as he warps only several inches to the side, firing his gun off randomly in her direction with a grit of his teeth. It’s sloppy work, a far cry from his usual quality of combat but he’s been through a hell of a day already. She staggers backwards, a splash of blood dripping from the same shoulder he had initially stabbed. Crimson splashes onto the pavement, glimmering slightly as the city light illuminate it in the dark. He tries to haul up the shotgun again to reload but a flare of agony shoots down his body. His fingers lose their grip on the gun as his hands automatically fly to his lower side. He’s been shot, but at least it isn’t critical. The bullet went clean through too.

Small blessings he supposes.

Could be worse.

“Shit.” He rasps in agitation, swooping the gun up once more as his body screams in pain.

“Screw it.” Cha-Cha mutters in the background.

Diego and Hazel are still tussling on the ground, his brother pinned over Hazel and laying several punches into the man’s face. Five starts to move towards the duo when there’s movement in his peripheral vision. He ducks just in time to avoid a roundhouse kick to the face. Five sweeps his leg with a grunt, hitting Cha-Cha’s ankles to send her off-balance. Unfortunately, the woman orients herself quicker than he can, falling into a backwards somersault and up into a standing position. Her acrobatics have always been an admirable trait. There’s no time to even lift the gun up before she’s on top of him, attempting to pry it out of his grip. Five clings to the gun as well as he can, but he’s aware of the disadvantage being pressed upon him as Cha-Cha pins him down with her weight.

“Let. Go!” Cha-Cha grunts, shoving a harsh heel of her palm to grind against his collarbone.

Five shouts in pain, gritting his teeth as he tries to pull the trigger of the gun in between their struggling tug of war. He allows the resistance he’s been fighting for to suddenly go slack, the momentum of Cha-Cha’s tug now too powerful. The gun goes sailing right out of their hands, clattering onto the pavement at a distance. He throws a fist, punching her straight in the throat. The woman falters, stumbling off of his form as she wrenches off her bubblegum pink mask. She gulps in the cold air with a wheeze before sprinting towards the fallen gun.

Five doesn’t give her the chance, and lunges onto her ankle with a clawed grip, tugging with all of his might to send her falling. She goes down hard, bracing her palms against the pavement harshly as she tries to brace herself.

“Get over there and grab it!” Ben shouts the loudest he’s ever heard him, sounding frantic. “DO IT NOW KLAUS!”

“But seriously-Who the-shit! Who the hell are these guys?” Hazel’s voice rings out into the night air, a pained wheeze from Diego signifying that his brother might be in trouble.

There’s suddenly a wide hand on the back of his collar, flinging him away from Cha-Cha and back onto the pavement with a harsh thud. Hazel stares down at him with agitated grey eyes, crouching down over him with a ruffled navy suit and disheveled hair. He lost his mask during the brawl with Diego at some point, and now all Five can do is stare into the exasperated face of a 9-5 assassin.

He wonders if he looks that apathetic when he kills.

Five throws out a punch that the man easily grabs with his hand. The other goes to Five’s neck.

“Would have preferred to give you a cleaner death than this.” Hazel sympathizes softly. “Feels wrong that a legend should go down being choked to death.”

“Just finish it! This is a disaster. We’re going to get in trouble for such sloppy work, and in the middle of the street too.” Cha-Cha rasps, a shift of fabric scraping across the floor indicating she’s getting to her feet. “Don’t want to know how many eyes there are around here.”

Five claws at Hazel’s hand with a vicious desperation, scratching and tearing the man’s skin up in a desperate attempt to free the large hands from his throat. The hands only squeeze tighter, the air cutting off his attempts to breathe. His vision starts to turn black around the edges, slowly making its way to the center.

Not again. Please not again.

There’s a sound of blade slicing through the air, a familiar metallic tang as it hit its mark. Hazel shouts in alarm as a knife embeds itself into the meat of his upper arm, another slicing right through the center of his hand.

“Get the fuck off of him!” Diego shouts, a black blur as he charges into Hazel’s body like an enraged bull.

“Who the hell are these guys!?” Hazel shouts, flinging his hands up to brace himself against Diego’s charge.

The two grapple viciously with each other. Diego shouts in anger as he throws his entire body against Hazel again, toppling the man down along with himself. Five gasps in an inhale, coughing at the strain of pain it sends to his chest. He weakly turns onto his side, trying to push his palm against the concrete to maneuver himself upward.

“Are you kidding me right now Hazel?” Cha-Cha calls in agitation. “Focus the priority!”

“Little busy!” Hazel grunts, avoiding a blade being swung in his direction.

“Gotta do everything myself.” The woman mutters.

The reload of a shotgun reloading gives them pause. Five looks up weakly only to find that it’s actually Klaus holding up the shotgun with shaking hands, pointing it right at the Cha-Cha’s chest. His eyes are wide with adrenaline, a grin on his face as he levels it at the assassin.

“Okay-so uh-why don’t you all just- “Klaus starts awkwardly, licking his lips in jittery anticipation.

“Shoot her.”

Klaus hesitates.

“We just want the boy.” Cha-Cha says calmly, staring down Klaus with a calm gaze. “You have no idea the things he’s done. We’re just here to keep things in balance.”

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea!” Klaus laughs, choking down his own fear.

“Shoot her. DO IT!” Ben shouts in raw anger, the sharpness of his tone sending a shiver down Five’s spine.

Klaus adjusts the gun, finger hovering shakily over the trigger. Klaus who is familiar with speaking to the dead. Klaus who finds entertainment in morbid humor and people fighting. Klaus who is aware of the death surrounding him, but isn’t actually comfortable with it. Klaus who doesn’t want to add another dead ghost into his head.

Of all times for the man to be worthless, this is not one of them.

His vision won’t stop tilting around him, but the fear in his brother’s gaze gives him the adrenaline surge to drag himself up to his knees. The bloody knife that had sunk into Hazel’s hand gleams in his peripheral, catching his eye. The city lights reflect off of the steel as his hand slowly moves over to clutch it.

“What are you doing!? She’s trying to kill Five! She’s trying to kill us, our family!”

Hazel has pinned down Diego again with his weight. His brother smashes his forehead against Hazel's with a snarl, curses tumbling out of both of them as they fall back. The distraction draws the attention of Klaus and that’s all it takes for Cha-Cha to strike. The mobile woman lunges, taking advantage of the opportunity and his brother’s uncertainty.

“KLAUS!“ Ben screams.

He doesn’t have time.

The warp tears his body apart in anger as he forces himself through the resistance. Five lands right behind Cha-Cha, viciously plunging the knife forward into her body with an angry shout. His aim for the back of her skull doesn’t quite land, the knife sinking into the back of her neck instead and dragging downward.

It’ll have to do.

He wrenches the knife out, stumbling back as he does. Warm blood hits his face and stains his blazer as his fingers fumble with the blade. It eventually slips out of his bloody hands so he tackles Cha-Cha down with ferocious anger.

No chances.

“Oh shit.” Hazel curses, a sudden stumbling of feet.

Five pays him no mind as he takes hold of Cha-Cha’s head, the familiar muscle memory all coming into play as he prepares to snap her neck.

“Stop.” Hazel orders. “Otherwise you’re going to lose one of your friends here.”

Every limb in his body freezes, fingers twitching in anticipation. His pale eyes slowly turn to look at Hazel. The man has Diego in a tight headlock, staring at Five with grim anticipation.

“Don’t listen to him.” Diego slurs, eyes dazed.

He honest to god wonders if Diego actually gave himself a concussion when he tried that idiotic head butt.

“Let him go.” Five warns.

“Okay. You first. Let her go.” Hazel mutters. “Don’t test me, you know I can snap his neck in a second. We’re both well aware of what we’re capable of.”

“Oddly sentimental, bargaining for your coworker’s life.” He bites out with a rasp. “Don’t think that’s by the book.”

“I don’t think you should talk to me about sentimental.” The man quips out with a simple smile, tightening his grip on Diego. “Besides I’ll get docked pay if I come back alone. You know how it is.”

Five grins tightly. “I hear donut shops are particularly nice around this time of the year.”

“Elaborate.”

“Let’s just say I might know your best interests at heart more than you do. You don’t seem to enjoy your work how you used to, Hazel.”

“They’ve cut so many benefits, I don’t even know what I do have at this point.” Hazel concedes lightly.

It’d be so easy to just snap Cha-Cha’s neck and be done with it. This is why things go smoother alone. There are no liabilities to worry about. There are no distractions. There are no siblings that give him a heart attack at the possibility of them being harmed.

“Look, can we do a tactical truce and call it a night?” Hazel asks wearily. “Equivalent exchange, Number Five. Let’s be civil here. Looks like we are at a…sentimental stalemate let’s say, so why don’t we just admit it for what it is, and walk away. Pick things up another day and all that.”

As infuriating as it is, he actually can’t see another way for this to work to keep Diego alive. Even with Klaus manning the shotgun, there’s no guarantee his brother will even shoot, or not hit one of them in the process with the shotgun spread. His powers are too sluggish to properly warp in on an attack when Hazel knows it’s coming. Diego is clearly unable to break the man’s choke hold when he’s being choked out himself. Five can’t blame him, the guy is a wall.

Eventually, he nods in consent, taking his hands off of Cha-Cha’s face. Reginald was right, his siblings are his greatest chink in the armor. He’d do anything and everything to make sure they get the chance to live in this world he’s so desperately trying to save.

His siblings are all he has, after all.

Hazel nods in acceptance as well, loosening his grip from Diego. His brother stumbles clumsily, disoriented either from a concussion or the lack of air in his lungs. Five climbs slowly to his own feet, stepping away from the injured assassin on the floor. She’s unconscious. Five can’t tell if she’ll die and bleed out, or if she can be saved. He doesn’t particularly care either way.

Klaus runs over to help Diego, clutching the gun to his chest as he goes. Five wants to curse his brother out for his stupidity and carelessness, but there’s no point. Klaus is a liability, so it shouldn’t be expected that he knows how to handle a gun in the first place.

His siblings are all he has, after all. He needs to keep them safe.

Five and Hazel’s eyes meet as they cross by each other, and he’s suddenly stricken with the epiphany that the man had never planned to allow him to live. Good thing then that he had planned the exact same intent. He whirls around as soon as they break eye contact, whipping Diego’s blade out from the inner wrist cuff.

A harsh metallic clang rings out as Hazel meets his blade with his own, having yanked it out of his own shoulder.

“Ah dammit. Of course, you knew better.” Hazel muses.

Of course he does, he’s a killer too.

“Five!” Ben shouts in alarm.

Five knows immediately that he cannot win this battle with physicality along. Hazel trumps him in everything, even stamina. His small frame makes it easy for the other man to be able to overpower him in sheer strength alone, but he has mobility. More importantly, he possesses a will so strong that it got him through an entire lifetime of hell just on one thought alone. As if he’d go down now. 

His siblings are all he has, after all. He needs to keep them safe. Even if that means doing the hard work for them.

Hazel lunges, immediately trying to crowd into his space in an attempt to overpower him. Five ducks under the slashing blade, stabbing his own into the man’s thigh. The man curses harshly into the air. A harsh hand grips his hair tightly, yanking his head upwards. The shine of a blade dances in his eyes.

In moments it will be embedded in his skull.

“SHOOT THE GUN!”

“Lower the fucking gun-you’ll hit Five in the crossfire!” Diego shouts.

Five catches the blade with his bare hand as it plunges towards his face, an agonized shout being wrenched out of his lips as he grips the blade tighter. It cuts into his skin like paper, blood pooling around his hand and falling in thick droplets. Hazel tries to pull the blade back to go for another stab, but Five refuses to give the man any more power. He clutches the piercing metal stubbornly, even as it digs further into his palm, white streaks of agony running up his arm and down his entire body. He wrenches his own blade out of the man’s thigh, leaning backwards as Hazel bears his weight onto him.

A single desperate slash across the man’s neck is all it takes for this whole thing to be over. Five watches in horrified fascination as the red slash across the man’s throat suddenly begins gushing blood like a waterfall. Hazel recoils backward, his hands automatically going to try and stifle the bleeding on his throat.

He could really use five margaritas to make him forget tonight.

His feet automatically stumble backwards as he’s release. Both blades drop with a clatter on the sidewalk, blood staining the dark pavement. Five hunches over himself, shivering as nausea and pain wrack his body. His stomach protests his extra warps, insides cramping and curling in on themselves as if to try and shield themselves from the pain.

“Five! For god’s sake, do something Klaus!”

He throws up on the pavement, the familiar miserable feeling sending him back to his childhood. He certainly didn’t miss this. There’s really nothing to throw up, but the dry heaving and the stomach rolling does the job well enough to make him feel like a dead man walking.

“Holy shit- “Klaus breathes, gun clattering to the ground.

Idiot, dropping the gun after not using it. He needs to lecture Klaus about gun safety later, or at least lecture the man about common sense. 

“Hey-hey-“ Diego’s soft but frantic voice rings in his ears, gloved hands pulling him over into the man’s space. “Look at me-Five.” The man urges softly, gripping his jaw to turn his face to the man’s gaze.

Five blinks blearily. “Think the adrenaline finally wore off.” He slurs in disorientation. “You’re all so stupid I think I had five bursts of it in one fight.”

Diego looks worse for wear. There’s a stream of blood running down from his forehead and down to his chin, cheeks bruised and swollen from his brawl. The man has multiple cuts in his shirt and likely his arms and hands.

“Is this your blood?” Diego demands, crouching down. “Christ, your hand.”

Five lazily waves his brother’s concern away, an awkward splattering of blood falling to the pavement as he moves his hand about. He tries to shake his head, vision warping in and out of focus.

“The journal, we really need to-”

“What the hell Five!” Klaus shouts, clutching at his hair tightly in anxiety. “I don’t think that’s fucking what we need to focus on right now!”

“Like you can talk!” Ben snaps at Klaus with a rare anger that Five isn’t quite certain he’s ever heard before. “You just stood there while they both fought for their lives! And then you had the chance to take the shot and you didn’t while Five- “

“Well excuse me for being a little stressed out and not knowing what the hell to do in the situation!” Klaus shouts back to the empty air, voice strained with stress.

“Protect your family is what!!”

“Hey, eyes on me.” Diego orders, tapping on his cheek lightly and bringing his attention back to his brother’s worried dark eyes. “What else? Your hand, and what else?” the man demands lightly, running a hand over his shoulders lightly to check for injuries.

Oh right.

He had gotten shot too.

“An inconvenience.” He mutters faintly, as peels back his jacket to reveal a bloody stain seeping through his sweater vest.

“Oh sh-shit.” Diego breathes.

He supposes he was so distracted that he forgot. The searing agony in his hand helps to balance it out in some sort of ironic karma. Did Hazel die? Is Cha-Cha dead too? There are things that he really needs to help finish up before he passes out. It’d just be a big hassle to waste time like this.

At least Diego and Klaus are alive.

“It’s irrelevant, we need-” he starts dully, trailing off in exhaustion.

He really had nothing left to give at this point. Why did his siblings always have to complicate things? The journal, he had just wanted the damn journal. He sways on his feet, his sibling’s voices blending into a muffled echo. Five feels Diego grab him before his knees buckle, his vision finally going blissfully dark.

“...Five?"

He doesn't know why Ben seems shocked. He's been able to talk to him this whole time.

"No, no. Stay here Five!"

"Please.”

Chapter Text

There’s something that flickers in the darkness. He tries to reach out to it, but he’s unable to move. Everything feels heavy. Echoes of voices ring through his ears, muffled in his drifting lost state.

“Get off my fucking back why don’t you!”

“Don’t act like you’re somehow blameless in this Klaus! You might as well have shot him yourself!”

“Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with you Ben? How could you even say-”

“How dare you. How DARE you not take the shot when he was just laying there and he needed you- “

“Because I-I DON’T KNOW WHY! I don’t know okay!? I panicked and-look I-I didn’t sign up for this okay?"

A frantic giggle. It sounds too sharp to be genuine.

"This whole universe mumbo jumbo and assassins and-”

“You did! You did sign up for it! You signed up for it as soon as you said you believed him and then when he needed you most you weren’t THERE!”

“I didn’t-Fuck! Why are you acting like this? What the actual hell Ben? God! It’s not like I wanted this to happen!”

“I’m acting like this because I’m so angry I can barely think straight, that’s why! Five is-he’s-Five is everything Klaus! Five is our family! How could you even hesitate when you saw him like that!?”

Strained laughter.

“Because I’m the royal fuckup! God isn’t that what they all say? Maybe now you get to understand it too! And-and you know what? I stuck out my neck for him plenty already, so maybe I should just leave and you can just stay with him because clearly you don’t want me anymore!”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you even think about leaving you selfish-"

" …I won’t follow you this time Klaus. “

A tense silence.

“You really won’t huh?”

“I’m staying with him.”

A slam. Something metal.

“Klaus! What the hell are you shouting at, huh? You’re going to wake him. If you want to stay in the room and watch him then shut the hell up. I leave for two minutes and I can hear you all the way down the hallway, Christ.”

“Sorry brother o mine! I’ll zip the lip.”

Another slam.

“Five, try and stay with us okay? Diego’s patching you up well. You’re lucky the bullet went clean through and only nicked your side. It should be okay…it should be just fine. So you just rest okay? Rest as long as you need and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

It’s quiet.

“I didn’t…look-I-I didn’t mean to fuck up so bad Benny. I mean come on, you know that don’t you?”

“Klaus just-let’s just leave it for now. I can’t think straight.”

He drifts.

“I’m still mad at him Five. I can’t help it. I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry in my life, living or dead. I know a lot of it is because of me. Of how I am. I’m not really tangibly here. Hah, I can’t physically touch you, help you, protect you. But I just-I want to be able to make my own decisions again. I would have taken the shot.”

“I would have taken the shot.”

He wants to tell Ben it’s okay. But his world is dark and he can’t manage to figure out where he is.

He drifts.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, you know that kiddo, yeah? You know your big bro Klaus would-would help right? You still believe in me, don’t you?”

“You do…right?”

He does. Of course he does.

He drifts.

“Hey look man, when you wake up you have a lot of explaining to do.”

There’s the softest pressure on his hand.

“You really just grabbed that blade with your bare hand. Talk about balls.” A small huff. “Hey by the way I uh-I got the journal, okay? So just relax, it’s like I can hear the gears turning in your head even when you’re unconscious.”

Somehow, a weight seems to be lifted from him knowing his brother has the book.

He drifts.

“You know, mom isn’t feeling very well. I just uh, I’m wondering if maybe you could take a look at her later when you’re awake or something. You’re smart, so, maybe you could do that. She’s just-she’s not d-doing great is all.”

An angry sniff.

"You can maybe do that for her, right?"

He’s not exactly an engineer, but he’d still take a look at Grace for Diego’s sake. He’d say he's more than a quick learner.

He drifts.

“I miss you so much Five. Sometimes it feels like the breath is being stolen from my body because I miss you so much and you’re so close, but so far away from me. But then I remember I can’t breathe in the first place because I’m…I’m just- “

“I’m dead.”

“Please don’t follow me here though. I need to see you okay and alive, so you better open your eyes soon. We can finally talk so you can’t leave now. You can’t, alright?”

“Maybe my wish will change tonight.”

Five doesn’t want Ben to wish something different. He’ll return to him soon. He hopes.

He drifts.

“Okaaay so you like sweet pea better than kiddo? Or should I continue with short stack and kiddo? How do you feel about pumpkin? Too pet namey?”

“Oh! Oh! Okay I got it. Sunshine!”

A light-hearted laugh.

“Bingo. That one’s the winner. It captures your essence perfectly!”

Idiot. His idiot though.

He drifts.

“I heard Klaus trying to list off nicknames. I hope you sock him in the face as soon as you hear ‘em because if I have to deal with this shit, you do too. Ain’t that right, sweet pea?” Diego jeers teasingly.

There’s a metallic dragging sound. Diego might be sharpening his knife.

“I think sweet pea is nice but maybe not smart. Klaus doesn’t need to know it stands for appreciation and departure though. Not that you’d allow it anyways. Hey, you can think of a name for me though if you want.  Nothing nautical themed though please.”

“Yeah…You’re going to kill all of us when you wake up but it’s a price I’m willing to make. Mainly because I’m already dead so I just get to watch.”

He drifts.

“You woke up a bit today. Do you remember? You were really out of it, and you basically went right back to sleep but, it was nice seeing your eyes. Looks like your injuries are healing okay, no sign of infection. Diego thinks you’re sleeping so long because of shock but I think we both know better. It’s because you haven’t properly rested in how long? I can’t even guess, you never were good at allowing yourself to relax.”

“Je-esus you could write a novel with the amount of cheese you say to him on a daily basis Benny boy.”

“Shut up. Nothing wrong with keeping him company. I promised I’d be here when he wakes up so I’m going to be.”

A sigh.

“Yeeeah I know. I know.” Klaus relents. “Hey on the upside, I haven’t had any drugs in who knows how long!”

“Klaus it’s been two days.”

“Well hey! That’s two more days that I wouldn’t have passed before!”

“Do you see why I had to forgive him? Clearly he can’t function without a literal voice in his head holding his hand.”

“Hey!”

Idiots. He loves them.

He drifts.

“You’re running a bit of a fever kid. It’s fine, but we have to watch it. I don’t know if you can hear me but…but just in case that’s why I’m talking to you. Mom used to do that for me when I was sick so.”

“Look, I told Vanya what happened. She was worried sick about you and I guess she had been coming to the mansion a lot in the hopes to find you. I’m not saying she’s invited here, but I’m just saying, she clearly…cares.”

Vanya. He misses Vanya.

"Damn you really do look kinda cute when you're sleeping, Klaus got me on that nickname bullshit already I can't believe this."

He drifts.

There’s a sound of snoring.

“We’re on our third day now. You still have a fever. I wish you’d wake up so you can boss us around. You know I’m not going to let you have coffee, right? Not right away.”

“I think I just saw you furrow your brow at me. Tough luck.”

He drifts.

It’s hot.

He hates the heat.

There’s a low rumbling in his ears, it’s new. He’s been drifting in a state of darkness for a while, he doesn’t know how long. The heat seems to be getting worse and the rumbling increases in volume inside of his ears. His breathing feels strained. There’s smoke in his lungs.

Five opens his eyes to find the apocalypse has come to greet him like an old friend.

No.

He stands there in blank shock as the smoke enters his lungs, ash and cinder falling from the sky. Five stares up in front of him, the sky clouded with smog and dust. How? How can this be? Hadn’t he been doing alright? He had killed Leonard. He had protected his siblings. He tried.

He had tried!

“No…no no no.” he mumbles to himself, a growing panic welling up inside of his chest.

There’s nothing. There’s nothing here. It’s all just rubble, concrete, and broken parts of things he will never be able to put back together again. He stumbles over his own feet, tripping and landing onto his knees. His chest heaves, breathes coming out labored in a genuine fear he can’t push down anymore. Wide eyes stare down at the ground unseeing, rubble and rocks scanning for miles with nothing in between besides dead bodies and bones.

He can’t be back here.

Please.

He can’t be alone again in the nothingness of the world.

Five screams.

“Woah woah woah-why’s-what’s happening! What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know-I think it’s the fever. Five? Five!”

Claws. They burn at his skin where they touch. He fights them off, refusing to be taken back to the darkness. He doesn’t want to burn here. He doesn’t want to die here. Nothingness it’s all just nothingness and he’s going to be swallowed whole if he doesn’t fight. He always fights. He has to. He’s been fighting for years and years. His entire life has just been one big fight and he doesn’t know how to stop even if he wanted to.

He’s so tired of fighting.

“Five? Five! Open your eyes! It’s okay Five!” Ben cries to him, desperation lining his tone.

A loud slam echoes in his ears.

“What’s happening! Is that him screaming!?”

“I-he just started-I don’t know! Uh-uhhh help please! I tried to keep him from freaking out and ripping his stitches but he’s-he’s-just shit, help me Diego!”

“Five open your eyes.”

Open his eyes? He’s already awake. The smoke is suffocating him, the claws are trying to drag him down, and the ash falls from the sky like rain. This familiar void has been his home for most of his life. There’s nothing to see. But he tries to fight anyways. Five doesn’t even know what he’s struggling against, but he still fights. His side is burning hot pain throughout his body throbbing along with his hand, but he flails against the darkness that’s trying to grip him in an iron hold. The grey sky is turning red above him as he struggles.

“He’s burning up! Klaus get ice buc-shit!” Diego curses as he gives a harsh jerk to escape, the man’s voice ringing in his head faintly.

“Get off of me!” he screams breathlessly.

Suddenly the dark limbs entrapping him take form. The bloodied ash-dusted corpse of his brother stares him down while he tries to pin Five against the destroyed earth. Diego stares with glassy dead eyes as the man pushes on his shoulders to grind him into the ground. There’s blood rolling down Diego's forehead and it drips off of his face sluggishly. One of the crimson drops of blood splashes onto his cheek as he stares up at his brother’s corpse in shock.

The ash falls harder.

He’s going to die here.

“No no no NO!” he screams in raw horror, kicking his legs as much as he can to escape the grip of the dead.

“Stop! Stop Five-fuck!” Diego shouts at him, but the corpse pinning him down hasn’t moved his mouth. “Sh-Sh-Shit wake up Five it’s okay!”

“Holy shit-I’ve never heard him scream-“Klaus says breathlessly in horrified worry, voice rapidly growing closer.

“J-Just giv-give me the-the-FUCK!” Diego swears in frustration, emotions bubbling over.

There’s a rustling. An unbidden whimper tumbles out of his lips in confused alarm when something cold touches the back of his neck, tensing up.

“Shh, it’s just a cold washcloth.” Diego soothes.

Five stares up at the corpse pinning him down. The corpse of his brother loosens his grip before leaning back. He watches in stunned silence as the dead body begins to disintegrate into ash, intermingling with the ash already falling from the sky. Then the monster, the corpse, his brother is gone.

He’s all alone again.

Alone alone alone.

Is this any better?

The cold transfers up to his forehead, making him shiver. Five sits up, pulling his knees to his chest, another shiver wracking his body. A drop of something cold hits the top of his head. Then another. And then the ash isn’t ash at all, but rain. Five looks up in surprise, legs going flat as he looks up at the rain that slowly pelts his face. The smoke slowly disappears and his lungs take in a breath of air that's clean. Fires slowly die, the ground below him turns damp from the rain and soil appears between his fingers where before it was simply rubble and concrete. Five blinks away the rainwater from his eyes as a breeze slowly caresses his cheeks as it gently blows by. His eyes fall shut softly and he can smell petrichor and damp earth replacing the smell of smoke and decay.

It’s cold.

But it’s never cold in the apocalypse.

But it is. It's cold, and he can breathe.

“C’mon sweetheart, open your eyes. Please.”

Five opens his eyes.

The room is dimly lit, no natural light coming through the windows. It’s night then. As he manages to open his eyes further, he’s met with the dark eyes of Diego hovering over him. His brother’s eyes are glimmering with emotion, the beginning of unshed tears refusing to spill. Nothing like the dead milky eyes from before. Five blinks sluggishly, turning his head slightly to find Klaus also staring at him. The man in question has clearly already been crying, makeup more smudged than usual as Klaus holds a painted nail in his mouth, nibbling on it in stress. Diego is sitting on the bed and Klaus is pulled up right beside him in a chair.

They’re hovering extremely close.

He should hate that, but for some reason the only thing he can feel is an overwhelming relief.

“Hi Five…there you are.” Ben breathes softly in greeting near his head. “God, there you are.”

There’s the faintest sensation of something cold on his head, touching strands of his sweat-soaked hair.

“Hey.” Diego croaks to him softly, his eyes lighting up in broken relief as Five turns his gaze on him. “H-Hey. You’re awake.” He repeats, leaning back a bit from Five’s space and withdrawing a washcloth he had been wiping Five’s forehead with.

He sluggishly takes in that he’s on a bed. The covers are scattered every which way, a result of his thrashing. His side and hand ache terribly from his sudden harsh movements, but Five can feel the familiar tightness of stitches on his palm so at the very least he hadn’t reopened them. His skin feels hot and clammy at the same time and it causes him to shiver. But he's alive. He's alive and he's not there.

He's not there.

“God. Holy shit. Well this was great, but also let’s never do this again.” Klaus whispers with a laugh, running a shaky hand down his face.

Five can feel tear tracks drying on his own face and wonders how badly he must have reacted in his fevered dream for his brothers to be acting so shaken. It puts him in a bad position, being vulnerable like this and unable to hide it away. While it should be frightening, Five can only feel relief that the worst thing he's done is had a nightmare in comparison to what his fevered mind conjured up. Diego puts a bare hand to his forehead and it feels blessedly cooler than his skin so much that he unconsciously tilts up into it.

“It’s alright. We're getting your fever under control. It's going to be alright.” Diego mutters gently, giving a thick swallow.

Five blinks and feels the warmth of several tears roll down his cheeks. Klaus coos sadly, leaning forward as Diego slips off the bed to fiddle around with what sounds like an ice bucket. Five stares at Klaus tiredly as the man wipes the tears away from his cheeks with soft jittery fingers.

“God don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay?” his brother whispers with a broken smile.

 “Which-" he starts, his voice aching in pain from his screaming. "Which one of you idiots called me sweetheart.” He rasps weakly.

Klaus freezes for a solid second, his face going slack before he suddenly bursts into such a violent relieved laughter that he almost falls off his chair. Diego hides a wide smile by looking down at the floor but his shaking shoulders give him away. Ben’s laughter echoes in his ears soothingly like a cold touch of water.

“There’s our boy.”

He’s not alone.

He eventually drifts back into sleep with Klaus stroking his wrist, Diego’s light snoring echoing throughout the room, and Ben quietly wishing on a star.

Chapter Text

He’s almost there.

Just a couple more steps. Five sucks in a deep breath, ignoring the hot flare of pain it sends down his side. He grips the rail delicately, hissing through his teeth lightly as he remembers that his hand is injured. Forgetting the railing, he uses his other hand to help his balance and brace against the wall. Five drags his feet up one step at a time, the ground slightly cool under his socked feet. The door is right in front of him.

So close.

“Five I’m telling you it’s not going to work.”

“Be quiet.” Five mutters in agitation.

“Just come back and rest.”

His fingers push against the door firmly, moving it open as he reaches the top.

Finally.

Freedom.

As soon as the door opens, it reveals Diego sitting in a metal foldable chair right across from him. Reginald’s journal is on his lap but Diego is staring straight at him with amused exasperation, a cocky smile drawing up to one side of his face.

“Good morning sunshine.” The man drawls in amusement.

Five gapes in disbelief, watching Diego get up from the chair and move towards him.

“No!” He hisses in warning.

Diego isn’t cowed. Five kicks childishly as the man picks him up by the armpits, easily carrying him back into the room and down the steps. He knows the man won’t pick him up any other way at the risk hurting his side, but that doesn’t make it any more humiliating to be picked up like a child and easily hauled around. Klaus is sprawled half on and half off of the bed, sleeping the early morning away.

“What did I tell you?” Ben sighs as Diego sets him gingerly down at the edge of the bed.

“Stop trying to break out of here Five. You’re not a prisoner, but you’re stupid if you think I’m just going to let you free roam and try to leave by yourself with your injuries.” Diego orders sternly.

“I have too many things to do and you won’t keep me locked up Diego.” Five grits back, his voice low in consideration of his other sleeping brother.

Diego merely raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed and undeterred. “Didn’t think I would need to since you have common sense but maybe I will, because this is the third time you’ve tried to leave when we weren’t paying attention.”

Five glares heavily at the man before looking down in frustration. He picks at the cuffs of the over sized black hoodie his brother had given him, the garment so big on his younger frame that it could swallow him whole. It’s comfortable and well worn, but it makes him feel small.

“I can function just fine, so why are you insistent on- “

A hand touches one of his own. Five looks up to see Diego watching him with a frustrated expression, a frown tugging at his lips.

“We just want to protect you, Five.” He murmurs gently, making Five’s ears burn at the genuine care in his brother’s tone.

“I don’t need- “

“Even- “Diego interrupts calmly. “If that’s from yourself, apparently. Why don’t you just slow down. Rest. You really need to take it easy for a bit, alright?”

He doesn’t want to relax. He’s lost a lot of time and he needs to check up on everything while he’s been gone. He hasn’t even had a chance to speak to Vanya in his haste to get the job done, and Five can’t help but wonder if this mistake will cost him. The major goals have been accomplished from what he can figure, but who knows what else he might need to do? He really needs to see Vanya. What if something went wrong? What if somehow-

“Five.” Diego calls to him quietly, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Five looks up with an obstinate frown, not knowing what to say. Diego has wandered over to the bedside counter, leveling him with an unimpressed gaze as he picks up a plate full of uneaten eggs.

“You need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care. Look, now they’re cold.” Diego scolds like a disappointed parent, turning away to go to the counter and reheat them in the microwave.

Five rolls his eyes. “Big deal.”

“Look, if you really wanna leave then let me drive you. You wanna go to the house?” the man asks knowingly. “Talk to Vanya if she’s there?”

“Yes…and change into a proper uniform.” He mutters.

His brother snorts in amusement, shaking his head. “Of course you’d rather be that stiff ass uniform than something casual. Of course you would.”

“How much of that journal did you read?” Five asks, eying the vivid red book stuffed casually in between Diego’s holster.

The man turns, plucking it out and tossing it onto the nearest counter. Five figures Diego might not have read anything at all from the way the man’s acting. He would have expected a far more temperamental sibling had his brother read Reginald’s personal thoughts and notes about the "unconfident" and "easily subdued" Number Two.

“Not much. Been a bit occupied trying to keep a stupid sibling from getting himself killed.”

“I’ll be taking that back. Don’t bother reading more.” Five commands.

“And why shouldn’t I read it?” his brother asks casually, the sound of chopping filling the room. “You made it pretty clear how important it was. I had to do some things I’m not proud of to get that back for you.”

He hesitates.

Anything he could say might only spark Diego to want to read it more, especially if he mentions there’s sections specifically on Diego himself. In a way, Five thinks all the siblings would read that damn journal if they had a chance. Whether if it’s for a curiosity to see their father’s most inner thoughts about all of them, or a strange hidden desire to want to be accepted. Even now, he can't help but want to read it himself for more than justifiable reasons. Nothing good comes out of reading that book though. Not for them. He doesn’t want any of them to be taken back to that time.

They are more than just numbers in a ledger, and Five will be damned if he lets that book out of his sight again.

That comes from an emotional place though, which confuses him as much as it frustrates him. His protective instincts don't make for a very good reason as to why Diego shouldn't read the book.

“I…” he trails off awkwardly, earning a bewildered stare from Diego at his lapse into uncharacteristic silence. “Because, you’re not smart enough to understand it.” He tries an insult, but it comes out half-hearted and unconvincing.

“Why don’t you really want him to read it though? Will you tell me later?” Ben asks.

Diego turns fully away from the counter now, leveling him with a conflicted stare. He watches with wary eyes as the man moves over to him, crouching down to get onto his level. Diego’s stare feels too knowing and it makes him feel foolish. Five bats away the hand that moves towards his forehead, earning a roll of the eyes from his sibling.

“Just wanted to check your fever again because that was some grade A bullshitting if I ever heard it. It’s like you didn’t even try.”

He clenches his jaw, looking down at his bandaged hand and the giant sweater cuffs that go to the tips of his fingers. He fidgets with the cuffs again, feeling entirely too out of his element. Diego taps on the side of his cheek, dark eyes looking at him with expectant patience.

“Five. You’re gunna relax right now, okay?  Then you’re going to eat your breakfast, and then if you don’t try any funny business we can go to the mansion. That all sounds pretty damn reasonable doesn’t it?”

“Very very reasonable.”

“Yeaaaah super reasonable.” Comes the muffled voice of Klaus, face still mushed into the floor from where the man is half sprawled on the bed and half on the ground.

“Wow, good morning Klaus, thanks so much for watching after our injured brother this morning.” Diego greets the other brother sarcastically. “Remember when I asked you to do that while I went to grab groceries?”

Klaus lifts his head from the floor with a groan. The man sleepily glances at Diego, his face full of smudged makeup before he lays it back down carelessly.

“Cut me a break huh? I’m going through withdrawal.” The man whines, allowing the rest of his body to slide off the bed and onto the floor into a floppy pile of limbs.

“That’s our brother. Do you ever have to remind yourself? Because I do. Like, right there, that’s our brother. That’s who we have to claim as our family.” Ben deadpans as Five watches Klaus lay in a boneless heap.

“Pick yourself up Klaus.” Five scoffs. “If you want the bed, you might as well use it.”

“Sure, why not, clearly Five wasn’t using it!” Diego calls in annoyance, popping open the microwave door.

Upon hearing his voice Klaus shoots from his flop, whirling around to face him with an excited grin. Five watches as the man’s expression softens after taking in his state, Klaus giving an eager coo of endearment. Five blandly scowls as the man approaches, sighing in resignation as arms are wrapped around him gently.

“Oh…look at you.” the man breathes.  “What a soft boy wearing his big bro’s clothes. You are so cute~!” Klaus titters happily.

“Shut up.” Five mutters, but makes no move to untangle himself from the hug.

“My little boy!” Klaus coos.

Nevermind, he should know better than to even humor him. Five puts his hand on the man’s face and pushes him away with a roll of his eyes. Klaus goes along with the rejection in happy acceptance, getting up from the floor and dusting off his skinny jeans.

“Can we get waffles?” Klaus asks Diego, earning a laugh from Ben.

“No.”

“Oh, come on! You didn’t even think about it.” Klaus whines, stretching his arms up with a yawn. “Tummy’s getting a little rumbly. Family breakfast outing!”

“No.” Diego repeats with a stern glare. “I already made eggs for Five and he’s going to damn well eat them.” He says adamantly, pulling out the plate of eggs from the microwave.

Klaus squints down at the plate of scrambled eggs with disdain, turning to give Five big-eyed pleading look. Five squints at Klaus, then back to Diego who is finishing chopping up an apple for him. So, his options are either stay holed up here and go stir crazy, or at least get a bit of fresh air and some proper sugar at the breakfast diner. He gives Klaus a determined stare, nodding in agreement. The mans' hazel eyes gleam with unholy excitement knowing that Five is on his side to go out for breakfast.

 “I’m not eating that.” Five declares stubbornly.

Diego whirls around, nostrils flaring in a telltale sign of frustration. “You are eating your breakfast otherwise you’re going to pass out and then you’ll be here even longer. Clearly you don’t want that, and I don’t either, so why don’t you just for once in your life do as you’re told?”

Klaus giggles breezily in the background, chewing on a nail in anticipation.

“I want to go out. I’ll eat if we do.” He demands with a cross of his arms. "A compromise."

“I’m not going to allow you to eat donuts and not have any real substance. Your body needs to heal, and part of that is to fuel it right!” Diego exclaims adamantly, shoving the plates of eggs out in presentation to him.

“Oh guys, don’t do it.” Ben sighs. “Maybe he was right, you two together is too dangerous.”

Five gives Klaus the side eye and that’s all it takes send the signal.

“Oooo those don’t look half bad! Mind if I uh- “Klaus starts, immediately plunging both of his bare hands into the plate of eggs.

Diego shouts in anger, wrenching back the plate as Klaus grabs a fistful of scrambled eggs in each hand and smashes them into his mouth. Diego watches in disbelief at the audacity of their junkie brother, the sloppy man chewing loudly on the reheated food. Eventually Diego’s had enough and the man whirls around, throwing the plate into the sink harshly.

“Okay you know what? You want to go so badly? Then go!” he shouts angrily. “I have spent too much time here trying to keep you in one piece!” the man rants, turning around and glaring at the other two brothers.

“Oh now you’ve done it.”

Five watches with apathetic eyes as Diego stalks around the kitchen area, throwing Klaus a glare who is still idly munching on a fistful of eggs.

“Oh come onnn Diego!” Klaus complains with his mouth full. “Five and I just want to go out to eat together with you! We wanna do a family outing!”

“Well you can get the hell out of my room is what you can do!” Diego snaps, swiping at an apple piece he had cut up and angrily munching on it so his efforts aren’t in vain.

Five simply gets off of the bed slowly, slipping onto his feet. He idly brushes off the old hoodie, plucking at a loose strand before he starts making his way to the exit. He stops to slip his feet sloppily into his shoes, not bother to bend down and put them on properly for now. The graze on his side makes bending more difficult than he wants to admit.

“What are you doing?” Klaus calls to him with a frown.

He doesn’t say anything, nudging his remaining foot stubbornly in the black dress shoe with force. Five starts to the head up the stairs, using his good hand to brace against the wall as he does so.

“Hey! Don’t even think about it.” Diego calls in a warning.

Obviously, he doesn’t listen.

His fingers touch the door before he hears a scramble of footsteps. He’s hauled up by the armpits again and promptly turned around. Diego carries him back down the stairs and right back over to be placed back onto the edge of the bed.

“What the hell Five?” Diego asks in frustration.

“Whatever do you mean? You just said I was more than welcome to leave.” Five snarks at the man apathetically.

“Wh-I know what I said!” the man exclaims angrily back, face turning lightly red in angry embarrassment at immediately contradicting his words with his actions.

Five merely raises an eyebrow.

Diego runs a hand down his face in frustration.

“Okay you know what? Fine. Deal. We go out for breakfast and then after that, you shut your mouth and you do as I say, got it? Can we do that?”

Five nods. “We can do that.”

Klaus cheers, throwing his hands up and showering the floor with leftover egg bits. “Family breakfast outing! I call back seat!” he proclaims loudly, rushing up the stairs and out of the room in an eager beeline for Diego’s car.

Ben grumbles are heard rapidly fading as his brother follows Klaus out. Ever responsible Ben. Five takes the time to properly put on his shoes, wincing lightly as he bends forward to tie up the laces. It could be much worse, he certainly can't complain.

“Diego.” Five mutters, swiveling his eyes up.

“What, you little prick?” Diego grouses, biting the inside of his cheek as he grabs his car keys.

“I’d like Vanya to join us.” He says honestly as he straightens up.

Diego throws his hands up in the air, one of them going to rub angrily at his forehead before he drags it down his face again.

“Sure. Fine. Whatever.” He mutters in frustrated resignation. “We’ll stop by and see if she’s at the house. She said she’ll usually be around early mornings before her lessons or something start in the afternoon, alright?”

Five tilts his head, watching his brother carefully as the man tidies up the kitchen. Diego seems tired, and more than a bit downtrodden. He’s well aware most of that is because of him. It isn’t as if Klaus had the experience to stitch him up or do anything more than watch over him when he was out. Diego had been the one doing all the heavy lifting and bedside work. Patching him up, helping bring down his fever, making sure there isn’t any infection. The man opened up his home and gave up his bed for him for several days without complaint or a thanks given.

Five gets up from the bed, moving over to his exasperated sibling without a sound. Diego’s turning off the light under the sink as he approaches, and the man turns to look at him with an expectant raise of a dark eyebrow.

“What, Five?”

Five reaches his arms out, awkwardly hesitating before he follows through and wraps them around Diego in a cautious and tentative hug. He allows his head to turn, resting his cheek against his brother’s chest to hear the living heartbeat pulse lightly in his ears. Diego freezes in his embrace, clearly not expecting such an out of character gesture from him. Five hugs a bit tighter, trying to convey his gratitude and apology in the action.

“Thank you.” He mutters softly.

His brother is silent, but there’s a small rustle before Five can feel Diego crouch down and reciprocate the hug more fully. A hand comes up to rest at the back of his head, pressing him closer to the crook of the man’s neck. It's warm, but not stifling. It feels comforting. He feels strangely safe in his brother's embrace.

“You make it really hard to stay pissed at you.” Diego muses.

“I’m...serious.” Five mutters awkwardly. “Thank you, for everything.” He repeats, the words feeling strange on his tongue.

He’s not used to being heartfelt in such a way. It’s not bad, it’s just different he supposes. This sort of opening up he's been doing every so often is strange, and he knows he struggles with it. Being vulnerable in this way is something he doesn't really remember, even from his childhood and it's a learning experience that's been largely hit or miss so far. If anyone deserves his gratitude right now though, it’s Diego. Five feels his brother shake his head lightly, rustling some of his own hair in the process.

“Just what family does.” Diego mutters nonchalantly, as if it's an obvious answer.

Five contemplates that statement for moment, feeling a strange pang of melancholy flood his heart.

“…Not all family.” Five murmurs quietly.

Diego hugs him a little tighter.

Five doesn’t mind too terribly much.

Chapter Text

The sky is grey when the three finally manage to pack into Diego’s car. Raindrops pelt the windshield harshly as Five stares out the window in the passenger seat, watching the buildings go by. Diego is driving with a sour face as he activates the windshield wipers and Klaus is laying in the back seat humming a tuneless melody to himself.

Five runs his finger long the spine of Reginald’s journal he had shoved into the oversized hoodie pocket. It’s difficult to fight the urge to just open it now and read it in the car, but the last thing he needs is prying eyes from any of his siblings. He’d be patient, then read it by himself.

“Been raining for a couple days. Fuckin’ miserable.” Diego mutters in dull exasperation

Five doesn’t mind the rain, not in the slightest.

Vanya is already waiting outside when the car pulls up onto her apartment street. Five doesn’t waste time and pushes open the car door to get out and greet her. He’s well aware it’s rude to make Diego and Klaus wait, but he wants to personally say hello to his sister before they all cram into the car. It’s been too long and he had been too much of a coward to look her in the eye the first day due to his emotional spiral.

He spies Vanya stiffen as he fully steps out of the car. She’s in a plain black jacket with a white and black striped scarf, simple jeans. Even now, she dresses as if she’s trying to be invisible, likely so used to being that way that she doesn’t know how to do anything else. Her mousey brown hair is pulled into a loose bun with messy strands framing her face. Five finally meets her tired brown eyes that immediately spark with warmth upon meeting his. Vanya’s walk towards him slowly grows in urgency until she’s jogging over. He can’t help but feel the same sense of urgency as he takes a couple steps in her direction.

“Oh Five!” Vanya breathes out his name in airy relief. “I was so worried. I thought-I’m-I’m just so glad you’re okay. “she stumbles over her words, reaching out to him.

Her hands hesitate, even in her desperation not wanting to encroach in his space. She’s always been considerate like that. His lips tilt up in a lopsided ghost of a smile of acceptance, pale eyes softening as he looks at his sister’s concerned face. He doesn’t have any trouble shuffling closer into her arms, allowing her to wrap him in a relieved embrace. The hug is gentle and very aware of his injuries, the woman not wanting to cause him the slightest bit of harm.

“Hello Vanya.” He mumbles softly, returning the hug tentatively.

The raindrops slowly fade, leaving just a gloomy overcast sky in its place.

“Hi.” Vanya laughs softly, pulling away to look at him with a hesitant smile and tired eyes. “Gosh I-ever since Diego told me what happened, I’ve just been worried sick. Are you okay? Are you…in pain?” she asks him, running her hands down his shoulders with a barely-there touch.

“I’m alright.” He tells her gently, unable to keep the warmth from slipping into his tone.

She seems to accept his unwillingness to further discuss his injuries, giving him an understanding smile before moving up to her feet. Her jeans are now damp from the wet ground, but Vanya pays it no attention.

“Five I…I was so worried. I thought if the last time I got to see you was that brief moment at the funeral that, I’d never forgive myself.” She murmurs sadly. “You just came back and I haven’t gotten to see you. I should have tried harder to try and talk to you. To connect.” She admits, clearly having had these thoughts multiple times over the course of the days.

“I just-I don’t want to lose you. Not again. Never again.” She confesses thickly.

Five breathes deeply, giving her a silent nod in agreement.

“I’m sorry for leaving without saying anything.” He apologizes to her softly.

Apologies always seemed easier when it’s to her.

“I had planned on visiting you earlier. Thing just, took a bit of an unexpected turn.” He mutters with a dry afterthought. “But I’m here, and you’re here as well. I’d certainly prefer it to stay that way.”

Vanya seems content with that answer. A loud honk from the car startles them out of their conversation. Diego throws up a hand in impatience through the windshield, waving them in with an exasperated motion of his arm.

“We can talk more at breakfast.” She says with those warm brown eyes. “Well that’s if-I mean are you sure you want me to come along to, this? It’s alright if you don’t, I really just, wanted to see that you were okay.” Vanya says to him awkwardly, eying the car with trepidation.

Five looks up to her. She seems nervous. Vanya glances distractedly back down at him, giving a hint of a smile before awkwardly licking her lips and looking to the side. He supposes this is rather out of the ordinary. A family outing with siblings that haven’t even been in contact with each other for years.

There’s a lot of things that have gone unsaid.

“I just don’t think-that I might be welcome, is all. I…did something that-um, that sort of alienated myself from them, and it’s been so long-” She tells him awkwardly.

Five frowns, expression turning harsh. He hadn’t talked about her novel in this run.

“No Vanya. You’re very welcome. If anyone says otherwise…” Five trails off, an agitated smile curling on his lips. “I assure you that no one will say otherwise.” He calmly promises her, pulling open the car passenger door and politely motioning her in.

“Finally.” Diego mutters sourly.

Vanya gives him a cautious smile before getting inside. Five shuts the door after, making sure she’s properly seated and idly listening to her muffled voice greet Diego. He opens the back-car door for himself. As he slides in, Klaus gives him an excited twiddle of his fingers in greeting.

“You’ve returned to me at last, my beautiful brother! It’s been 58 years!” the man cries dramatically, flopping forward in an attempt to hug him again.

Klaus has been clingy lately. More so than usual. Perhaps its misplaced guilt.

Five simply places out his palm, slightly pushing Klaus’s face away from him with clear intent that he isn’t interested in more physical contact. Vanya gives a soft hello to Klaus as she buckles her seatbelt, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ears.

“Hello dear Vanya, so good for you to join us on this fantastically breakfast-y morning.” Klaus greets with a wide smile. “Look at us! A whole five siblings out of seven! Not bad at all if I do say so!” he chirps happily, easily breaking the awkward quiet tension of the car. “It’s almost like we’re doing the function without the dysfunction part! Oh, I am just so proud of us.” he laughs with a dramatic weepy tone.

“Think you need to go back to first grade math Klaus.” Diego snorts as he pulls out from the side of the road and starts the drive to their diner destination.

“If only the poor man knew.” Ben sighs with amusement.

“Well I think you need to wear a different color other than black but it looks like neither of us are getting what we want today!” Klaus snarks back with a lazy smile.

“Well technically we’re all getting waffles, so we ARE getting what we want today.” Ben retorts and Five can hear the smile in the man’s voice.

“Got me there.” Klaus mumbles with chuckle, pressing his cheek against the cold glass of the car window with a content groan.

He can see Klaus fidgeting. It’s as if the man can’t stay still in his own skin. His expression is uncomfortable, fingers tapping incessantly against his ripped-up jeans in a desperate attempt to help filter out the jittery energy and shakes the withdrawal is giving him. He wonders how long Klaus has been waiting for any company at all to help him shake his habit. Even before, Five can recall the man’s words before in the kitchen of the house, how his sibling mentioned being around other people helps get the edge off a little bit.

Five can’t help but wonder how long Klaus has been calling out for attention and receiving no answer in return.

Why couldn’t they just do better for each other?

His finger runs idly down the spine of the book again, pondering his course of action. He could talk to Vanya about her powers, show her proof right in Reginald’s book that she has them. It might be too unpredictable with her emotions to tell her in a public place, and Diego is a wild card when it comes to Vanya. Then again, Diego also has a family-oriented mentality, no matter how much he tries to pretend otherwise.

The silence in the car feels tense.

“Sooo, what are we all ordering for breakfast? I mean I know I’m getting waffles.” Klaus rambles, unafraid to talk through the quiet that’s lingering in the vehicle.

“Eggs.” Diego mutters.

“Oh come on! Branch out why don’t you?” Klaus whines, running a tired hand through his dark disheveled locks.

“They’re healthy for you. Unlike you clowns, I want to stay in shape.”

“Eggs don’t sound so bad.” Vanya says in subdued agreement. “An omelet sounds sort of nice.”

“Vanya not you too! At least throw a muffin in with it or something!” Klaus despairs at the boring breakfast choices.

“Eggs with pancakes.” Diego concedes after a moment of thought.

“…Like how mom makes.” Vanya says, a smile in her voice.

Diego glances at her for a moment before turning his glance back at the road. “Yeah. Like how mom makes ‘em.”

“I’m getting waffles because I have taste unlike you heathens.” Klaus yawns, stretching out his arms and allowing them to flop every which way. “How about you, darling?” Klaus asks him with a knowing wink.

Five doesn’t say anything for a moment, staring at Klaus with a furrowed brow and heavy gaze. He didn’t realize it right away, but his brother is rambling like this on purpose. Klaus is opening up a dialogue for everyone in the care to chime in, making them feel less awkward all being together in such a tight space with so much of their past still left unsaid.

Maybe the man’s real gift is giving everyone a voice. Five can’t help but feel extremely lucky Klaus is with him at the moment. Without him, the likelihood of this outing turning extremely awkward or extremely tense skyrockets.

“I’m having waffles too.” He mutters faintly, turning to gaze out the window.

“Peanut butter and applesauce?” Klaus asks. “And everyone thinks I’m the weird one of the family.”

Five pauses, slowly turning his head to glance back at Klaus with a confused squint. That hadn’t happened this time. Klaus hadn’t known his favorite waffle combination before, the man had claimed Ben told him.

Was that a lie?

“Don’t knock it until you try it. It was pretty good honestly when I tried them. Can’t go wrong with chocolate chip though.”

“He’s always liked peanut butter.” Vanya says, giving out a small laugh. “But he has a bigger sweet tooth, so it’s always peanut butter with something sweet. Marshmallow. Chocolate. Applesauce.” She lists off with warmth in her voice.

“I’m right here.” Five huffs.

“Sorry.” Vanya apologizes, turning back to give him a brief and sheepish half-smile.

“Yeah, but warm peanut butter, then putting applesauce on top of that? Weird.” Diego huffs in amusement. “And you’re not just getting waffles Five. I expect you to at least have some fruit and yogurt with that.”

Klaus sighs dreamily. “Your punishment is to eat more food. What a life.”

“Did you…I mean-are the people who attacked you guys…” Vanya trails off, suddenly hesitant about approaching a more serious topic. “Did they get caught? Are you all really okay?”

“They aren’t an issue anymore so let’s just leave it at that.” Diego mutters, shutting down that conversation immediately. “We’re all alive.”

Diego likely doesn’t believe Vanya can handle anything that isn’t out of the norm, as she was never a part of that life, in even childhood.

“They’re dead.” Five informs her dimly.

“Maybe not the best thing to start the morning with.” Ben tells him in light disapproval.

Vanya doesn’t say anything afterwards, nodding stoically in conflict. Five looks out the window again, watching the streets go by among the cloudy grey sky. Eventually Griddy’s Doughnuts comes into view and they’ve arrived at their destination at last. The four all make their way into the diner, the bell jingling as Diego opens the door. There’s an awkward moment of hesitation as they locate a booth, not knowing who should sit by who.

Klaus has no issue with societal pleasantries though and wastes no time sliding in into a booth by himself. Five gestures to Vanya to sit across from the man, sliding into the seat shortly after her to sit by his sister. Diego accepts sitting by Klaus and takes a seat at the booth with a sour expression. Clearly the man is trying is biting his tongue so Five will be amiable to listen to him later.

The awkward silence ensues.

Vanya awkwardly shifts out of her coat, fiddling with the buttons on her shirt in silence. “So…was that your choice to wear a hoodie?” she asks Five with a tentative smile, eying the oversized garment with fondness.

“You know very well it wasn’t..” he huffs back to her, pushing back the sleeves in agitation.

They simply slide right back down.

She hides a smile by looking down at her lap. Five internally is so utterly endeared. He doesn’t understand why his sister of all people had to live such a terrible life and has to live such a dull one now. Is she happy like this?

“It’s a good look on him isn’t it, Vanya?” Klaus grins lazily, resting his cheek on his hand upon the table. “Fivey, that clothing style is called ‘casual’. Have you ever heard of it?” the man teases, looking at him with a playful glimmer in his eye.

Five scowls at him. “And what would you call your style Klaus? Homeless costume shop?”

“Boom!” Ben laughs.

Diego snorts, covering up his amusement quickly after with a harsh clearing of his throat.

“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Klaus breathes in dramatic emotion, placing a hand to his chest.

“I guess some things never change.” Vanya murmurs to herself, a small laugh tumbling from her lips.

“Well hello there, folks.” Greets the old waitress kindly, the woman walking up to them with a tray of waters and a handful of menus. “Good morning to all of you. I hope you’re having a nice day so far.”

It’s the same woman that’s always here. Agnes. He almost feels bad for killing off her potential happy ending with Hazel. Almost. Clearly, she’s been working at this outdated diner for most of her life, and that’s certainly not in any way a good thing.

“Can I start you off with some drinks?” Agnes asks the crew with a sweet smile.

“Coffee.” Five immediately blurts, the craving hitting him like a freight train.

“No.” Diego commands pins him with an authoritative stare. “And I’m not budging on that.”

Why can’t he just have a damn cup of coffee? God it feels like it’s been fifty years since he’s even gotten to have a decent cup because he keeps getting interrupted at every turn!

“Oh, I’m sorry young man, looks like your dad won’t be very happy with me if I let you have coffee. How about something else? Some juice? We have plenty of flavors.” Agnes smiles good-naturedly.

Diego blinks in surprise. “Wait what- “

“How about milk?” Vanya suggests to him quickly with a sympathetic smile, helping bring the conversation back on track. “Chocolate milk?”

It doesn’t sound like the worst decision.

“Fine." He relents with a cross of his arms after a moment, staring down at the table with a pointed stare. "That will be acceptable.”

Klaus chuckles in endearment at the action. “I want chocolate milk too! That sounds faantastic right now.”

“Um…now that I think about, I might go for that too please.” Vanya lightly interjects with a sheepish smile. “There’s something a bit…fun about that. It’s like revisiting childhood.”

“What’s the point in getting milk if you just waste the potential by putting sugar into it.” Diego rolls his eyes.

“Um, because it tastes good?” Klaus drawls, shifting to laying his hand on his arms on the table, table manners be damned.

Diego shakes his head in exasperation. “I’ll take a regular glass of milk please because I’m not a child, and also waters for everyone here. Thanks.”

"This is nice, isn't it?" Ben interrupts softly, the smile in his voice able to be heard.

Five takes a moment to just sit and take in the sights and sounds of the familiar diner. Sitting here with his siblings, it almost reminds him of back then. Almost. It’s almost ironic that he’s in the same body but he as a person is so different. Agnes doesn’t take long with the drinks, passing them out amongst the table. He takes a sip and is thrown back into his childhood at the familiar sweetness of the chocolate amongst the cold milk. There’s a conflicting feeling that tumbles around, as if he doesn’t know if he should enjoy the feeling for what it is, or push that down because its entirely irrelevant.

“Oh yeah, this is the good kush.” Klaus moans after taking a long and satisfied slurping sip through the straw, having no such reservations.

“It’s chocolate milk, not a miracle.” Diego drones with a roll of his eyes.

Vanya has a small satisfied smile of her own as she takes a tentative sip of her drink. Five understands why. There’s something about the nostalgia that even makes his heart a bit warm. He wonders if his sister has good memories about things like food because it was one of the only times she actually was allowed to be with her siblings.

“Are you ready to order, or do you need some time?” Agnes smiles, a little twinkle in her eyes of something Five can’t quite name.

“We’re probably ready.” Diego announces, gesturing blandly for Vanya to go first as he takes a sip of his drink.

The man freezes mid swallow, dark eyes narrowing at his glass. Five feels his lips crookedly upturn in dry amusement as he realizes Diego’s glass of milk looks the same as everyone else’s. Agnes must have accidentally forgotten not to make all of them chocolate. It isn't as if anyone can blame the woman, she's clearly old enough to have memory issues. Or at least that's what Five would have thought had he not noticed the very obvious mischief twinkling in her eyes just moments before. He waits for Diego to point out the issue with light curiosity. The man was always a secret softie about things like this.

Diego doesn’t say anything at all about her mistake, and Five can't help but find that predictable. A momma's boy through and through. If anything, he watches as the man gives the table a furtive glance before sneaking in another quiet sip, turning his attention fully to Agnes. If anyone notices the mistake, it’s not mentioned over Vanya’s soft murmur of her breakfast order.

Being in an outdated diner bickering amongst his siblings might become his new normal if the apocalypse is gone.

Five can’t find himself to mind too terribly much.

He might be able to accept that even.

Chapter Text

Eating is a strange concept to Five now that his world doesn’t consist of embers and a primary vicious instinct to simply survive. Even as the years passed and the weather changed, food had always been a questionable resource in the future. He hasn’t given it much thought during his time now back in the present. The unconscious relief of scarfing down any processed sugar he could immediately get his hands on had been too overwhelming to stop and think about the implications.

But now in a lull of activity, he stares down at his plate of waffles in contemplation, fighting the urge to take nibbles of it and stow most of it away for later. Hide it, so it could be safe from disease or bugs. Hide it, so he knows he can eat again when his stomach starts turning inside out. Hide it, so he has a sense of security that he won’t be curling in on himself from pain for one more day. Five doesn’t know why the urge hits him so terribly now, but it does in a wave and it makes it skin crawl and itch with unease.

Perhaps the strange fever dream seems to have taken its toll in more ways than one.

Instead then, he allows himself instead to observe. His siblings have already wasted no time tucking into their food as soon as it arrived in their own mannerisms. He watches Klaus go in spurts of practically inhaling the food, and then slowly languishing on a single bite with sloppy chews and lidded eyes. Diego eats with slight vigor, but always keeps his mouth politely closed while chewing, and holds his silverware with proper etiquette techniques but cuts into his breakfast with too much force. It’s almost funny. Vanya nibbles away at her own steady pace, several steps behind the others. She takes pauses to sip at her milk and glance out the window, and Five wishes he could understand what she’s thinking.

He subtly scans the three in quiet contemplation, almost wanting to call the feeling content. Almost. Klaus catches his eyes on the way back and the man winks at him silently. The man’s hazel eyes flick down to the plate to see Five’s untouched meal, and then they swivel back up with a confused raise of his brow. Five pays Klaus no mind, deciding to push around the fruit he was given with his fork, trying to make it look as if it had been at least tasted. It isn’t as if he could get away with taking all the food back with him anyways, he knows he should eat. It’s unsettling though, the way he is struggling with this out of nowhere.

“Want to try my muffin?” Klaus offers with a grin, cutting a portion off and holding up the crumbly baked good with his bare hand.

“No.”

“Aw come on! Let’s trade! I want to try one of your waffles and in return I give you some of my muffin. It’s a fair deal! I know my muffin is incredible, and muffins are a safe bet. I don’t even know what your weirdo combination of waffles is going to taste like. I’m the one with everything to lose here darling.” Klaus grins, already getting up and leaning over the table with clumsy enthusiasm.

Five watches with fond exasperation as the man steals an entire waffle off of his place by stabbing it in the middle with a fork, depositing the muffin delicately in its place. Diego barks out a warning exclamation as Klaus drags the peanut buttery applesauce waffle back over to him, spilling some of the topping onto the table along the way.

“Don’t steal his food, he needs his strength.” Diego chides in frustration as Klaus takes a large bite out of the entire waffle, still pierced on the fork like a strange kabob.

“Hey I shared back!” Klaus whines with his mouth full, eyes suddenly widening in revelation. “Oh my God, I totally get it. I totally understand the peanut butter and applesauce combination on waffles now! Oh honey you’ve been holding out on us oh god, this is so good. PB&A…. Iconic. Truly iconic.” Klaus moans in delight, scarfing down the rest of his waffle like the true homeless vagabond he looks like.

Diego shakes his head, returning to his eggs. Five glances over to see Vanya observing him with a sad look in her dark eyes. It immediately has him bristling, his eyes hardening by reflex as if to prove there’s nothing to see and there’s nothing she can find. He says nothing, but watches as she glances down to his plate and back up to him with a meaningful expression.

Why aren’t you eating? That’s the question her eyes ask to him softly. He could say so many different responses and they would all make sense or be perfectly justified. But the truth of it all is just that he’s not right in his own head sometimes, and that’s the scariest thought of all.

His mind is everything he has.

So he turns back to his plate and picks up the chunk of crumbling muffin that Klaus offered, and begins to rip off small pieces of it with his fingers to nibble on. It’s good. It’s so good that it’s exasperating. He has this thing about sugar, a gigantic love hate relationship with it. Eating that twinkie in the apocalypse with the confidence of its neverending shelf life hit him hard against the desire for processed sugary goodness. When he came back to the present though, those cravings simply returned tenfold. No amount of twinkie trauma could repress his absolute need for these delectably terrible sweets.

If he could live off of chocolate, marshmallow fluff, and cake, he probably would.

There’s little conversation at the table, an easygoing remark from Klaus here and there interrupts the clattering and clinking of silverware every so often. It’s not a bad silence, all things considered. A bit awkward perhaps, but not bad. Still, this strange distance between everyone, it really does make him ponder what had all happened when he was away. It is easy to put together bits and pieces just from context and logic. Ben’s death.  Vanya’s book. There had been too much damage from their childhood to repair the fractures that had silently been building with each year.

He wonders if he could have stopped this.

He wonders if he would have even cared enough. Wouldn’t he have been just as self-absorbed and immature as everyone else? And doesn’t it just figure that he’s the only one that knows what the hell he’s doing even after all this time. The irony is not lost on him that he remains in the body of his childhood, and yet is the only one who actually gives a damn about this family. Everything he has done and will do, is for them and yet they couldn’t even do the same for each other with all these years together.

Agnes eventually comes back around with the bill, giving them all her signature sweet smile and gratitude for stopping by. Diego takes it without a second thought, staring down Vanya with hard dark eyes as she begins to reach out to pay for her own portion. His challenging stare easily makes her hesitate; the woman awkwardly placing her hand back down in her lap in light confusion.

“I got it.” He announces gruffly, barely giving the price a glance before slipping several crisp bills in the book holder and snapping it shut with finality.

“Are you sure Diego? I can- “Vanya speaks hesitantly, falling silent when he levels her with another hard stare.

Five watches from the corner of his eye as his sister fidgets in her seat lightly, tapping a finger on her pant before digging into her purse anyways and picking out a couple dollar bills. She offers the cash to him with a small smile, bordering on playful.

“At least let me help add to the tip. She deserves a lot for putting up with us.” She tries to joke, but it comes out flat and awkward.

Diego takes the cash anyways and Five exhales through his nostrils slowly in subdued relief. He doesn’t know if this is a tentative first step to bridging the gap between this broken family, but he will take these moments of rooftop chases and arguing any day. His finger strokes the outline of the journal resting in the hoodie’s central pocket with silent contemplation.

He should tell Vanya.

Ignorance and secrets in an already broken family will only serve to cause more damage. Leonard Peabody was perfect proof of that. Certain things need to be brought to light for this family to grow up and move on. If he can present them in a controlled environment and manner, it will be difficult but doable. Slowly but surely, they can mend. How is it fair to his sister that she lives in a world of monochrome just because she is special? How is it fair that she had to suffer so many years alone because she had too much brilliance? She deserved the truth.

“Vanya, I should like to talk to you when you have some time.” Five says, earning a smile from her.

“I’m free until early evening. I took a half day and cancelled some of my early afternoon lessons.” She tells him, her brown eyes tender with dedication.

“Hey, we had a deal.” Diego protests, waving a fork around as he shovels some leftovers into a to-go container. “You get a happy little family outing and then you rest.”

“I can rest at the house, in my room.” Five mutters mulishly, crossing his arms. “Vanya being there doesn’t make any difference to that.”

“When I say rest, I mean actually rest. Do you know that? Do you know what rest means? Close your eyes, sleep. Rest your body.” Diego grumbles, sliding out of the booth and pinning him with an unyielding look.

“I will rest Diego.” Five agrees. “I just want to converse with Vanya for a bit before I do. Surely this isn’t some terrible request. She can watch over me.” He says in an attempt to appease the man and his surge of motherly hovering.

“Yeah, and you’ll have your little bachelor pad back! That’s exciting!” Klaus grins, stretching himself out wide like a cat before lazily getting to his feet.

“I really will watch over him.” Vanya speaks up, her voice strangely serious. “You have my word Diego. His rest and recovery are priority, I know that.”

He wants to be offended that she’s so serious about his protection, but it’s always different with Vanya. It always has been and it always will be. It makes him feel loved. These last few days have taught him that deep down, no matter how bad, that his family still loves one another. Diego had slaved over his comfort and well being because the man didn’t want to trust anyone else with Five’s care, and watched him every step of the way. If they are so serious about his health that they mutually bond over it, then maybe he needs to swallow his pride and accept it.

Maybe.

“I need to stop by the house for awhile anyways.” Diego grouses, and that’s as close to him relenting as it’d get.

“Can we have a sleepover in your room?” Klaus asks as the group walk out of the building, patting his full belly with a large exhale. “I am sohohhooo ready for a food coma.”

“We should leave Five and Vanya to themselves Klaus, we’ve been hogging him.” Ben chimes in, almost sounding reluctant with his last sentence.

“Boooooo…” Klaus whines, yawning loudly. He rubs his eye sloppily, only smudging his already smeared eyeliner even worse. “We’re calling dibs after nap time though; I want to play Uno.”

Vanya eyes Klaus with and unreadable expression as they reach the car, quickly glancing away to mind her own business. The weather has lightened up considerably. A bit of sun now peeks through the clouds, bringing some calm warmth to the crisp air. The four (five) all cram back into Diego’s car in a familiar silence. This time though, the silence doesn’t hang thickly around them like static. It’s a more content quiet, almost peaceful in nature.

It’s amazing that a simple breakfast can begin the process of healing old cracks.

Five leans against the door, lazily scanning the streets and apartments that pass by. He feels tired. Being present and aware is still more of a struggle than he’d like it to be at this point in time. His body isn’t as accustomed to this sort of physical pain yet, weapons and steel had not been introduced extensively into his life at this point, not until the apocalypse and his job afterwards. Training as a child was more focused on his powers. Of course combat had been introduced even at a younger age, but he was simply too fast on his feet to understand the pain of being outright shot or stabbed.

His eyes close for a moment, and when they open again the car is just pulling up into the side entrance of the house in the alleyway. He exits the car gingerly, feeling his body ache lightly with fatigue. It’s so annoying being a child. Klaus ruffles his hair lightly as the man passes, earning a half-hearted swat back in exasperation.

“Haha, maybe Diego was right. Nap first then talk?” Ben suggests.

Five simply rolls his eyes.

Diego pushes open the door to their childhood home with practice familiarity, stretching out his neck idly as the others fill in after him. The first thing they hear as they all pile inside is muffled shouting. Klaus and Five’s eyes meet with uncertainty as Diego looks up at the ceiling with confusion.

“The hell?” the man mutters, immediately making a beeline into the next room to stalk up the stairs.

The voices are unmistakably Luther and Allison. In a way that almost makes it worse. Five doesn’t think he’s ever heard them raise their voices at each other like this. Unable to resist his curiosity, he follows Diego into the main half and up the stairs as well. He’s already winded by the time he reaches the halfway point, but the voices are becoming clearer as they ascend, the argument starting to take shape. Vanya and Klaus have apparently followed suit as well, lingering a couple steps behind him as Diego takes the lead.

“How many times do I need to say that I did what I thought was right!” Luther’s voice booms in assured determination.

“As many times as you need to! Say something else Luther. For once in your life, say something else to me! I don’t want to hear the same thing over again!”

“Allison-Allison what do you want from me? We’ve been fighting about this for days-I-what do you want?”

“I want you to apologize and admit that you were wrong! That we were wrong!”

A pause.

“…I can’t apologize for doing what was ri- “

“Oh my God!” Allison groans. “I can’t do this with you. Every time I calm down and think that maybe we could have a talk about this-but I just- “

Diego decides to take this moment to intervene.

“Hey! What the hell is this?” he barks, approaching the two who are standing in the middle of the hallway looking every bit like they’ve already been arguing for an hour.

Luther clenches his jaw in response while Allison puts a hand to her temples.

She sighs. “Nothing. Just-it’s nothing Diego.”

“Allison- “

She stops Luther by holding her other hand up to him, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she does so. “It’s nothing.” She repeats sternly.

Deeming it’s safe to ascend, Five trudges up the last set of stairs with a rough exhale, feeling more ready for that nap with every step. Allison’s face softens into something concerned and deeply apologetic as she meets Five’s eyes.

“You’re okay.” She utters softly, taking a step forward and promptly freezing in place as Klaus comes up and throws a lazy arm over Five’s shoulders.

He looks up to see his brother has taken a page from his own book. The man is smiling far too sharply to look friendly and his teeth are showing just a tad too much. Five feels the man’s hand squeeze his shoulder lightly, as if to say to Allison that she can think twice before approaching. This entire scenario feels a bit upside down. Allison and Luther are arguing. Klaus is acting overly emboldened. Five is too tired both physically and mentally to try and figure this all out.

“Lover's spat?” Klaus asks jovially, barely concealed malice oozing from his sugary tone.

“Five.” Luther says tensely, ignoring Klaus. “We should talk.”

That alone sets Diego’s temper into a boil, his nostrils flaring in anger. “Man fuck you.” He drawls, pushing two fingers into Luther’s chest and getting into the man’s space. “I just called you about the situation and that’s all you have to say? Seriously? Fuck. You.” He emphasizes with a sneer. "We almost died out there and all you care about is yourself. When are you going to get over yourself man? Huh?"

Luther clenches and releases his fists, trying to reign back his control. It’s clear whatever him and Allison have been arguing about has teetered that perfect leader composure more than once. Such a dangerous weakness to exploit. Is it any wonder the man is so predictable? If Five wasn't so tired of this whole pointless endeavor he might feel concerned. But right now he's just tired. Very tired.

“I-Look that’s not what I-“Luther tries feebly but finds himself at a loss for words. “Later. We can talk later. I just wanted to say that-I didn’t want to fight but you left me no choice and- “

“Just stop Luther. Know when to quit.” Allison grits out, turning back to Five. “I am..so sorry Five. For everything. I-we’re family and…” she trails off as her eyes catch Vanya lurking behind them in the background. “And I should have been a sister first, and questioned you second.” She finishes, fiddling with one of her golden bracelets. “I’ll be here if you need anything, okay? I’m…I am sorry.”

Apparently she doesn't understand her own lesson of knowing when to quit, because this is just as draining as dealing with Luther.

“Splendid. Now please move out of the way.” He drones apathetically.

Allison looks at him, her eyes flicking to her other siblings bracketing him before taking a dejected step to the side. At least she’s smart enough to pick her battles. Five has no doubt that she will try and corner him when he’s alone to use her wonderful and persuasive word choice on him to ask for forgiveness, but at least it’s not now. Diego is still staring Luther down with aggression lining his frame but has backed off to keep his distance. Luther looks strangely alone, standing there tall and out of place as he stares at Five with unreadable eyes.

“Dad would have wanted me to stop you. I was just trying to do right by that, so I can't apologize.” Luther says, not backing down from his ideals, not even to apologize for harming his own sibling. "I was justified." he repeats firmly.

“You don’t know anything about what the old man wanted.” Five smiles tiredly back up at him, feeling pity line his heart for his stupid fool of a brother. “You really don’t.”

The journal feels heavy in his pocket.

“And you do, Number Five?” Luther challenges, eyes burning with something maddened. “You do?” he repeats.

There’s so much aggression in the giant man’s frame, it’s almost frightening just because of his size alone. Five swallows thickly, but doesn’t cower, choosing to look Luther straight in the eyes even as the man draws himself to his full height. He doesn’t know why Luther is acting like this. It’s easy to get under the man’s skin, anything mentioned Reginald is an easy way to get there, but some of this anger seems unnatural and misplaced. Perhaps it’s a combination of everything piling up, Reginald’s death, the rooftop chase, the apparent unraveling of his and Allison’s understanding of one another. He watches quietly as Luther takes an aggressive step forward.

“You always act like this, like you’re better than us. I’ve been the leader of this group, of this family for years while you just-ran away from it.”

Five inhales slowly, choosing not to allow that to hurt. It doesn't. Klaus squeezes his shoulder.

“Luther-“he tries rationally, trying not to get irritated at the scenario.

“How can you claim to still know better than us? Than me? I held everything together, me! While you were off gallivanting in the fu- “

“SHUT UP!” Klaus interrupts viciously, his voice echoing off the walls into the stark silence.

Everyone is so surprised that the almost frantic laughter from Klaus following after bursts into the quiet like nails on a chalkboard. Five can feel the man’s hand on his shoulder clenching and unclenching before the other hand mirrors the same on his other shoulder. Klaus lightly steers Five forwards to continue the trek up to his room.

“Our dear baby brother needs his beauty sleep! No time for chatting now, that’s all!” Klaus titters choppily, adrenaline and frenzied energy thick in his words as he urges Five along quickly, as if he's only now realized what he's done.

“Klaus.” Ben calls softly.

There’s a small noise of movement behind him and Five somehow just knows that it’s Vanya following them.

“Wait I didn’t-“ Luther’s voice calls after them after a moment, the man’s brain finally catching up to his words.

Eventually after one more set of stairs, Five’s room is reached. He’s beginning to feel a cold sweat coming on with the exertion, having forgotten just how many stairs there are in this accursed building. Klaus slams the door shut behind Vanya, whirling around and digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“God! He just fuckin’ pisses me off!” Klaus seethes, pacing the floor. “Acting like he kept our family together. Well look at us now!” he barks out a hysterical laugh. We sure are one big happy family aren’t we?!” he grins shakily as he drops his hands. “He’s such a fucking prick! Acting like-acting like you didn’t go through hell and back you know?”

Did Klaus know?

Vanya helps Five settle into a comfortable sitting position at his headboard, propping up some pillows for him for support. She softly pushes some strands away from his face with a sad smile, turning to Klaus with the same expression.

“He really is an asshole sometimes.” Vanya agrees stoically, earning a lighter laugh from Klaus.

“Klaus.” Five commands, watching the man immediately turn his entire attention to him.

So earnest to help, so dedicated. Five observes his brother’s smudged face and stressed hand fidgeting. He observes his brother’s constant sniffs and agitated fingers running through his unkempt hair. He observes his red-rimmed eyes from emotional distress and the antsy shuffling on the balls of his feet. Klaus is supposed to be self-absorbed, only looking out for himself and the next rush. This is the man who is either always drunk or always high, and yet he’s shown the most kindness and loyalty throughout this endeavor so far. He’s stood up for Five time and time again, in more than one timeline.

And Klaus has never asked once for anything in return except for Five’s company. His heart aches in a way he doesn’t understand, but the sudden and frantic need to soothe his brother’s surfacing hurt cannot be contained.

“Do you want to play Uno?” he asks gently, more gently than he should have ever asked such a ridiculous question.

Seeing his brother’s face light up like he’s just been given the perfect present is worth it though. Vanya smiles at the eager expression on their brother’s face as well, resting her hand on Five’s own in tentative pride at his kindness. The humorous enthusiasm wears off quicker than usual though, and instead Five is pinned with the grateful hazel eyes of his brother thanking him so genuinely that he needs to turns his head away.

That doesn’t stop Klaus from making his way over to join the other two sitting on the bed, leaning to envelop Five in a gentle hug from the side in thanks. Five sighs, but finds his hand moving to rest his palm on the back of the man’s head gently, his other squeezing Vanya’s hand back. There’s the faintest sensation of something cold that touches the nape of his neck and his eyes close knowingly, Ben’s gratitude also being made known.

He supposes that maybe, they might always be broken. But…at least they could be broken together.

Chapter Text

Five doesn’t remember his eyelids growing heavy to the point where he couldn't keep them open. He doesn’t remember Vanya and Klaus looking at each other knowingly over his drooping head. He doesn’t remember them quietly guiding him to his bed and tucking him under the covers. Not the soft touches of Vanya checking his wounds or the removal of a soft weight from his stomach. His head is filled with hushed murmurs and the soft tap of cards being placed down even after he is in bed. He remembers having fun, even if Ben was cheating a little to help Klaus win in an effort to make their upset brother regain his smile. Five allowed it for one round, but after that it had been fair game. Vanya was surprisingly adept at the game, and over the course of several rounds they had all at least scored a win.

That’s the beauty of chance, Five supposes. It was an equal playing field for everyone, or rather, an unevenly equal playing field. No one was favored over another.

But it had been nice.

His mind is still black when he hears the door open, more murmurs.

Blissfully dark once again.

But when his eyes snap open again to shake the ash from his mind, his side is aching and there’s a bead of sweat building up on his forehead. Five stares up at the familiar ceiling in breathless disorientation. It’s not dark out, the curtains have simply been shut to keep too much of the daylight from creeping in. His hands automatically clench in anxiety, earning of a sharp flare of pain through his stitched hand as a warning to release the tension. Did he have a nightmare? Was it so bad that it woke him up but too familiar that he couldn’t even remember it? The mind is so annoyingly fickle sometimes.

He maneuvers himself into a sitting position, wincing at his throbbing side. The sheets and comforter have been thrown about. A restless sleep then. It’s nothing new. Five grimaces as he wipes across his forehead, feeling too warm in his brother’s oversized clothing. It only serves as a reminder of how stuck he truly is in the younger shell of himself. That thought is enough to propel him out of bed and over to the closet. At the very least he can thank Vanya and Klaus for leaving him in these casual clothes and not being stupid enough to think otherwise. The black overgrown garment is casually pulled off his torso and chucked onto the bed, the coolness of the room giving him relief now that he is free of the thick fabric. His hand automatically reaches out for a crisp white uniform blouse, refusing to wear something like his pajamas just because he has an injury. The buttons take longer to do up because of his injured hand, which earns them a whispered curse before he eventually finishes. He gingerly slips on his sweater vest of checkered reds, blacks, and silvers before slipping on the classic blazer. Shorts, socks, dress shoes. Check, check, and check. Five eyes the black tie for a moment before scoffing and swiping it to put on.

Might as well just complete the ensemble. Presentation is important regardless of a state of being.

He’s straightening out his tie in familiarity when a thought hits so hard he draws in a physical exhale. Five turns around swiftly, grabbing Diego’s hoodie he was previously wearing with tense fingers. He can already feel the lack of familiar weight, his hand patting down the garment in disbelief.

Where is the journal?

He inhales deeply through his nostrils, moving around to the desk beside his bed. Perhaps Vanya or Klaus simply set it on the table or somewhere else trying to be considerate towards him. Vanya isn’t a snoop; she wouldn’t have taken such a thing. Not even if she had seen their father’s initials. She wouldn’t. Klaus knows how important the journal is and certainly wouldn’t have swiped it unless he wanted to maybe keep it safe while Five was asleep. Five bites another curse, his hands winding up to push through his dark locks of hair in frustration.

It isn’t here. The journal isn’t here.

He decides to panic later, swallowing that irrational burst of adrenaline down and using that to instead leave his room to go on the hunt for his two siblings that had been with him last. The sun hasn’t set yet, and he can surmise by its position it's around late afternoon. He had not been out for very long at all. His feet descend the numerous stairs down onto the main floor. Five heads down and peeks his head into the sitting area, finding not a soul.

The house is quiet.

He doesn’t know why that unnerves him. Someone should be here. Someone has to be here. They couldn’t possibly all be out at the moment, and Diego would throw a fit if he knew Five was left alone regardless of if he was resting. Right?

So where is everyone?

The only current sounds Five can hear are his own footsteps across the old wooden floors and the muffled sounds of the streets outside. He pauses, listens for anything at all. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He wanders the halls. There’s no one, no one at all who is waiting for him. As he continues down a hallway, the sound of soft humming meets his ears. His feet automatically take him towards it, finding his way inside the kitchen. Dark golden hair curled perfectly to a pristine vision meets Five’s eyes as he gazes upon Grace’s back. She’s humming an old familiar tune, cooking something at the stove. Five takes in her pastel blue dress and dainty ensemble with apathetic eyes, something akin to pity lining his gut.

“Grace.” He greets to her neutrally, hoping she might at least have some answers about where his wayward siblings might be.

She turns to his voice and levels him with a warm smile, slender hands going to smooth down her apron. “Oh hello Five, dear. Would you like a late lunch, or early dinner perhaps depending on how you prefer?” she titters with a little giggle as if they are sharing an inside joke.

“No thank you, Grace. I’m hoping you might be privy to the location of Klaus or Vanya.”

His false mother simply flashes him that same smile, white teeth behind ruby red lips smiling daintily in symmetrical fashion.

“Why I’m certain they are around! Though Diego dear had to leave for work. He’s always staying active.” She says fondly, the warmth in her voice so genuine that it’s still hard to believe she’s not human. “Such a hard worker that boy.”

“Where are they?”

“Perhaps you should ask your father, dear. I’m sure he’d know, but first you should sit down for a nice meal! I’m making pancakes.” she says distractedly, turning back to the stove.

His lips automatically curl into a sneer, wondering what sort of message she’s trying to imply by telling him to talk to Reginald. It’s only until she turns back to continue cooking that he realizes smell of burning food. Diego had said, or rather implied in his own way that Grace might not be doing so well. Seeing it in person is strange. If he didn’t know what his mother truly is, he could only surmise she made a small mistake. But androids don’t make mistakes as simple as burning the food. He’s never felt as close of a bond to Grace as the others. It isn’t that she had done her job poorly, it’s simply that Five doesn’t trust easily. Grace had always been good to him though; she was good to everyone. At the very least he could internally thank her that she had been around to smooth out the edges just a bit from many of the sharp wounds that Reginald inflicted. Sometimes that can make all the difference.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t for him, but Five certainly doesn’t blame her for a hopeless situation. It’s not in her programming to create miracles.

“Grace, I really need to know where Vanya and Klaus are. Are they in the house or not?” he insists quickly, wanting clarification before he ends up going on a worthless pursuit that wastes time.

“Oh, I’m certain they are nearby Five, you don’t need to worry.” she says, staring down at burnt batter in her pan. “Just take the lift down, darling. That’s where they had been headed last.”

The lift?

“What?” he asks in confusion.

“You just need to take it down, and then you can go spend some time with your brothers and sisters.” She reiterates, turning her head to glance down at him with a maternal smile. “Do you need some help finding it?” she asks gently, holding out her hand as if he’s some sort of lost child that needed to be guided.

“Show me.” He demands testily, refusing her attempt to treat him like the age he looks like.

Grace nods kindly, making her way out of the kitchen. Five watches in discontent, turning back to the stove and silently turning off the hob. He presses his lips together, wondering what could be causing this sort of glitch in her programming. She leads him down the long narrow halls, heels clicking with each measured step. Down a set of stairs, then another. The corridors of this house had always been twisting and turning, but Five had never been down these flights of stairs. The lift looms across from him as they reach the bottom of the flight. Where did it go? Reginald had always been a man of many secrets, too many, but Five had simply thought most of the man’s time was spent in the study; writing of pursuits and secrets the world might never see.

“Oh, and Five…dear?” Grace’s voice rings out, shaking him from his thoughts.

He levels his gaze on her, finding her expression to be eerily unreadable. She’s perched on the second to the last step, a tentative hand on the stair railing.

“This will be our little secret, okay? Your father doesn’t want any of you children to go down here.” She smiles. Perfectly symmetrical, it always is. “Do bring round your siblings up for dinner later, won’t you?” she requests, placing her hands delicately in front of her.

Five stares at her wordlessly for a moment, eventually nodding his head in agreement. With a parting smile and a nod, she begins her ascension back up the stairs. Five listens to the sound of her heels disappear before he looks back to the lift. He opens the intricate metal gate surrounding it, stepping inside the contraption with wariness. A pull of the level and the mechanisms burst into churning sounds.

And it sinks.

And sinks. 

And sinks.

The lights grow dimmer with each level he descends until it stops with a shaky halt. He exits the lift with trepidation, wondering why both Klaus and Vanya would apparently be far below ground level together. Maybe Grace is malfunctioning to the point where even her memory is compromised. He doesn’t even know what’s down here, and he can’t imagine why any of his other siblings would especially they were apparently were not allowed in this area. A long narrow concrete tunnel spans long and open in front of him. Lights hum loudly above, giving the cold grey tunnel some light, though some flicker from age. What is this place? Five moves forward, eyeing two large doors that have already been opened. He stares ahead, down the long expanse with caution.

Luther’s looming form stares back at him from the other side.

“It’s Five!” Ben shouts in relief.

His heart gives a harsh thud as he realizes that Luther, Allison, and Klaus are also all on the other end. He walks forward blankly, the muffled voices of his siblings arguing now completely silent upon having heard the lift in action.

“Oh, thank god!” Klaus shouts upon seeing his brother on the other end of the tunnel. “I-I was going to come get you I swear but it all happened-and I just couldn’t leave her and-well it's all a little fucky right now! “Klaus laughs in manic energy, taking a couple staggering steps in Five’s direction.

His pale eyes adjust to the dim lighting as he gets close to his siblings. Immediately he can see Luther’s hand clutching onto the bright red journal of Reginald like a holy bible. That alone is enough to drop his stomach down to the floor. Luther’s frame is tense as a coil ready to burst, and his eyes are glinting with something that Five can’t name. Allison is hesitantly glancing behind him into what seems to be some sort of chamber room that-

His feet stop along with his heart.

Vanya.

She’s slamming and pounding on the other side of the chamber door, only a small window looking in to see her frantic face. Her dark eyes lock onto Five’s and she sobs wordlessly harder, pounding onto the door and putting a palm up to the window as if she is begging him to help. Why is she locked inside? What happened? He can’t even hear her cries from here. The chamber she’s inside is eating any sound she makes, forcing her to be a soundless specter.

Suddenly all of the blood rushes back up into him like it is burning his very veins. His heart which had previously felt suspended in time now beats loudly into his ears. Five feels the righteous anger envelop him like a wildfire, his eyes glinting dangerously as he stares down Luther with that damning crimson book.

“What. Have you done?” He says quietly, his words so sharply cold that it sends a chill throughout the entire room.

Luther inhales audibly at the question, his big fist clenching Reginald’s journal so tightly that his fingers are turning white with the pressure.

“Of course you’d show up.” The man replies, his eyes so self-assured, but there’s something else that that is completely unhinged. “The favorite son. Of course you need to come and make everything more difficult, just like you always did before-“

Five continues walking forward. “Release her. Now.” He snaps, distracted and unable to help himself from continuously glancing over to his panicked sister.

“Luther, please we can’t just- “Allison tries, reaching out a cautious hand.

“You knew. You knew all along.” Luther grits out, his eyes locked onto Five’s. “You knew there was this gigantic threat from our own sister and you didn’t even try to contain her. You knew, and you did nothing!” he shouts at Five, voice echoing down the walls.

“She’s our sister!” Klaus shouts in frustration. “She wouldn’t- " 

“She can’t control her powers!” Luther retorts back, “She can’t control anything!”

“I’m warning you. Let her go, she is not a threat to us.” Five warns, finally reaching the end opening room and craning his neck up to stare down his brother with steel eyes.

“You…” Luther seethes, his nostrils flaring in anger. “You were the worst of all. You made his life so difficult. You couldn’t just ever listen-“

“If I had I probably would be dead by now! Or worse, I'd be just like all of you selfish assholes!” Five barks back, clenching his hands into fists and feeling the flare of pain in warning on his injured hand. “You had no right to take that journal from my roo-“

He’s cut off by Luther taking a menacing step forward into his space.

“No. I had every right! It’s you who had no right to keep this to yourself Five. This-these are the answers I needed. This is everything I need to know, so can continue the legacy that dad would have wanted for-“

“Are you completely blind Luther!?” he snaps, gesturing to Vanya behind him. “Do you honestly think for one second that this makes sense!? How long have you been down here arguing with Klaus and Allison about this? Don’t you think that if the entire room is against you that you might be wrong!?” he seethes, glaring up at his brother with as much ire as he can muster.

He watches as Luther’s free hand curls into a fist, trembling with restrained emotion. “I am doing what I have to for this family.”

“Oh cut the bullshit man!” Klaus shouts, clutching at his black hair in frantic anxiety. “You don’t give a shit about any of us 'cept your girlfriend over there!” he laughs starkly, his laughter bouncing off the tunnel walls eerily.

“Luther…” Allison tentatively starts, eyeing Five with trepidation before turning her gaze back to the other. “We can’t lock up our own sister, she’s so scared. This isn’t right.”

It might be the first time she’s fully taken a stance that isn’t with him. Although it’s somewhat surprising, it’s also a relief to know that not even Allison is so stubborn that she can overlook this blatant crossing of the line. Luther slowly turns his head over to her in disbelief, as if he’s seeing her for the first time. Their large brother straights ups, taking a step backwards.

“Even you, Allison?” Luther murmurs softly.

She frowns. “I’m not against you I just-“

“Being a leader, means that you have to make the hard choices. And this? This is one of those times. None of you have any idea what she’s capable of.” Luther barrels forward, interrupting her and holding up the journal. “But this is what matters. These answers right here.”

“I don’t have time for this.” Five snarls, stepping towards the locked off chamber to open the door. “You’re a complete buffoon.”

He’s blocked off by the brick wall that is Luther, the man’s large form cutting off Vanya’s frantic face with his own body.

“Move.” Five warns.

“You’ll understand someday that this is how it needs to go.”

He doesn’t answer. Luther is clearly too far gone to reason with. Instead he musters up any energy inside of him and flings himself through a warp. The startling pain is causes is an unwelcome surprise and he tumbles out the other side with a gritted out expletive.

His sister’s screaming is overwhelmingly loud.

It’s raw and unadulterated fear with sobbing in between. Five only has time to glance around for a second before he’s enveloped into a tight embrace that makes his lungs burn with strain. His sister clings to him, pushing his head into the crook of her neck and rocking them both back and forth on the floor. The lights are flickering overhead, making him feel sick.

“Vanya!” he rasps.

“Five!FiveFiveFivepleaseIdidn’tdoanythingFiveFive-“ his sisters rambles in a barely coherent structure, her gasping breaths harsh down the back of his neck.

He has to pry himself from her with more force than necessary, clutching onto her shoulders with a tight squeeze as he looks into her tear-stricken face. “Vanya!” he shouts again, trying to grab her full attention.

“Oh god pleasepleaseI-Ididn'tdoanything!Please-“ she sobs as her head droops. “Not again, I can’t be here again. Not again-notagain-“

Again?

“Vanya!” he barks in desperation, earning a startled jerk of her head upwards to him. “It’s going to be okay. Alright?” He says firmly. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get you out of here.” He tells her in slow words that are full of intention. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Five.” She whispers back to him, voice cracking on a sob as she shudders and falls apart again.

The door is wrenched open with a harsh grinding groan and suddenly he’s being yanked backwards with a large hand. The sudden jerk of movement sends a shock of pain through his body and Vanya screams as he’s thrown out of the room. He lands harshly onto his back, feeling like the air from his lungs rattled and shaken from his body. The door shuts with thud of finality, locking away his sister’s wailing once again.

“Let him go!” 

“Luther!” Allison yells in alarm.

“What the hell!” Klaus shouts in panic, kneeling down by Five with hovering hands. “He’s injured you-you asshole, what the hell’s your problem! Shit, are you okay?”

“I-I didn't mean-He can’t be in there! It’s for everyone’s safety!”

“You’re out of your mind.” Five rasps quietly from the floor, staring up at the ceiling blankly. “Nothing you do will bring him back. Not even if you throw us around like him.”

Silence.

A loud metallic slam startles everyone out of the tense silence. Five pushes himself up into a sitting position with a grimace, waving Klaus’s hands away. Luther's fist is embedded into the side of metal chamber, the material groaning under his power but not yielding. The other siblings stare at their brother’s back with caution as the man’s hand slowly slides down and dangles limply at his side.

“Why, are you always making things so difficult for me? I’m not the bad guy here! Regardless of what you think, I’m not.” Luther says quietly. “It’s like...It's like I’m the only person who actually cared about dad. He might not have been perfect, but he was our father. He was our father. He built a legacy-” Luther turns, fully facing them.

“He built a legacy off of greed and manipulation.” Five cuts him off, pushing himself off of the floor and back into a standing position. “He abused his own children and made them into a fucking sideshow attraction, and you know that.”

His side aches.

“He did his best for us.” Luther grits out.

“Is this what is best for us, Number One? If you honestly think that then you’re just as bad as he is!” Five shouts back. “Didn’t you read the journal? Didn’t you see everything that he has said about you? About us?” Five appeals passionately, spreading his hands out. “He treated us like fucking test subjects! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“It-It means everything to me!” his brother stammers, placing a giant hand to his chest.

“Then why are you so insistent about carrying his broken "legacy" when-"

“Because if I don’t then my entire life IS A LIE!” Luther roars in agony, stunning everyone into silence.

Five’s brain stutters and stumbles before it simply halts, completely thrown off course from the track it had previously been going down. He takes in Luther’s glittering eyes of manic desperation, clutching that cursed journal like it’s the only thing tethering him to this world. Allison has put a hand to her mouth in emotion, her eyes tearing up seeing the real hurt her brother is experiencing. Klaus is standing just behind Five like a protective bodyguard, nibbling his lip in clear conflict. Everyone is silent. The words sink in too long, and the raw pain behind them is now revealing itself.

Luther is hurting.

Of course Five had known that Luther would take Reginald’s death the hardest, but he didn’t think it would span across so many different levels of grief. Now that Luther has read the journal, and knows the way Reginald truly thought about them all he had made a decision. Instead of accepting that everything he had ever done was not for a greater purpose, but instead simply the selfish machinations of one old man, he decided to cling onto the idea instead. The idea of Reginald. The idea of the old man being a stern but caring father. The idea that they were all a family and that he had to be the one to take over now that their father is gone. The idea that there had always been a bigger purpose for everything that Reginald had made him do. The idea that Reginald loved them and had simply wanted children to call his own.

If his brother doesn't follow that belief, he has to face the harsh reality that  the meaning behind everything he has ever done crumbles in his hands and blows away like dust.

“Luther...” Allison starts with sympathy.

“Everything I have ever done; I’ve done for him. I’ve done for us. I thought-“Luther cuts himself off, his voice cracking at the end. “I can continue what he wanted.”

“Well what about what we want, huh?” Klaus asks shakily.

“All of his work, my work…it won’t be wasted. It can't be wasted” he continues, tuning out everyone's words.

“Luther.” Five starts, at a loss about how to approach this situation.

Pushing Luther to face the truth might even do more harm than good, he doesn’t know. He’s at a loss here. It isn’t as if he can just tell the man to get the hell over it and stop being so purposefully blind. Luther’s sheep-like mentality has always been an issue, but never has it gotten to such a degree. Never has it gotten so bad that it has been purposefully chosen in order to preserve his heart.

“Just be quiet, Five!” Luther snaps. “I’m-I'm so sick of you. You come in here after being gone for so long, questioning anything and everything. You always have this way of making me seem like I’m some sort of idiot just because I actually cared to listen to instructions and not make it more difficult for him. You, who he triumphed so much.” His brother points at him with a sneer. “At least I know who I am, and at least I know that everything I’m trying to do, it’s for our family. What do you know? What do you even know!?”

Five blinks in the face of his brother’s ire, wondering how much of this stems from reading his father’s frustrations and favoritism with Five and how much of this is just genuinely coming from Luther. “You’re not him Luther, and you don’t have to be.” He states quietly.

“Of course I’m not him, he was- “

“No Luther. He wasn’t, he really wasn’t.” Five says in resignation.

Klaus stands a little closer to Five, so close that he can feel the barely-there brush of the man’s shirt at his side. “Yeah! You can be your own person now though; you can think and do things for you. You can live your own life! Have some fun, do a little jaunt around town.”

“I already am my own person.” Luther states, but his voice wavers and everyone hears it.

Five turns his head to stare down Allison, who thus far has been more of a passive spectator than any help. He wonders if she doesn’t know what to say, or if it’s hard for her to go against the sibling she has always been closest with. Or maybe she just still can’t choose and internally agrees with Luther, regardless of what she said. Still, if there was a time for her to step up, it needs to be now. There’s some sort of change in the air that can happen, they just need to figure out the right words.

And Five isn’t always good with words.

Her own dark eyes stare back, conflicted and concerned. She seems just as lost as Luther does, not knowing what to say to their hurting sibling. Did their arguments just before this rattle their relationship too deeply? Is that why she’s remained silent for most of this encounter? She turns back to Luther, searching the man’s face for something.

“Luther.” she calls to him gently.

Luther turns over to look at her with uncertain eyes, a flicker of hope burning within them.

“We can start over and-and finally be a family the right way.”

Something cold passes through Luther’s eyes and it’s like Five can visibly see the walls slam down. Shit. Five doesn’t know what she said that caused such a reaction, but clearly those weren’t the right words. Whether it’s the direct insult to Reginald’s fathering or something unfortunately more like saying she wants to remain his family, Five just doesn’t know nor does he think he wants to.

The only thing he is certain of is that they just lost the one window of opportunity they had.

“This is how it is. Just go back upstairs and let me take care of this. Vanya is a danger.”

“She takes medication that dampens her powers. She is not a threat. She’s not dangerous.” Five interjects angrily, frustrated that he needs to even mention that. “You would know that if you read the journal.”

Five hasn’t even read all of the journal, but he knows for a fact that Vanya’s entire power debacle is detailed in great length by Reginald. It was a main source of frustration for the man as she could never be fully contained. Luther’s logic seems to be on the back-burner which isn’t surprising since anything having to do with their dad instigates a more emotional response, but this doesn’t make sense.

“I’m taking active precautions now that dad isn’t here.”

“Well it’s not like you can just keep her locked up man!” Klaus grits out. “We all got lives to live and we’re all um-you know, adults? You don’t have power over us.”

Vanya has disappeared from the circular window at some point which makes Five’s heart throb in worry. He needs to get her out. He thought he had a chance to initially convince Luther, but they took a wrong step somewhere and now it’s only getting muddier by the second.

“Just let me do what I need to do!” Luther shouts in frustration, waving around the journal wildly.

“And just what is that, Luther? What are you going to do?” Allison snaps, throwing her hands up in the air. “That’s our sister in there!”

“Our sister with untamed powers whose medication could run out at any moment and then what!?” Luther shouts angrily back. “She can’t be trusted to just roam free now that dad is gone! He always had a plan to subdue her if she ever got out of hand!”

“She’s been living alone for years!”

“This is fucking insane.” Klaus whispers, digging his knuckles into his forehead as Allison and Luther start a circle of arguments.

“We should call Diego.” Ben suggests. “And maybe even Pogo.” As a hasty afterthought.

“We can’t just leave her in there though for that long.” Five whispers. “You didn’t hear her.”

“Oh I heard her plenty…I followed them down when he threw her in here.” Klaus mumbles, blinking rapidly to push back some tears threatening to surface. “That’s Vanya, she wouldn’t hurt a fly...hell, an ant!”

Five moves forward without really processing what he’s doing, trying to get a glance inside the locked room. What if she passed out? What if she can’t breathe? He almost had his ribs cracked when she desperately clung to him the first time. There is no way to describe the pure terror Vanya is experiencing just by being in that room.

Luther’s hand clamps down on his shoulder firmly, tightening to a painful degree.

“Go back upstairs.” The man warns. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

Five balks in surprise at the threat for a single second before bursting into angry laughter, his side igniting in agony as he gasps out his harsh exhales. “What are you going to do about it, hit me?” he grins sharply. “You’ve already done that.”

He watches as Luther clenches his jaw so tight that he can almost hear the teeth grinding against each other, the fingers tightening on his shoulder to an agonizingly painful degree. Five warps through his brother’s grasp and back into the sound proof chamber, staggering in pain as he stumbles out the other side.

Fuck he really can’t do that much in his current state.

Vanya is laying on the ground, curled up in a fetal position as she clutches her head. She’s murmuring a string of unintelligible words in a constant stream. Her fingers tug sharply at her mousy brown hair, and Five can see that she’s even tugged a couple strands out from pulling too harshly. He quickly moves over to her, his knees harshly thudding onto the floor as he comes to her side.

“Vanya.” He calls, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “Vanya, I’m here.”

There’s a flash of movement in the window and he knows his time is too short. Luther is going to come back in and haul him out. He needs to decide what to do. He could try and warp them both out of the room but there’s no way he’d be able to warp them far. Luther could still easily just outrun them and throw her right back in. Allison’s is standing right in front of the window, trying to stop or convince Luther to stop. He’s grateful for his sister’s help, even if it’s a little too late. Still, every second counts in this scenario.

“Five?” Vanya croaks, slowly releasing her hands from her hair.

She turns sluggishly over to him, eyes roaming up at down his form in disorientation. A shaky hand reaches out, touching his cheek.

“You’re alive.”

Five frowns softly, wondering what sort of strange fugue state his sister is in mentally. “Yes.”

Her eyes widen and she scrambles up and onto her knees. “You’re alive. Oh my god, you’ve alive.” She chants in awe, her hands reaching out and touching him on the face, the hair, brushing his shoulders and feeling his blazer.

“Vanya, I’m alive. We will get you out of here, but you need to hang on until then, alright?” he says, putting his hands on her shoulders in an effort to steady her.

His sister isn’t listening to him, still looking at him like he’s a ghost that’s returned from the past. He is, in a way, but it isn’t promising that she somehow has reverted to this sort of mental state in her panic. She pulls him into another embrace, cradling the back of his head like he’s something precious to be held.

“Never again. Never again I won’t lose you ever again. You’re all I have, Five. You’re all I have.” She says, repeating this several times over.

She had already said this once before, something similar to it anyways.

“Vanya, please.” He says softly, unable to be frustrated at her lack of coherency in this situation.

She’s so obviously traumatized. It hurts him to know how much his sister has suffered. It’s in such a different way then the other siblings, but just as damaging. They are all so broken, is it any wonder that Five couldn’t get this right even the second and third time around? He pulls away from her with a bit of a struggle, looking at her cracked expression with solemn eyes. They stare at each other, the silence of the chamber creating a faint humming in their ears from just how quiet it is. It’s unnerving, and it makes him feel sick with the knowledge that she has been locked in here before.

He hadn’t known.

He really hadn’t known.

God, he hadn’t known.

The door wrenches open again and Five closes his eyes in resignation. What can he do here? He’s not at full strength, Klaus can’t fight, and Allison…he doesn’t know what Allison is doing. She has issues about using her powers, though apparently it didn’t stop her from using it on him. Couldn’t she get Luther to at least stand down? Allison is too emotionally compromised with Luther’s well being, wanting to appeal to him in the humane way so she doesn’t have a guilty conscience afterwards.

Funny how morals only apply to certain people.

“Luther are you listening to me!?” Allison shouts at the man who is reaching inside the chamber. “I’m telling you the truth!”

“What does that matter?” Luther shouts back, his eyes set on Five with steely determination. “Even if you rumored her that’s just a belief! You’ve seen how easily the loopholes can be taken advantage of!”

Vanya clenches onto Five tightly, pulling him to her chest and squeezing the very breath from his body. His side throbs in pain, the sudden movements and pressure on it too much for his injuries to withstand.

“No no no you can’t take him!” Vanya shouts at the intimidating figure in the doorway, trying to wrench them further back into the chamber. “He just got back, you can’t take him from me!” she screams at Luther again, the anger in her voice palpable and the most intense he’s ever heard her.

Luther is trying to compact himself through the door, his giant frame making it difficult to get inside. “Stop. Don’t make this harder than it has to be Vanya.”

“Vanya, it’s going to be okay, I promise.” Five murmurs, his words slightly muffled into his collar.

He pulls away to stare down Luther, feeling Vanya’s hand desperately reach out and tug at his sweater vest. Her whimpers crack his already broken heart.

“You know you can’t win, Five.” Luther states. “You’re in no condition. Just step out.”

Five grins in seething anger back at his brother. “You’re not my fucking dad, but if you so badly want to be like him, you’re feel free to beat me up again and haul me away. That’s what you want, right?”

They stare each other down, the lights flickering in the dark room like dying stars.

“I will never stop.” He rasps, feeling oddly out of breath. “If you continue like this Luther, I will never stop defying you. You’re always talking about the hard truths, but maybe you need to stop and acknowledge the real hard truth of your own”

“Stop.” Luther warns.

“Just say it, Luther. You loved him. You loved him and he used you. He used all of us. You know this. He sent you on all of these painstaking missions, and he sent you to the moon-“

“Don’t!”

“He sent you to the moon. He trusted you, not because you were exceptional, but because he knew you would follow orders and never question him back. He abused you.”

“I said don’t!” Luther shouts raggedly, slamming his hand on the outside of the room with a loud bang.

“He abused you, and you can’t admit that deep down you hate him just as much as we do, because everything you have done wasn’t for some amazing achievement. It was just for him!” Five spits, feeling his own raw anger at Reginald rear its ugly head. "It's always just been for him...and he didn't even like you."

Luther looks at Five as if he has never seen him before. Maybe it’s because Five is getting just as emotionally worked up now as Luther is. It’s not a side that he shows easily, besides casual ire and exasperation, but Reginald is always an exception. Now more than ever after that damned journal.

“I-I love him.” Luther croaks.

“You can love someone and hate how they act or treat you at the same time. I do. If I hated you, I wouldn’t have stuck around now, would I?”

Luther is silent, sluggishly blinking back tears welling up in his eyes.

“But my entire life, Five.” He whispers eventually. “My entire life was for nothing…? Every single thing I have ever done…”

“Of course not.” Five sighs. “You still have skills, talents, and things you have learned through this. You just need to not be such a blind fool and think and use them for yourself. Have you ever had an independent thought in your life? Or has it always just been run by him?”

“I- “

“Just...let us out, Luther.”

Another silence.

Slow tears are running down his brother’s face and all Five can find in his heart is sympathetic pity. Luther has always been different from them. It’s sad, to think that even following Reginald’s lead has all lead to this in the end anyways. The leader is just as broken and in just as terrible of a spot as they all are, just in a different way. Just like Vanya. Just like Klaus. Just like him. Just like all of his family. They have all suffered in an incredible magnitude, each in their own ways.

Five watches as Luther rubs a hand across his eyes, swiping at the tears a single time before ducking his head and backing out of the doorway.

“Alright.” The man relents softly.

Five stares out the clear entryway in stunned silence. He didn’t expect after everything that the outcome would finally go in his favor.

"Please get out of this room Five, I can’t stand this.” Ben says softly by his side.

Five gets to his feet, feeling Vanya’s tighten her grip on his clothing possessively.

“No.” Vanya suddenly says, jerking him out of his stupor.

No?

Confused, he turns his head, looking down at his sister. She’s staring at her palm blankly. There’s blood smeared her fingers, coating her skin in a crimson. He inhales in alarm, turning fully towards her to see where she injured herself.

“No, no no no. NO.” Vanya repeats, her hand trembling.

“What happened? Where are you hurt?” he asks in alarm, beginning to pat her down.

She shakily looks up at him then back down to her palm, then back up to him. Suddenly she clutches at his wrists, staggering upwards and pulling him to her chest in a protective embrace. His side throbs at the harsh jostle. The epiphany comes when she presses a hand to his side purposefully, earning a surprised inhale of pain from him.

Oh, it’s not her blood at all. His stitches broke.

“Wait, it’s fine Vanya. It’s just my- “he starts, but she suddenly screams so loud that it feels like the very walls are shaking.

Or maybe they are. It feels like her voice is twisting throughout his entire bloodstream pulling the air from his lungs. His ears are still ringing when she stops. He looks up at her in disorientation, trying to figure out what he can say to reverse the high intensity trauma she is still reliving just from being in the chamber. She’s not in her right mind, and he needs to get her out of here now.

“Vanya!” he shouts at her in alarm, grabbing at the hand that his shakily running over his wound.

“No no no I told you I wouldn’t ever lose you again. I can’t I can’t!” she sobs to the air, putting her hands against his face and holding him in place like that. “I CAN’T BE ALONE FIVE!”

Terror envelops him in a rolling wave as he stares up at her with wide eyes. It’s some sort of psychotic break. Luther’s turnaround has come far too late, the terrible damage has already been done.

“Vanya!” Five hears Luther shout behind them. “Calm down, it’s okay! You can come out!”

There’s a faint cracking sound that reverberates around the area.

“Shit.” Five curses, attempting to move closer to the doorway so he can exit the chamber, but Vanya’s nails are starting to dig into his cheeks and he doesn’t want to force her to let go when she’s already in this state.

“What was that?” Five hears Allison ask outside the chamber.

“The tunnel!” Ben shouts in alarm. “The wall just cracked!”

“What!?” Klaus shouts. “Oh-oh shit.”

“What Klaus?” Luther asks, high on alert.

“It’s-we gotta leave. Like. Now.”

“Vanya we need to go.”

“No. No I need to keep you safe. None of them are safe. None of them.” Vanya whispers incessantly, changing her grip to cling at his shoulders.

“You can keep me safe upstairs.” He retorts, tugging on her arm to try and get her to move with him. “This place might collapse.”

Fuck his side hurts.

Vanya pulls him back, her wide eyes unseeing. “NO. You can’t go anywhere! I can keep you here! I’ll do it right this time!” she says with a shaky smile.

“Vanya. Vanya I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere without you, but we have to leave!”

“I’m keeping you here, with me. You can’t go off again, I can’t-I can’t I can’t-“

“Vanya, enough!” Luther shouts, returning to the chamber doorway in agitated worry. “We need to go!”

Five attempts to pull Vanya along with him as he tries to reach Luther, but as soon as she realizes who she’s heading to she tries to yank him backwards. He plants his feet in, trying to hold his ground without having to physically fight off his sister. He can’t warp again, too concerned about what sort of consequences that might have if he separates from her. His wound is now open with full force, a bloody stain blossoming through his clothing.

And yet somehow the injury is the least of his worries right now.

“Five, can you-can you warp out and I can…” Luther trails off, looking at Five in hesitant question, as if asking for his permission.

Luther knocking out his sister is not an ideal scenario, but it might be better than staying here, considering the cracking is now echoing even inside of the room. Five grabs Vanya’s hand tightly, turning to face her in one last attempt.

“Vanya. I’m right here. I won’t leave you, I promise. But we need to leave, the tunnel might collapse.” He tries to explain to her rationally. “You told me to stay, and I will stay but we need to leave.”

She stares at him with glassy eyes, putting a bloodied hand over his own. “You didn’t listen to me the last time I tried to tell you no. So, I can do it right this time. I will, I will Five. I’m going to do it right this time.”

Her hand squeezes his own tighter.

He presses his lips together in disappointment, but it’s not her fault. She’s not even fully in the present, mashing past and current events together in some sort of distorted whirlwind. With a grit of his teeth he falls backward into his familiar blue light, seeing his sister’s eyes widen before he’s thrown into his void. He comes out on the other side, immediately feeling the hands of Klaus support him before he stumbles and falls.

“Shit your side. What are we going to do with you, sunshine?” Klaus laughs tensely, the light-hearted comment falling flat in the wake of their sister’s breakdown.

He grits his teeth as he takes off his blazer, pressing it harshly into his side while Klaus keeps him upright.  It isn’t Luther who steps in though, but Allison. Five watches her slip through the opening with effortless movement, disappearing into the room. Klaus tugs Five back a bit, trying to corral him to start moving down the long corridor to the lift on the other side. Five can’t just leave without seeing Vanya though, he needs to make sure they all leave. All of them.

There’s another scream and suddenly Allison is being flung out of the chamber and onto her back. The walls of the very chamber room also groan and creaked under the strain of the power from within.

“What the-“ Klaus stammers in alarm.

“Allison!” Luther shouts, quickly kneeling down to his fallen sister.

Allison gasps for air, wheezing out a cough as Luther helps her into a sitting position. “No! I-I’m okay I-she…we should-“ she starts, but there’s a deafening crack from above them and suddenly they are art of time.

“MOVE!” Luther shouts, hauling Allison to her feet.

Five watches in detached observation as he’s hauled to face the direction of the lift and pushed along by Klaus in an effort to get out of there before the entire thing collapses. He cranes his head backwards in an effort to find Vanya, but a startled shout from the brother currently trying to tug him along startles him out of his thoughts. Suddenly the sound all comes rushing back in and there are pieces of concrete raining down on them, the earth rumbling from all around them.

Why did it always go so wrong?

Five tugs Klaus backwards, sucking in a pain breath through his teeth as his brother flails into his body as he narrowly escapes a rock falling onto his skull. That doesn’t however, solve the problem of said rock now blocking off the life elevator. Luther charges forward, attempting to shove debris and the gigantic chunk of concrete out of the way. The metal gate on the contraption is already bent and crushed, it might not even work even if they manage to get it.

Oh, they aren’t going to make it out of here alive.

Five feels a solemn ghost of a smile tilting upwards on his face. He squeezes his brother’s hand tightly once, looking up at him with a forlorn smile.

“I love you, Klaus.” He says over the roaring earth, not missing the way his brother’s breath hitches and his eyes widen.

Then he turns back, making his way down the rocky distorted tunnel. He steps over the debris and fallen rocks along the way, eyes straight on the chamber. Klaus is calling for him, and he hears Ben ask what he’s doing. It doesn’t matter even if they did make it out alive though. It doesn’t matter if the lift still worked even as the tunnel is slowly degrading around them. It doesn’t matter if he could get his wound stitched up fine and that this could all be a fleeting memory.

It doesn’t matter because Vanya wouldn’t be there.

He steps back into the darkness of the room, towards the huddled-up ball on the floor. She’s sitting in a curled-up position, her legs tugged up to her chest as she digs her forehead into her knees.  Five sloppily drops to his own knees with a slight thud and a shockwave of unpleasant pain. He reaches for her without a word, tugging her into his embrace, resting his cheek onto her hair.

“I-I di-didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I didn’t-“ Vanya whispers, barely being heard over the crumbling world around them.

“You didn’t. It’s fine.” Five tells her frankly, feeling her knees open up and her arms wrap around him.

“You’re here? You came back...” She says in disbelief, tightening her arms around him like if she doesn’t hold tightly enough that he will disappear.

“Yes Vanya. I’m here. I will always come back for you.”

There’s some shuffling behind him, a hand on his shoulder. So, Klaus followed him after all. Maybe Luther couldn’t dig out an entrance, or maybe the lift itself doesn’t work. Or maybe Klaus just doesn’t care enough and simply wants to stay with Five. The lights shatter above them, plunging their world into darkness.

He doesn’t even feel the harsh agony of death this time. It’s just a sweet kiss on his lips that turns his world cold as they take him into their arms.

Chapter Text

“What are you searching for, Number Five?”

“My family.”

“…Whatever for?”

Dry dirt rests under his fingernails, a swirl of crisp autumn wind. His body aches and itches in a strange mixture of strain and fire.

He feels like he’s been here before.

He has been here before. 

Several times now, in fact.

“Does anyone else see….?” comes the bewildered voice of Klaus that echoes in his ears, trailing off before the question is finished.

Five inhales, rolling over onto his back stiffly to stare up into the grey overcast above. The sky stares back down at him with an apathetic grey gaze, the cold wind sending goosebumps along his exposed skin. Nothing is working. Nothing he has tried is working. Bearing his heart, going it alone, getting the journal. Even with all this prior knowledge, it’s all futile. A failure.

It feels like some sort of purgatory. Doomed to making mistake after mistake and watch the world, and his family, fall apart every time.

Why is none of this working? He was so sure last time would be-

Is this madness? Had his father been right all along and none of this is even his reality? What if the time travel really did ruin his mind and this is the fractured madness of his own design?

He breathes, pushing himself off the ground. His siblings are all tentatively approaching, disbelief lined in their eyes as they look at him. Five’s eyes flick straight over to Klaus, who hasn’t moved from his place. His brother is looking at Five in befuddlement, as if he’s trying to parse out a puzzle without all the pieces. Five can feel his eyes narrowing on a whim at the man’s confusion, as if willing his brother to remember all their struggles and events before. The only thing he gets in return is Klaus giving him a slightly unhinged smile, his eyes shifting to the right in what can only be considered as uncomfortable bewilderment. The over-sized suit jacket immediately is flung off his shoulders, Five not in the mood to feel even more small in the clothing that seems to swallow him whole in this form.

He needs to figure this out. Now.

His pale eyes scan across his siblings, unwillingly hesitating on Diego before turning his head away. These relationships weren’t real. They didn’t exist. As far as time is concerned, the connections and, dare he even say, bonds, that he has created with some of his siblings are just pieces of ash that dissolve and slip from his fingertips.

Maybe that’s how it would always be.

Maybe there really is no future for them.

He scratches at his forehead at such a dismal and pointless thought, his jaw clenching, a sardonic smile sneering onto his lips. Unbelievable really. Five doesn’t bother talking to any of them, even when a couple murmur his name in confusion. He’s stood around looking at them like a fool for too long.

The trip to the kitchen is a familiar annoyance. His hands automatically reach for a drawer, pulling out the knife he’s used to dig into his skin and get rid of the tracker embedded into his flesh before. As he heaves out an agitated sigh, his eyes catch the glint of the metal as he moves the blade. This brings him pause. Silent, he holds up the knife eye-level, gazing back at his distorted reflection from the metal’s surface.

Five is a person of pattern. Of identifying patterns. Of seeing patterns in real life. Of utilizing patterns in his own plans.

And there has been a particular pattern developing so far, that he thinks he’s starting to understand in this strange loop of his. When he dies, the world resets. It’s as if a button is pressed and everything rewinds back to the accursed day of his father’s funeral. It’s happened the past two times. Or…was it three? Maybe even the first time when he tried to take them all into the past had ended in a failure as well.

Maybe he had failed.

Maybe, the strain of transporting all of his siblings back through time into their childhood was simply too much to bear. Maybe he perished then as well before he could complete the task.

Maybe..

Maybe maybe maybe-

Too many ‘maybes’, and yet, this certain line of thinking couldn’t be ignored. There is certainly something developing in the background of this time conundrum and what the conclusion is so far is that when he dies, he always comes back.

What if he could take this strange power into his own hands? Would this manually reset the time loop?  Could he force it himself? This could prove to be a helpful and interesting plausibility. If he is to really try and find the perfect and precise method of figuring the apocalypse and his family’s fate out, it would be helpful to have a quick way to start over. This could ensure that he would be able to explore every option, every little detail, every nuance in the plot line of their time frame.

He could even try redoing his last run, but somehow make it even better. And better. Each time he could just simply redo a timeline and change one small thing at a time, to ensure the most efficient and acceptable outcome. He wouldn’t need to wait out the days or go in blind every time. He could simply hit rewind once he’s deemed it not satisfactory enough and begin once more.

All he’d have to do is take the blade and…

But would it work?

Five isn’t a coward.  He's well aware his willingness to follow through on things far outweigh an average person, and even trumps over his own siblings with determination. His willpower is severe but even the bravest person would need to hesitate at the act of actually taking their own life if the outcome isn't certain. What if it didn’t work? His patterns, his formulas, they could be wrong. They have been wrong, at times, even though he’d prefer not to admit it. With something as important as his life at stake, that means his siblings and their lives are at stake too as he’s the only one working actively to set things in motion. There are still so many variables he just doesn’t understand. Is this about the apocalypse after all? Or is it about something he hasn’t connected the dots to yet? Is he at a point where he can take such risks?

Could he really slice his own throat in the hopes that his dead body won’t just stay there on the kitchen floor, rotting away until one of his siblings find him?

“God dammit…” he seethes in frustration, dropping the knife harshly and running a hand through his hair.

This over-sized blouse was so damn itchy, it’s like his skin is on fire. He hates not fitting in in either scenario. Too old to be young, too young to be old. Exhaling forcibly, Five turns back to the counter, picking up the knife once more. Remove the tracker, then up to change into actual fitting clothes.

Rinse. Repeat. Redo.

“What are you doing…?”

Five freezes, the knife just barely pressing into his inner wrist when the hesitant voice Klaus interrupts. He inhales through his nostrils slowly, trying to clear his head. Maybe, just maybe he shouldn’t bother to remove the tracker this time. Maybe he should just let the men come to the house, then his siblings would be forced to take Five seriously. At the same time, he didn’t want to put Vanya in unnecessary danger, being the only one of them who didn’t fight. He’s not certain he can actually count Klaus as a fighter either, but he’s more than assured the man will tussle in his own strange way as long as the other siblings are there.

At this point there isn’t any indication to him that this strange repeating cycle will stop. It might be worth a test. As soon as that stray thought crosses his mind, the doubts immediately rush back, chiding him for such a careless attitude. Time didn’t wait for anyone, and it also didn’t continue for anyone either. Who was he to assume anything in this strange limbo about how it would work?

He can’t take chances just yet, can he? This all still matters. Every step he takes, every action he does, every dangerous scenario he encounters. They all matter.

And yet…

“Five?” Klaus repeats, something strange in his voice.

Five sighs and slowly turns around, releasing the knife handle with a light clatter as he does. “Klaus.” He greets dryly.

His brother’s eyes grow a little wider, as if he hadn’t expected a response back. “It really is you! I mean-of course it’s you but…but it’s you you. You’re alive. You’re alive and that’s like-you’re alive and I’m not going mental because they all saw you too and reacted and-“ Klaus rambles breathlessly, a manic but relieved smile wobbling onto his face and he scratches his cheek in bewilderment. “It’s really you, bud?”

“Yes, it’s me.” He answers back, leaning against the counter lightly feeling drained in a way that feels familiar but not exactly describable. “Nice skirt by the way.” He compliments with a small amount of warmth in his voice though his expression remains stoic.

Klaus seems pleasantly surprised, happily swinging a tassel from the long garment he’s currently wearing. “Danke schön.” He huffs out in a prideful titter.

Five crosses his arms, peering at his brother in dull curiosity. There are heavier footsteps milling about, indicating the telltale approach of his siblings starting to follow their wayward brother inside the house. Not wanting to bother with all of them at the same time just yet, Five swipes the kitchen knife up, earning an uncertain questioning noise from Klaus. He quickly digs into the cupboards, swiping the peanut butter and grabbing the entire loaf of bread on the counter. At the last second, he backtracks fumbling for an apple as well before preparing to warp.

“Are you making a grand escape?” Klaus laughs in light disbelief. "Guess some things don't change that much huh?"

Five pauses in his trek to give his brother a searching look of intent before shifting his bundle of assorted things. “Come with me.” He requests calmly, deciding on the fly that he’s going to try something different than last time.

He doesn’t say anything else as he decides to not warp at all, walking out of the kitchen so Klaus can see he was being serious in his request. These early days are such a hassle, and Five certainly wouldn’t be surprised if Klaus simply turned tail and went to go get high in the living room or to go steal more of their father’s priceless heirlooms.

'What are you doing?? Follow him!'

“Okay okay! God I was going to anyways I was just a bit surprised that’s all!”

'Well be surprised when you’re following him!'

“Jesus what crawled up your-“

'Hurry up Klaus!'

Ben’s voice sounds somehow clearer than before, even from down the hall, which only makes Five wonder what sort of consequences these deaths are having on him. Or maybe it’s not a real issue at all. Maybe this really is his slow descent into madness and Ben’s nearing senses are simply a sign that he’s slowly rotting away.

He snorts.

As if it’d make a difference. He wouldn’t be changing any of his intentions even if that were the case.

The stairs a proving to be troublesome, and Five hates the way the outfit chafes as he lifts his heavy limbs up the multiple flights of stairs. He can hear the telltale creaks and groans of the wood meaning someone else is on the stairway behind, and the tension in his shoulders he didn’t know he was currently carrying slight dissipates. Five blindly tosses the apple behind him, a startled yell an indicator that he just smacked his brother in the face with fruit.

“I could have fallen down the stairs!” Klaus whines.

“It’s for you, don’t refuse the gift.”

“Like hell it’s a gift.” Comes the whine behind him.

Five scoffs heavily, his lips tilting into a ghost of a smile for just a moment.

“Gaawwwddd who made this stupid house. Why would anyone have these many stairsss-“his brother whines again.

And yet he still finds he doesn’t regret the decision.

Eventually the two get up to the top floor, making their way down the hall and into Five’s room. The door is shut and locked, Five setting the knife and food on his nightstand before yanking open the doors of his wardrobe. He cranes his neck back to look at Klaus who has already gotten himself comfortable on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Five clicks his teeth together lightly in exasperation as he yanks out his familiar uniform, exasperated that it’s now providing him with a slight comfort. He makes his way into the bathroom, changing with quick efficiency and giving himself a tired once-over in the mirror.

Still young. Still tired.

But still here.

Exhaling, he turns the knob, moving back out into his room. He swats at Klaus in light exasperation, getting the man to lightly shift from his lazy position so he can sit down and put on his socks and shoes. As he’s tying his laces up, the bed shifts in weight as Klaus shifts up. His brother drags his knees up casually to his chest, resting a check on one of his knees with a yawn.

He’s watching Five with those unassuming eyes but Five knows better by now.

Much better.

“So, not that I don’t looove a sleepover, but why did you want me to follow you dear brother o’ mine?” Klaus drawls, his voice slightly sloppy due to part of his mouth being obstructed by his knee.

Five tightens up the final knot, straightening up from his bend to directly face Klaus on the bed. Klaus raises an uncertain eyebrow, his olive eyes gleaming with something akin to concerned curiosity. That sort of intensity always makes him feel some sort of way he doesn’t always know how to describe, or maybe doesn’t want to acknowledge. He can feel his hands brace themselves on his thighs, lightly clenching the fabric of the shorts he’s wearing.

“Do you remember me?” he asks bluntly.

This gets Klaus to straighten from his hunched position as well, a gleam of anger striking through his eyes. The man runs his tongue along the front of his teeth before scoffing out a laugh in disbelief, itching the bottom of his chin in agitation.

“You know, everyone might call me a disaster, but I’d have to be a pretty big loser to forget my own damn brother.” Klaus grins tensely, a little giggle bouncing around the room as he stares angrily out the window. “Doesn’t really matter how long ago it was Five, I’d never forget you.”

“That’s, not what I mean.” Five objects faintly, ignoring the way his heart swoops in his chest. “Do you remember me from the times before? Do you remember the fights, or our conversations?” Five asks.

Klaus furrows his brow, looking every bit as lost as Five feels.

“The diner? Going out to breakfast?” he asks heatedly.

Klaus interrupts him with an amused shake of his head and a genuine laugh.

“Peanut butter and applesauce is still way too weird, even though it’s good it’s still-” Klaus rambles, halting his own progression with a confused blink.

He does remember. He remembers something at least.

“What? Say more. Tell me more that you remember.” Five demands quickly. "Tell me!"

“Wha-well shit-I don’t even-I don’t even know why I said that though.” His brother laughs nervously, looking Five up at down with fear in his eyes. “Like I probably just remembered from childhood or something and-“

“No! Ben told you at the time.” Five snaps in agitation. “I know he did. He’s still the only one who-“

“Whatddya mean he’s still-“ Klaus interrupts, eyes wide in surprise as Five holds up his hand to silence him.

“He’s still the only one who remembers my favorite stuff, besides maybe Vanya.”

The room is silent, heavy with the lull in conversation as they both process what was just said.

“Yeaaahh so-you’re um talking about him in present tense and that’s a bit…oh, wait shit! You probably don’t know that’s why, I mean you were like-gone and-Holy shit, I should not be the person to tell you this. I uh…” Klaus trails off cautiously, swallowing thickly as he runs a hand through his locks.

Klaus is side-eyeing where Ben is probably standing (or sitting) again, and Five is slightly surprised to know Ben is apparently sitting right beside him on the bed.

“Look um, buddy-about Ben he’s…”

“Right here.” Five says, gesturing to the empty air beside him.

“He can see me?” Ben exclaims in breathless surprise.

“No, but I can hear you.”

Another pregnant pause of silence.

“Holy shit.” Klaus grins. “What the fuck is happening?” he laughs breezily, completely flabbergasted by the sudden turn of events.

Five raises his fingers to the bridge of his nose, squeezing lightly to ward off the impending headache he can feel approaching. There’s no point in walling himself off, not when some of the key factors are already laid out on the line like this. And if he’s being honest, it’s getting pretty tiring to always have to do this first part alone.

Always alone.

“That’s a fantastic question.” He mutters in exasperation. “Wish I had a proper answer for you but…”

Eventually he straightens, opening his eyes to meet his brother’s own bewildered ones.

“…will you help me with something important, Klaus?” he asks sullenly, forgetting any pretense of trying to push away the one person who has helped him every single time he’s been here.

Klaus frowns, his eyes gleaming with that concern that seems to damn Five's emotional resistance every time. There's something about how genuine his brother's care is for him, even after all this time. Even after not seeing him for more than ten years. Even after everything Klaus has been through with his struggle with drugs and with how terrible he could be to his siblings. That raw concern for him, he doesn't understand why it's leveled towards him and he certainly doesn't know what to do with it. But...it makes him feel something, and that alone makes it feel important.

“Always.”

Always.

What a strange thing to say.

Five thinks if he asked this the first time around, that the answer would not have been the same at all. There’s something more at play here. It’s not just him being affected by these other past cycles; it might be everyone. Klaus somehow has memory of it as well, even though it seems to be much muddier than his own. The man is even behaving differently towards him, even if it’s just small and subconsciously. He should have been more alert during his previous life, maybe he might have seen some slight changes there too had he been paying attention.

“Thank you.” He says back quietly, watching how his brother’s eyes soften towards him.

And just maybe Five is changing too, regardless of which way the time is flowing.

Chapter Text

Five is writing down equations in his room when there’s a knock at the door.

“Go away.” He calls dismissively.

“But it’s your favorite brothers! ~” the muffled voice of Klaus sing-songs back.

Five puts down his pen, moving over to unlock the door and allow Klaus and Ben inside. He watches intently, trying to read his brother’s body language to see if the favor he asked of him was a success of not. All he gets is a ruffle of his hair; to which he bats the offending hand away, and a nervous laugh as Klaus puts the tips of his fingers to rest under his chin.

“Well?” he demands.

“Hey, so uhh I’m sorry kiddo. I couldn’t find anything.” Klaus says regretfully once he enters Five’s room. “The book and papers aaand all that junk I threw away in the dumpster a bit ago were just, poof!” he explains, making a pantomime with his hands. “Gone.”

Five sighs, wishing it could have just been easy for once.

“Fine. It’s fine.” He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It just isn’t an ideal scenario.”

Not like anything has been so far.

‘Do you know where it is?’ Ben asks intrigued.

“Unfortunately, yes, I do.”

He crosses his arms, closing his eyes in thought. If only they had the book. Five had been somewhat hopeful that if he asked Klaus to try and retrieve the documents immediately that there might have still been a chance that they were in there. Looks like Harold fucking Jenkins always manages to make his life more difficult.

“I need to go talk to Luther.” He mutters after a moment of contemplation.

“What? Luther?” Klaus asks in confusion, a slight hurt shining through his hazel eyes. “But-why Luther?”

He doesn’t know why that makes him feel guilty.

“I’m going to try a different approach this time. Maybe if I can get Luther on my side right from the start, this won’t be as difficult in the long run. Of course, I also need to get the book, so what better way than to tell him that dear old dad’s precious research has been stolen?” Five explains to the other, eyes turning back to his wall full of chalk equations.

“Yeah so you never actually explained though what happened in your other time warp…loop-universes or whatever.” Klaus says with curiosity.

“Klaus, there is not enough time in the world to go into that detail.” Five drones apathetically.

And truth be told he’s really not interested in explaining several accounts of failure and death.

He’s dusting off his blazer idly when he catches Klaus’s eye, both of them making eye contact for longer than what could be called normal. Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, he fully turns to stare at his brother. Klaus merely gives him a smile, but there’s something a bit sad about it.

“What?” he eventually asks.

“Ohhh nothing much really. It’s just sometimes when I look at you I can…” his brother trails off, squinting and lightly tilting his head to look at Five intently. “Sometimes I see things that might be…you? But not you? From the future-or past or, wherever you went to when you were talkin’ about the whole…other past lives things.”

Five holds out his palm, the one Klaus had been able to see even before this new timeline restart.

“You can see a deep gash through my palm?” he asks.

Klaus frowns. “Yeahhh…that among some other uh- other pretty gnarly stuff. But I can’t see it all the time, it’s almost like it’s in my peripheral vision but when I actually…” he trails off again, squinting. “And you’re covered in snow or something.” He mumbles in thought.

Snow?

“I don’t think that’s snow Klaus.”

“It might be concrete and dust.” He scoffs wryly, a scoff tumbling out of his lips. “From when the underground tunnel caved in. Huh. Interesting.”

No point in freaking out about that, it was already over and done with. Klaus apparently didn’t agree, his eyes wide with horror. He watches as his brother takes a tentative step forward, reaching out a hand but then hesitating.

“Are you okay?” his brother asks with a furrow in his brow.

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” Five drones apathetically back, raising an eyebrow.

Klaus remains silent.

“I’m going to talk to Luther now to get back the book alright?” Five nods, making his way to unlock the door once more.

A hand grabs his wrist desperately, and Five wrenches it out of the other man’s grip just as quick. He turns to give Klaus an expectant frown, not wanting to waste any time. As soon as he gets the book, then he can call everyone in to show them the damn thing. Solid concrete evidence about basically everything they have doubted him about before. Vanya, the apocalypse, so many things can be confirmed with that one journal. And he can do it all before the sun sets today.

“Yes, Klaus?” he asks in attempt to be patient.

“Can I-Can I go with you? Do you need your big bro Klaus to come along for help?” Klaus grins but it Five has been around the block more than once now to understand that his brother is absolutely desperate for the company right now.

There’s no harm in bringing Klaus. If anything, Luther might see it as a proper thing to do since Klaus was the one who trashed all of those important documents anyways. It’s only necessary that he come with and do his part to get it back. Responsibility. Sure, we’ll go with that reasoning.

“Your funeral.” Five nods in agreement while heading out the door.

Klaus takes it for what it is and immediately scrambles after him with a wide smile. It doesn’t really seem like Klaus is actually considering the consequences and Five contemplates how long Luther is going to rant about respect for once they are all in a car together. He’s going to hedge a bet on ‘longer than the car ride there and back’.

Seems like a pretty safe bet.

It isn’t difficult to find Luther once they get to the main floor. The sound of his large heavy footsteps is easy enough to hear, and they meet him in the middle of a hall to the sitting room. Luther seems surprised at the duo approaching him, but straightens up once he realizes he can finally get some answers.

“Five, there you are.” Luther greets with a furrow in his brow, ignoring Klaus altogether. “I’d like an explanation about what happened. It’s been-”

“That will have to wait, Luther because our dear old man’s information is at stake at the moment.” Five greets casually.

He claps a hand on Klaus’ shoulder causing his brother to giggle nervously in response. Clearly the man hadn’t thought through the entire scenario as now he is in prime position for the blame game.

“Dearest Number Four here accidentally might have thrown away some very important documents, including dad’s ever so important journal. His manifesto. Surely you must have seen it before. Red. Small initials on the front.”

Luther doesn't take the admission well, his thunderous expression turning onto the perpetrator at hand. “ Klaus! ” he takes a threatening step towards the man. “Of all days for you to pull this, your selfish - “

Five’s hand tightens on his nervous brother’s shoulder before putting his hand out to the tallest brother in order to silence him. “Luther, while I understand that you cannot help but be emotionally compromised the moment the old man is brought up, the longer you rant about respect, the more time the person who stole dad’s documents has to get away.”

“What!?” Luther exclaims back.

“The longer we wait, the less time we have!” Five barks back in annoyance, patience thinning.

 “You’re telling me someone purposefully stole our father’s documentation?” The eldest brother frowns, a furrow deep set in his brow.

“From the dumpster! ” Klaus emphasizes with preposterous laugh.

“That is exactly what I am saying.” Five nods.

There’s a second of silence before Luther shoves past the two moving quickly in the direction of the front door. “Why didn't you lead with that!? We need to hurry!”

“I thought context might be important. Of course I should have known better.” Five sighs, giving Klaus a couple casual pats on the shoulder before turning to face the tallest brother. “You’re going the wrong way; we need the car. I already know where the thief is.”

Heavy footsteps stop. Luther turns back to Five with a curious stare.

“You do.” Luther mutters in disbelief.

“I do.”

“Right. Of course you do…But then why-”

This is where this run can change. Getting Luther on his side from the beginning might in the long run, help keep Vanya safe. Of course, the truth will always devastate Luther in some way, and Five has no intention of hiding that truth from him anymore. At the very least though, he will be there to mitigate the damage when Luther’s world comes crumbling down around him.

“We need you. Obviously, it would look a bit, strange, if we tried to get the belongings back. I am unfortunately stuck in the body of a child.”

“And of course, no one could possibly take Klaus seriously.” Luther nods seriously. “I see.”

Klaus frowns, giving a derisive sniff in response but doesn’t say anything back.

“Klaus is actually the one who had the idea to come straight to you. He knew this could be potentially dangerous, and if anyone has diplomatic skills for this situation, it would be you.” Five explains confidently, crossing his arms.

He’s not really sure why he’s defending his brother, it really is the idiot’s fault in the first place. Klaus doesn’t seem to understand either as he peers curiously at his brother, remaining strangely silent. Five watches with perceptive eyes as Luther gives another minute nod, more to himself. It’s clear they already swayed him into helping with a couple of compliments.

“You always knew how to push buttons Five, even the right ones when you really needed to.” Ben laughs lightly at his side.

“Well. I can’t say I’m happy about this Klaus. You had no right to go through dad’s things, but at the very least you told me and owned up to this responsibility.”

It’s a good outcome.

“So, where to then, Five?”

He smirks. “I’ll drive.”

And that’s how all three are currently crammed into the car with Five at the wheel, Luther hunched up in front, and Klaus lounging in the back. Catching Leonard Peabody in the act will be an interesting turn of events. He knows at this point the man retreats back to his little shop in the city after stealing the documents and wonders if it’s agony to the man to not immediately just close shop and obsessively read every page. He supposes even murderers need to keep some sort of routine.

He would know.

“When we get there, you guys can stay in the car.” Luther says, trying to shift awkwardly in his seat which is about as effective as a sardine packed in a can trying to move. “I can handle getting the situation under control.”

“No thanks.” Five mutters.

“Yeah Luther, I wanna see the consequences of my actions. ” Klaus breezily replies back. “It’s a good learning opportunity for us!”

There’s a silence indicating Luther is unimpressed by their responses.

“Klaus does have a point. It might be good to show how you handle the situation like this diplomatically.”

“Is that what you really think?” Luther asks, turning to stare hard at Five. “You guys consider me the leader in this situation? Of this team?”

Luther is sizing them up, perhaps curious on how they feel about being a true team again. If that could be a thing that’s possible for their family. It’s clear that’s what Luther wants. Maybe the man is hopeful if they are looking to him for direction, that it’s a sign that they want to carry on their father’s legacy and remain a team.

This beginning mindset isn’t the issue though. It’s after the floor disappears under the man’s feet, once he learns about the futility of most of his life that gets to be unpredictable and dangerous.

Five bites his tongue, trying to prevent himself from biting back at the man. Leader. Sure. As if they could even be considered a team. It’s hard to hold back his biting words, wanting to knock the man down a peg but he remains silent for a moment as he figures out his next statement.

“I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t think you would be ideal for this scenario.” Is what he comes up with in the end.

“Yeah, you’re our ever so fearless leadeeerrr.” Klaus confirms with a drawl, flopping down on his back and propping his legs up on the side of the interior.

Even though the statement holds clear lack of sincerity from Klaus, Luther seems to take both of their answers seriously. He nods to himself again, satisfied, turning to look out the window.

“How much longer?” Luther demands.

“Not much. I’ll park on the same street.”

“Can you imagine if we got pulled over right now?” Klaus suddenly asks with a bark of laughter. “Oh man, the look on the officer’s face would be priceless.”

“It’s not Five’s fault he’s the only one that can drive.” Ben says, a smirk clear in his voice. “Maybe not legally but, he’s the best bet to actually keep us on the road. I doubt Luther has much experience. He probably drives like a grandmother.”

Five snorts, earning a curious look from Luther.

“Hey, I have my driver’s license.” Klaus mumbles sheepishly.

“Good for you...?” Luther says in confusion, but doesn’t ask why Klaus didn’t offer to drive.

The fact that Luther trusted him to drive, a boy for all the other man knows, shows just how deep the lack of faith in Klaus is.

It’s a bit irksome if he’s being honest.

“Of which you can’t use.”

Ah yes, Klaus likely got his revoked with many drugged escapades of that Five is certain.

He manages to park the car on the side of the road, just a couple shops behind Leonard’s. Five quickly exits the car, shutting the door as he gazes down the sidewalk to eye up the woodshop. He doesn’t know why it evokes such a strong range of emotions, even now. It was just one time. One scenario in his life. He’s been through much worse, much much worse in the course of his life, which is why it’s so exasperating for him to fear even an ounce of trepidation.

“Let’s go.” He calls to his brothers exiting the car.

Luther keeps his head hunched as they walk, trying to somehow seem smaller in the streets as people pass by. It’s not effective, but it’s also the city, and there are plenty of strange sights to see every day. Luther is hardly a standout in this case.

“Is this it?” Luther asks, the three of them standing in front of the building.

Five eyes the storefront with impassive eyes. “Yes. The man that stole the documentation is inside. He runs the shoppe. This was an intentional thievery Luther, keep this in mind.” He says, wanting his brother to understand the motive.

“I’ll get back dad’s things, you don’t have to worry.”

He isn’t.

Luther opens the door first, the leader within him automatically shining through even as the man has to awkwardly duck and shimmy through the door frame. Five forces his stiff limbs to move in after, but a hand on his arm gives him pause. He turns to see Klaus gazing uncertainly into the store, his hand tightening on Five’s arm.

“Klaus?” Five questions softly than he wanted.

“You good, shorty?” Klaus murmurs back to him, his hazel eyes quickly turning his attention onto Five.

“Are you ?” Five shoots back with a light narrow of his eyes.

This is different. There is some sort of clear leak through this time from the times before. Klaus doesn’t seem to retain all of the past memories, but even subconsciously it’s clear that some things have remained. He should have realized it before. There were sentences said, little specific things that happened before this cycle that had been too coincidental to not be some sort of time bleed. Five had been too distracted to pay any proper attention to them, but this time it’s finally becoming more prevalent.

He’d need to look into this later.

“Yeah! Yeah I’m good I just-I don’t know.” Klaus laughs, but his eyes are shining with uncertainty.

“You don’t need to come in Klaus, just stand watch or something.” Five reassures him before forcing himself to not do the same and lightly plucking the man’s hand off of his arm.

He needs to see things through, emotions get too much in the way.

“ No! ” Klaus shouts, the sudden intensity causing Five to look at him with unguarded alarm. Klaus laughs awkwardly to shake it off, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, no no no I mean, I’m coming with of course. It’s all just peachy keen little brother! Besides, Luther will be just, heartbroken if we don’t take notes at his compelling lecture.” Klaus sighs dramatically.

Five stares at him intently for a moment, trying to get a read on what’s churning through his brother’s mind. He can understand maybe, in his own personal way, but things also need to be done and Five can’t miss out on the scenario. He needs to ensure the book is reclaimed.

With a parting glance, he mutters a “Right.” and enters the small furniture store.

God, he hates this place.

It isn’t a small area by any means, but with all of the antique furniture taking up space, it feels cramped and suffocating. Its smells like, must, wood, and lacquer. His hands clench into fists, and he forcibly clasps them behind his back in an effort to look precisely maintained. His pale eyes narrow in on the man Luther is talking with, Harold Jenkins or rather at the moment, Leonard Peabody, fully coming into view as he steps further into the store.

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t think I know what you’re talking about. I’ve been working all day you see.” The man in question says, smiling in confusion.

He certainly plays a very convincing fool, doesn’t he?

“We know you have it, one of my siblings saw you take it. Please don’t lie Mr. Peabody, that book is very important to me. Our father has passed.” Luther says evenly, playing the balance between formal and emotional perfectly. “I’m sure you can understand this simple mistake.”

They must have already made their “introductions” when him and Klaus were outside.

“Actually, I don’t think I understand. Why were you throwing something out if you didn’t want to get rid of it?”

“As I said, it was unintentional.”

Leonard smiles sympathetically up at Luther, one hand resting casually at his work table. “I am very sorry for your loss, I saw it in the newspaper, but I assure you I don’t have what you’re looking for.”

“You know very well who we are Mr. Peabody, so lying is not in your best interest.” Five interrupts, a shark-like grin rising onto his mouth.

He can feel the anger simmering along his bones, wanting to eat him alive just at a single glance of the man. His hands clasp tighter behind his back. The accused turns his attention over, eyes widening lightly at the sight of Five. Five tenses as the man’s dark eyes slowly look him up and down, feeling awkwardly exposed. He knows it’s because of the uniform. The knowledge the man has of The Umbrella Academy means Leonard is well aware that Five apparently hasn’t aged a day, but it doesn’t make him feel any less preyed on.

Leonard gives a slightly mystified smile towards him, his eyes sparking with something dark and dangerous for the smallest second before it’s already gone. If Five wasn’t already aware of what sort of person Leonard was, it would have been nearly impossible to spot.

“You said he already knows who we all are?” Ben asks in light bewilderment.

Five shakes his head imperceptibly, indicating they can continue that line of conversation later. He wants to be present for this.

Klaus steps ahead and in front of him, wanting to properly get in on the discussion, which blocks Five off slightly from the view of Peabody. It’s exasperating. He’s about to move forward when Klaus’s hand discreetly presses against his chest. His brother’s attention is still on Leonard, pretending to listen, but his hand gives a subtle pressure against Five before it drops to not draw attention.

It was a clear warning from his brother to not try it again.

He is bewildered at this turn of events, and the grim expression he spies on Klaus is not helping. There’s a thought to just move to the other side to get a better view, but something keeps him rooted in place. He doesn’t want to completely disregard his sibling’s warning, but what the hell, he isn’t actually a child.

Well, that is not fair to say and he knows it. He is well aware that Klaus doesn’t consider him a little kid that can’t understand adult conversations. He just doesn’t get this sudden surge of intensity from the other man.

“Mr. Peabody!” Luther snaps, alerting Five to the man’s thinning patience. “I have already said there was a witness. So you can either tell me where you are keeping my father’s possessions and give them willingly, or I will take them from you…I would rather I not have to take them from you.”

“Sir, you are threatening me at my own business and I haven’t even done anything! I don’t know who you might have mixed me up with, but I-I will call the cops if you continue.” Leonard threatens weakly, taking a step back further into his little work nook. “Please don’t hurt me, I really don’t have what you want!”

Luther turns to look down at Five with a frustrating glance and it’s apparent in his eyes that the doubt is starting to already sink in. Luther has fallen for this man’s deceit in minutes, it’s no wonder Vanya was lured in by this man. This man with deception and manipulation running through every pore. This man with dark eyes that are bland and unassuming that hold a darkness that is unnatural. This man that believes that he is entitled to justice on all of them, because of the actions of their old man.

Five gazes at Luther intensely, not backing down on this. He knows the book is here, it’s really just a matter of what way they wanted to get it. Diego had said the book was located on the crime scene in a previous life, so maybe Five would just grab it himself and they skip the pleasantries.

He glances around the shop, knowing Leonard wouldn’t simply just leave it laying around the room. No, it will be either in some sort of drawer or bag, hidden from plain view. It’s clear the man wanted full discretion the first time around, so it would only make sense that during the day he would have hidden it somewhere. His eyes fall to the floor initially, but the ground is concrete. He eyes several of the wardrobes, the cabinets, and storage units in the store, but even that seems flimsy. If a customer came in and wanted to look inside, or even purchase the item, it would be strange to hide the journal inside the actual furniture.

He hums in thought, turning to eye the small door on the side of the room. The room where he had been held hostage in could be an interesting theory. He recalls it had been very small. There had only really been enough room to fit him and one other person in there.

He moves across the room, hand reaching for the knob.

“E-Excuse me! Don’t open that please.” Leonard interrupts, holding up a hand as his brothers both turn to see what he’s doing.

“I’m an interested customer.” Five sneers, hand rotating on the knob and shoving the door open.

The room is compact, incredibly small. There are two chairs shoved inside, and a couple of boxes that are resting on some high shelves that contain tools. There’s also a broom, and some paint brushes for sealing the wood and painting. Looks like it’s really just a storage room for some extra work tools that Leonard doesn’t want on his regular table out in the main area.

His eyes narrow, putting a hand to his chin in thought as he scans the shelves again in curiosity.

There’s a red toolbox on one of the shelves that looks to be older than the others resting beside it. It’s made of metal and has some rusted parts on it due to age. Five yanks one of the chairs over to him; it looks uncomfortably familiar, and crawls on top of it. Once he manages to stand on top of it, he’s able to click open the latches on the toolbox. The metal lid opens with a rusty squeak of its hinges.

He isn’t surprised to find more red staring right back at him from within the toolbox.

With a satisfied cluck of his teeth, he grabs the very thing they are all looking for and hops off the chair. He doesn’t even make it out of the room before Leonard is standing in front of him. The man freezes once he sees Five holding the journal, a flash of anger thrumming through his expression before it dims into resignation.

Five grins at him tensely, shoving past him with plenty of force to cause the man to stumble. He holds up the book in presentation at his two siblings, raising an eyebrow in expectancy. Luther’s eyes widen, a small smile on his face as he moves towards Five, accepting the journal from him with a relieved breath. But his brother’s expression turns stony in an instant, eyes hardening as he stares back up to the lying owner.

“You could be arrested for stealing.”

Leonard frowns sheepishly. “Is it stealing if it was willingly thrown away? It doesn’t belong to you if you’re the ones that got rid of it. You threw it in the dumpster! I-I just knew that it was too important to be simply left there as garbage.”

Luther swallows thickly. “And how did you know that? Why did you want it?” he presses, moving towards the man with anger in his eyes.

This gives Leonard pause. Five watches in interest as Klaus joins at his side, noticing the way the man’s breath begins to speedup. Yes, why did he want the journal? What could he possibly say without giving away such terrible motives?

“I-I’m sorry.” Leonard eventually says, looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry I lied. I-I just couldn’t help myself. I’ve just been…” he trails off, staring up at Luther before swiveling his gaze back to Klaus and then landing on Five. “-your biggest fan for so long.”

Oh.

There’s an awkward pause before Luther shifts in discomfort. “Oh, so you were, a fan…of The Umbrella Academy.”

“Yes. I-when I saw Number Four over there throw away some stuff, I just couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry, please don’t report me, I-I promise I won’t ever do something like that again.” He weakly pleads, his hands fidgeting as he looks back up at Luther.

“W-Well…it’s only natural to be a fan of The Umbrella Academy. There was good work done there. We helped a lot of people.” Luther says, clearing his throat.

Five wants to groan. Of course Luther would find solace in these empty compliments. Of course the man would let someone that stole precious information off the hook because it was the work of a super fan. Sure, of course, fine.

They got the journal and that’s all that matters.

He crosses his arms in agitation, tapping a foot on the concrete floor which snaps Luther out of his hesitancy and back into his leader position.

“I’ll let you off this time, but if you ever do this again, know that you might not be as lucky as you were today. And if you ever try and steal from my family again, it will not go as nicely as it did this time.” Luther says sternly, the warning from his lips a certified promise for the future.

Leonard nods several times in mortified apology. “I am so sorry...I-I never wanted to meet under these circumstances. I feel so ashamed.”

“Well, maybe this lesson alone will make you understand the consequences of your actions. ” Luther simply tucks the journal into his coat pocket, giving it a safe pat before beginning to make his way out of the shop. “Alright, let’s go.”

Five watches Luther exit and Klaus follow before he turns back to Leonard. “Harold Jenkins.” he announces quietly so only the man could hear.

He stares in wicked delight as the other tenses immediately at the name. Five eyes him up with apathy, wondering if he could get a quick punch in before leaving. It’s only deserved after everything. The man fully faces him and that dark expression is back, a sneer churning on his lips.

“I knew there was something very special about you.” Harold murmurs with restrained anger, and it takes a small portion of his control to not recoil in disgust at the sentence. “How do you know that name?” he demands in a near-whisper.

Enough of this small talk.

He really can't help himself, and Five lunges forward to grab the the front of the man’s shirt harshly, jerking him once to indicate the severity of his intent.

“If you go near my family, any of my family, we’re going to have a problem. And I assure you, it will be a lot worse than what my brother has threatened you with.” he hisses. “Do you understand that Harold Jenkins? Don’t go near my family. Ever . Again. ” 

He releases the man harshly, relishing the horror-filled expression on the man’s face at having his true self revealed. Five turns, trying to be satisfied with the encounter. He almost runs straight into Klaus’ chest. He glances up, watching how his brother swivels his gaze from Harold back down to him.

“What is uh…” Klaus trails off, moving to stand beside his brother so he can put his arm around Five’s shoulders. “What was that all about? I mean-not that like- mind that you almost beat the shit out of him but like-” he asks, guiding Five to turn so they can both make their way out of the store. 

“I was simply reminding him of his place Klaus.” Five says wryly. "He shouldn’t be a problem anymore.” he assures before jerking his shoulders out of his brother's grip.

He doesn't know why but he doesn't want anyone touching him right now. His hands seem to be trembling, and he doesn't understand why.

“I just uh-wasn’t really cool with how he was looking at you before.”

“Seriously, what a creep.”

Five pauses, halting in his steps. “Oh, is that why? I thought perhaps you had remembered something else.”

“Huh?” Klaus stops, looking down at him in confusion. “Remember? I’ve never met the guy.”

“Well. Not in this lifetime.” Five explains lightly. “But he actually killed me in one of them and you were there for a bit of it so I thought that...”

Klaus is staring at him passively, his expression unreadable which causes his words to trail off. It’s actually a bit unnerving not being able to read his brother’s face at all, as he usually wears it right on his sleeve. Five frowns.

“Oh, is that right?” is all his brother says blandly in return, fiddling awkwardly with some of the rings on his fingers. “Well in that case-”

And then, as if a switch is flicked, Klaus whirls around with a snarl on his face. Five watches in shock as his brother’s arm winds back and sucker punches Harold right between the eyes with a ferocity he has never once seen on his brother.

Harold goes down hard.

Klaus knocked the man out cold with one punch. 

"Fuck yeah." Ben mutters with vicious satisfaction.

Five doesn’t know what to feel. He feels vindicated, but also angry, but also bewildered. He can’t help but stare blankly at Harold’s prone form on the floor. Why had Klaus even done that in the first place? This timeline doesn’t affect any other timeline..but, if only Klaus had been there the first time, then maybe none of that would have had to happen and he could have-but why should that matter? What Harold fucking Jenkins had done to him was peanuts in comparison to some of the missions he has been on. Some of the stuff that he had to do at his job for the Time Commission had been so much worse.

So why was this one so hard to understand? Why was he still so-

“Hey, darlin’, don’t look at him.” Klaus orders firmly, startling him out of his thoughts. “Come on.”

But-

He doesn't even register the absurd nickname, still reeling from the shock at the sheer malice in Klaus' actions.

It just, isn't like him.

The hand returns, resting gently on his back. The touch grounds him, leading him not only out of the store, but out of the whirlwind of chaotic thoughts that never seem to be satisfied.

"Luther will be mad if he saw that stupid stunt you pulled." Five sighs, the breath coming out more shaky than intended as he turns to look back into the store. "You know that might get us in trouble with the law and that's just another complication we don't need Klaus. Why would-"

A hand softly guides his jaw back to stare at the front.

"You know what? If he saw it, somehow I don't think he's gunna mind juuust this once."

Chapter Text

Five sits on one of the chairs in the sitting room, resting his chin on his palm as he watches Luther shift uncomfortably under his gaze across from him on the couch.

“Just read it Luther.” He orders in light exasperation.

“Five, it’s not my place.” Luther refutes with a shake of his head. “It’s not anyone’s place.”

The journal rests on the sitting room table between them.

“He’s dead Luther. Don’t you think as next of kin you should be privy to this information?” Five reasons lightly, trying to convince the man to read the truths for himself.

The statement brings the other pause, the man’s gaze shifting uncomfortably back down to the journal. “I should just return it to Pogo. Dad’s things are important, and even now, we should respect his privacy and thoughts.” Luther says softly. “Besides, we need to scatter his ashes soon.”

Five refuses to rub his temples. He’s doing his best to keep his composure and temper low when talking to his stubborn rock of a brother, but Luther always makes it difficult for him. He thinks back to his brother’s motivations, his uncertainties, his responses the others times their dad’s death has been brought up.

“His death.” Five starts on a thread of promise. “There could be information in there about that. I know you think there’s something more to this, don’t you? You think there’s a lot more.”

Luther’s conflicted face shows just how true the statement is.

“Where would I even start?” Luther grimaces, looking lost.

“From the beginning probably.” He drawls back.

It’s not a good feeling, knowing that he is leading his sibling into what will essentially be heartbreak and betrayal of the highest caliber. Luther’s entire life has been dedicated to their monster of a father, and here Five is, willingly allowing the other to have their entire world crash down around him. He does have regret, but it’s very little in comparison to his desire to see things through.

And if there’s a possibility that he can help be a buffer to Luther’s devastation, maybe he can get the other on his side without Vanya or anyone else having to suffer the consequences. Luther is always too much of an unknown factor in these scenarios, and if there is a chance that Five can understand how to help him, then it only benefits everyone in the run.

Besides, no matter how much it hurts, Luther deserves the truth.

He watches with keen eyes as his brother takes up the journal, wondering if he should give the man a warning before the first page is even read. Five hasn’t read everything inside, but even the excerpts from his time at Harold Jenkins’ shop were so cold and analytical and needlessly cruel. Their father clearly had no love for them in his heart, and considered his children no more than his pawns on a chessboard than actual children.

“Luther.” Five calls to him somberly as the man begins to open the book. “I am perhaps…ah-never mind. Just read.” He stumbles, catching on the apology awkwardly lodged in his throat and abandoning the sentiment.

He was never good at expressing himself this way.

Luther’s eyebrows furrow in concern. “You know what? Maybe the journal should wait.” He says after a moment, placing the book back down onto the table. “You never actually explained to me what’s going on Five. How are you back? What happened?”

He supposes he walked into that one, didn’t he?

“Look. I’ve already been here. A couple of times.” Five explains bitter, rubbing his forehead lightly with two of his fingers. “Time travel was a crap shoot, and I’m actually in my fifties, believe it or not. Now I’m back, and the details don’t matter about how I did it, but the reason I’m here is to stop the apocalypse from happening.” He paraphrases sloppily, wondering how many times he’d have to try and give even a small amount of context for the situation.

Luther’s stare is slowly growing cautious and guarded in concern, and Five knows that look to be disbelief.

“Luther, I know how it sounds.” He snaps in tired exasperation. “I’m really not in the mood to explain everything that has happened, but I can guarantee you that in that damn journal, there will be something about the apocalypse or the old man’s death or-something that will align with my story.”

“Five…” Luther starts cautiously.

“I have little patience for this.” He announces to the room, snatching the book off of the table.

“Hey!” Luther exclaims, watching in alarm as Five flips rapidly through the pages. “Put that back, that’s not your- “

“I don’t care if it’s in my right or not!” he barks back. “The man is dead and there is information in here that is very important. Information you need to understand and know so you can move on with your life, Luther!”

“What do you mean, move on with my life?”

Five scoffs lightly “He wasn’t a good man.”

“Don’t say that.” Luther warns.

“He wasn’t, and in here, you’re going to read things about him that are more twisted than you ever could imagine and that’s why I am…” he trails off. “I am-regretful, that you need to see this, because it’s not necessarily your fault. You’re just a victim of circumstance.” He explains, thinking back to Luther’s grief in the underground tunnel.

“A victim of cir-Five what are you talking about?” Luther asks in frustration, clenching his thighs lightly.

Five ignores him, quickly paraphrasing through Reginald’s excerpts to find the cold truths of Luther’s wasted time on the moon.

“Give me the book, Five.” Luther orders.

He ignores him, skimming the words at a rapid pace around the general timeline of when his brother was irrevocably changed for the rest of his life. He flips through a couple more entries, clenching his jaw as Luther stands up from the couch.

“Hand it over!” Luther orders sternly.

He pauses on an entry, silently speed-reading through a portion of it.

‘I’ve sent Number One away.

‘Looking at him was like staring down the devil of my failures. His purposes for which he initially served me could no longer be utilized because of how unfortunately monstrous his visage had become. The moon should provide him with enough purpose to make him never question his mission, but keep him far enough away so I may- ‘

Five pauses, rereading the first part of the passage three times before exhaling deeply through his nostrils. He hands over the book in disappointed resignation, staring angrily at the table in silence. Luther’s large hand swipes the book back, but it’s still open to the specific page Five had read.

“Read it, Luther.” He says looking up at the man.

It isn’t fair.

He doesn’t know why he has sympathy for his sibling now. Maybe it’s because now Five understands that Luther is just another victim in the long line of his siblings. Ever since the tunnel incident, it’s difficult not to see him in a new light, to not feel pity for the man who has given his everything to his father only for it to mean nothing in the end. Their cruel father who gave the smallest scraps of acknowledgement to keep them begging and trying their hardest for more of it.

“Read it.” He insists again.

It isn’t fair, but it’s what needs to be done for so many reasons.

Some might say it would be better to spare Luther’s feelings of his father, to let the man keep this ideal version of the man and the truth buried. Five knows though that Luther will never truly move on or think for himself unless he realizes the harsh reality of who their father truly is as a person.

And the realty is their ‘father’ was a monster too.

Just like him.

But the key difference between them is that he actually loves his siblings.

And poor Luther, the man never stood a chance. No matter how much he claimed to want to respect their father’s privacy, Five watches his eyes immediately swivel down to the page. He watches Luther greedily take in the page, so desperate to know what was behind their old man’s eyes and judgmental glances. He watches Luther nervously shift his weight and inhale as he begins to read the passage that will inevitably break and shatter his entire life. He watches Luther’s entire world fall apart just from a couple words on a page.

Luther pauses, his entire body going still as if he’s stopped moving in time altogether. “What is this?” he whispers in disbelief.

“The truth.” Five responds, his voice soft in pity.

The other says nothing in response, looking at Five as if he’s never seen him before. There’s an urgency as Luther looks back down to the journal. Large fingers turn the page, and then another, and another. Luther starts skimming with a desperation, his breath picking up in speed as he continues to get bits and pieces of toxic sludge in the form of their father’s words that burn into his heart.

“No. No no no…” the large brother whispers to himself, looking wildly around the room before he sets off with grim determination in his heavy steps.

Five stands up from his seat with the intent on following his brother, but Luther stays in the same room and moves into a crouch closer to the corner. He remains silent, watching his brother scan the floor as if looking for something.

“What- “Five tries but is interrupted by Luther’s frantic tearing of a loose floorboard, throwing away the plank of wood he just ripped out with little care.

As Five approaches, he gets a better glimpse of what in the hollowed-out hole of the floor. Packages. Hundreds of them it looks like. Each perfectly uniformed in stark white, sealed. His heartbeat picks up and promptly cracks when he hears his sibling whimper in what can only be described as a true heartbreak.

One of Luther’s hands reaches out, pulling out a package and looking down at it with an unseeing glance.

His brother is quiet, sagging fully to his knees from his crouched position. “These are mine…All of them. My logs and recordings about the moon. My experiments, my research, my-my letters. They’re all mine.”

Five doesn’t know what to say.

“They-none of them have been opened.” Luther whispers, letting the package simple slip out of his grip and back into the pile of unopened nothings that their father didn’t even pretend to care about.

“Luther…” Five tries again, but is rendered speechless when his brother looks up at him with devastation in his eyes.

“None of them are opened, Five.” Luther repeats. “The seals haven’t been touched.”

His lips tighten, not knowing what to say. Nothing would make this immediately okay. Luther is going to need to take a long time trying to get over this, the truest betrayal he will ever have in his life. Five feels like he somehow made an error in judgement even though logically, this needed to happen.

But did it?

What was all of this really for? Luther didn’t need to be like the rest of them. Broken, maybe beyond repair in certain aspects. Was he truly so desperate to get Luther to be on their level and side that he had to break the man to do it? Was the truth always worth the agony in the end?

Of course he needs to say yes, his values of being rational and logical say yes.

But everything else in him is screaming no, that there had to be another way. That this should not have been done by his actions.

“Four years? I was up there, for four years of my life…for nothing?” his brother asks to the room, numbly glancing around before looking back down to the pit of packages.

A grimace makes his way onto his mouth at the concept of all that wasted time, and he moves closer to stand by his hunched brother. His hand gently rests on the man’s shoulder for a moment, feeling the shuddering movement of grief under his fingers as a choked sob fumbles itself out of Luther’s mouth.

“This just can’t be right, Five.” Luther breathes, his voice cracking in grief.

“I am sorry Luther.” Is all he can say, because he is sorry, he just isn’t sorry enough to put the world at stake.

Everything he’s doing is for them in the first place.

His hand slips off as Luther moves back into a standing position. He blinks and suddenly there is a vice grip on both of his shoulders, squeezing harshly that makes his bones cry and seize in pain. Luther is clutching him either like a lifeline or like he’s the sole reason for all of his pain, and Five cannot differentiate which choice it is through the sudden whiplash of angry physicality.

“Luther!” he barks, clenching his jaw and swallowing back a wince when his back is slammed up against the wall, a mere doll in Luther’s large grip.

“Why did you show me this!?” Luther shouts desperately. “You are always making everything so hard for me Five, you have always been this way!” his brother screams in his face, slamming him against the wall again for emphasis.

“Hey, what the fuck!” Diego’s voice shouts from the entryway and Five takes the distraction to warp out of Luther’s angry grip.

“Were you happy up on the moon Luther?” Five bites back as he whirls around to stare his brother in the eye. “Do you really think I showed you the truth to make you suffer? It’s the truth! You can’t blame me for the actions of him.”

“It’s not just about the moon!” Luther shouts back raggedly, his voice echoing throughout the room. “Everything I’ve ever done, I have done for him! Everything!” he cries, holding his head in his head, frantically whirling away from Five. “How can I ever live with myself knowing that my entire life has been for nothing!?”

“What the hell is happening.” Diego asks, moving further into the room with caution to stand beside Five. “What’s going on man?” he asks to Luther directly, body coiled in anticipation and ready for a fight. “Finally realize that dad didn’t love you or somethin’?” Diego snarks, his joke falling flat when he starts to read the room.

Luther freezes in his frantic pacing, going absolutely still. His body slackens and his face goes blank, looking up at the ceiling as if searching for answers he knows he will never get.

“I guess so.” Luther says, a sad laugh falling from his chest. “Yeah, that is what I’m starting to get.” He laughs, a long tear trailing down his cheek as he stares up to the heavens knowing there’d be no answer from Reginald up above.

With an agonized yell, Luther whirls around and punches the nearest wall. Splinters and wood fly everywhere, the shelves all collapsing around the new hole in the wall. Porcelain breaks, and artifacts fall onto the floor with little care, the loud crashes signifying the cracks in their family and the newly formed holes in Luther’s heart.

The silence is deafening.

There’s a presence on his other side and when Five looks, it’s Klaus smiling nervously at the new indent in the wall. The noise must have alerted him. Five turns to look at the doorway and Luther’s breakdown has alerted more than just Diego and Klaus. Allison is watching from the doorway, a hand on her mouth as Luther gently slips back to his knees in gentle weeping. She steps further into the room, making a beeline for the fallen sibling and Vanya is revealed to be standing behind her. Five watches Vanya edge into the room, but remain near the entrance in trepidation.

He should have known better than to think this wouldn't somehow catch everyone's attention eventually.

“Luther-what’s going on?” Allison approaches gently, worry in her dark eyes as she reaches their hunched over brother. “What’s wrong?”

But Luther doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything. He simply buries his head in his hands.

Five makes eye contact with Klaus, which only earns him a sad smile back. At some point, probably every sibling had thought about Luther finally opening his eyes to seeing the truth, but the grief their brother is expressing is as if their dad died all over again. Maybe in a way this was the true death of Reginald in Luther’s eyes. Even when the old man had perished, Luther still had purpose, some sort of mystery to solve. But now, his father was just a lie, a remnant of something that was never true to begin with. A memory that was remembered wrong.

Only the sounds of Luther’s heartfelt weeping fill the room and it doesn’t seem like it will be stopping at any point soon.

“Young Masters.” A gentle voice rings out to all of them.

Pogo stands at the entrance, his cane in one hand and their father’s urn in the other.

“I am sorry to interrupt during this trying moment, but we must scatter the ashes.” The elder primate announces to them softy. “It looks to rain soon.”

Maybe Pogo doesn’t think anything of this scene because they are already dysfunctional. Maybe the other only sees a grieving Luther in the context that he is grieving because their father is dead. Luther was the only one that truly cared after all. Five swivels his gaze back to Luther, who slowly removes his hands from his face to stare at Pogo. A slow and angry resentment grows in his eyes and he moves to his feet faster than expected.

Allison calls for him as Luther stalks quickly over to Pogo, eyes thunderous in rage.

“Yes, let’s scatter them.” Luther announces them with a grim determination, something dangerous and wild in his eyes.

Pogo doesn’t have the reflexes to back away before the urn is already wrenched out of his feeble grip. Some of the siblings shout in exclamation and Diego prepares to jump at Luther from the corner of Five’s eyes. But Luther moves away from Pogo, clutching their father’s urn to his chest with a scowl.

“Luther wait, whatever is going on just- “Allison tries, holding a hand out to him.

She’s immediately cut off by Luther shouting in rage. With a windup, he whirls around and hurls the urn. It shoots through the air with ungodly force and speed, smashing through the tall window with a deafening shatter. Pieces of glass litter the floor as the entire window crumbles.

There is only silence besides the heaving breaths of Luther’s all-encompassing emotions that fill up the room like a suffocating poison.

Five stares blankly at the scattered glass and feels like it is a fitting metaphor in the worst of ways.

Chapter Text

Luther’s gone.

Five stares at the broken glass for too long, thoughts swirling around his mind taking up space in dark corners that he refuses to look into.

“What did you say to him?” Allison breaks the silence, unable to keep the accusatory tone out of her voice.

It breaks the train of thought and he grimaces, looking over to Allison with weary eyes. “He read Reginald’s journal. Unfortunately, the old man’s words aren’t very kind, even on paper.” he smirks tightly, tossing the book in question onto the coffee table with a flop.

“Welp, I’d say that went as about as good as it could have, huh? Don’t you think?” Klaus announces, stretching out his arms with a wide yawn.

“No…n-no that…that’s not funny.” Vanya says softly, her voice genuine in her concern about their grieving brother. “He shouldn’t be alone.”

Five agrees. When Luther is upset, he is unpredictable at best and at his worst? Best not to think about it, but the broken window is a good enough indication. He straightens his tie, a sigh tumbling out of his mouth as he makes his way towards the entrance of the room.

“You may have a point.” He mutters.

Allison intercepts his path, looking at Five with the same accusatory stare that was in her speaking tone moments before. “No, I think you’ve done more than enough.”

“Don’t blame me for the old man’s attitude and words.” Five warns. “What would you have me do, Allison? Keep the truth from him for the rest of his life? Don’t be such a coward.” He scoffs. “Regardless of how cruel it is, it’s still the truth. Now maybe he can get on with his life.”

His sister shakes her head. “Sometimes Five, the truth is much worse than living a lie. This could ruin him!”

Diego’s scoff echoes around the room. “Some real ironic words comin’ from you, sis.” The brother says with a blank smile. “Seeing as how that’s how you live your entire life, ain’t that right? Well, don’t drag everyone else down in your little fantasy world too just because Five has some honesty, even if it’s brutal, unlike you.”

Five glances between Allison and Diego with wary pale eyes, knowing Diego is aiming and firing at all of the weak points to push her buttons. Clearly the other is looking for a fight. Allison stares at the brother in question with hard dark eyes, never once wavering in her hateful stare.

“Fuck you, Diego. You would never understand what it’s like to be in my shoes.” She says with a clench of her jaw, levelling him with a look of steel before exiting the room.

“Probably not- “Diego agrees with a casual nod, running rugged fingers down the sides of his mouth. “Seein’ as how I actually work for everything I earn!!” he shouts towards the hall.

Five rolls his eyes, levelling his gaze onto the next person in the room he wanted to converse with. “Vanya.” He announces, earning a life of his sister’s head towards his direction. “May we have a conversation?” he asks, earning the interest of the other two siblings in the room.

Vanya gives him a tentative smile, her brown eyes softening at his request. “Of course, Five I…I’d love to talk.” She agrees.

He would too, but unfortunately this conversation isn’t just a simple catchup. This time, he’s going to show her the truth while they have it so early. Vanya didn’t need to be afraid of her powers, and just like Luther, she deserves the truth. The pain will lessen, but living in a world of fabrication would always stay that way unless someone finally opened her eyes.

A brief part of him wonders if he needs to spend more time on Luther still. Even though their first brother knows the truth now, Luther’s worst trait is letting his emotions run him. In such a giant body, he is a very real threat to seriously harming someone from lashing out. But in the same aspect, things were different now. Five is already aware of what lies beneath the mansion, he’s already aware of Luther’s grief and how he can talk through it.

“Ooo yes let’s catch up-“Klaus scratches his cheek, moving towards the couches to flop onto one of them. “Count me in!”

Diego looks over to the two with a level of disdain, crossing his arms. “Right, gossip, catch up have fun, I’ll go and actually do something productive unlike you clowns.”

“Yeah Diego, do go and get our dear dad’s scattered ashes. I’m sure the old man will reaallly appreciate it!” Klaus’ amused voice rings from his sprawled-out position on the couch.

Ben sighs beside him.

Five levels Diego with a stare, watching the other man clench his jaw before storming out of the room. Apparently, the remark was a little more accurate than Diego had expected. The other had never been anything but predictable though, in Five’s personal opinion.

He watches Diego go before gesturing Vanya to the free couch. She sits, looking a little perplexed as Five moves to the seat across from her where Klaus is currently lounging. He uses his foot to lightly kick his brother’s legs, earning a laugh from Klaus before his brother obliges and moves his feet. Five sits in the newly freed space next to his comfy curled up brother.

He exhales through his nostrils. This will be an interesting conversation.

Placing his stiffly on his thighs, he regards Vanya with quiet countenance, wondering how to start it off. Eventually, he leans forward to grab the journal he threw there minutes before.

“Vanya, I have something to discuss with you. Something that will seem rather outrageous, but nonetheless true.” He starts, holding up a quick hand. “All I ask, is that you take time to consider my words.”

“Five? What’s this about?” she asks cautiously, wringing her hands lightly. “I-you just came back I don’t really know anything that’s going on.”

“I will get to that.” He reassures her, flipping through pages of the journal. “As you know, I’ve come back from a different time. I know certain things in the future that will happen, I know things that have been kept a secret for a long time.” He explains, holding up the red journal to hold her attention. “I’m well aware you know what this is. It’s the old man’s journal from his study. Basically, the old man’s diary of sorts.” He grins ironically but it quickly falls back into his mask of stoicism. “He has quite a myriad of things he’s hidden from us. Especially about you.”

Vanya is tense, stiff in the face of his blunt words. “I…don’t know what- “

“You take medication, for your…condition, yes?” he interrupts, flipping through the pages.

An awkward silence, Klaus remove his arm lazily draped over his face to peek at Five’s flippant search through Reginald’s journal.

‘Five, you’re…wording this a bit…’ Ben’s voice approaches cautiously.

“Yes, I do. I-I have anxiety.” Vanya eventually responds, breaking the supposed silence, her brow furrowing in confusion. “But why is that- I mean, why do you- “

“It’s all in the book Vanya. It’s why it’s important we have this discussion.” Five sighs, leaning back in his seat. “Listen to me, very carefully.” He says, leaning forward to stare into her dark eyes. “You, Vanya, have powers, just like all of us.”

Another awkward silence, the tensions thicker than the previous lapse. Klaus is fully engaged now, eying Five before turning to gauge Vanya’s reaction. Five can spot him from his peripheral move from his sprawled out position up into something that resembles sitting.

“Five that’s...that’s not funny. I don’t know if-”

“Do you think I’d joke about such a thing Vanya?” he drawls back with an irked tone. “Of course not. I don’t joke.”

This seems to upset his sister more. Vanya shifts in her seat, her hands gripping at her jeans before releasing the fabric in an effort to control herself. “Why would you even say something like that-wh-what’s going on? You’ve been gone for so long Five and now you’re just here, and you’re saying things that are…that are just…” she trails off, giving him a similar look from before when she had so wrongly accused him of trauma and projecting. “They don’t make any sense.”

“I’m telling you this because you need to know.” He insists, closing the journal with a loud snap. “Here. You can have it. Read whatever you like. You know that book Vanya, you’ve seen it plenty before, we all have.” The red journal is outstretched towards her, the hue standing out against the browns and dull tones of the room.

“I don’t-understand.” Vanya stammers.

“You don’t have to, but you need to know. You deserve the truth.”

There’s no point in trying to hide information anymore. This time he’s just laying it all on the table, with proof. Just like Luther, Vanya deserves the full extent of the truth, no matter how much it will hurt her. He isn’t worried about her moods causing an apocalypse, she’s still on her medication, and he can encourage her to embrace her power instead of fear it. It’s not her fault that Reginald wanted to stifle a power he was afraid of. Their father always seems to simply contain things once he felt he couldn’t work with them as if they were a failed experiment instead of just children.

She does eventually take the book from his hand, looking at him uncertainly before sitting back down to stare at the offending cover. “I don’t know if I believe you.” She says softly, earning a half-hearted scoff from him.

“Believe what you want. I’m certain you’ll get there eventually now that all the information is there. You can’t call me crazy when the proof is in the ink.”

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps clicking on the wood draws their attention towards the entrance. Allison storms in looking around the room before her eyes land on Five with frustration, her lips tightening as she regards the three.

“Luther isn’t anywhere to be found in the mansion!” she exclaims. “I’ve checked everywhere and- “

Klaus sighs loudly. “Oh relaaax Allison, maybe he just went to let off a little steam! The big guy deserves it.”

“No Klaus!” Allison retorts back at him angrily, her hand flinging upwards to emphasis her point. “He’s gone and with the state he’s in right now? The last thing he should be doing is being out alone in public!”

“Why, are you nervous he’s gunna embarrass our good ole’ family name?” Klaus grins. “The one you don’t hold?”

Allison clearly has had enough of the flippant casual behavior. “I’m worried, Klaus! God, you are such an asshole. All of you are.”

Five pinches the bridge of his nose tightly, closing his eyes to stave off the impending headache he always seems to get whenever more than one sibling is in the room at a time. He looks to an uncertain Vanya, then over to the carefree Klaus with a grimace. Unfortunately, Allison is right, Luther really shouldn’t be out and about the town in such a state. He’s learned more than a couple times now that the man doesn’t do well with facing his emotions without a very physical outlet.

“As far as I recall you didn’t want my assistance.” Five points out lightly as he gets up from his seat.

Him and Allison hold their stare at each other from across the room. She eventually shakes her head with a scoff of disbelief, as if she’s somehow above the situation she herself created.

“I didn’t think he’d actually leave the house like this. We should split up- “

“Not that I don’t feel for the guy, but if he’s somewhere in the city do you realllllly think we’re going to find him?” Klaus sighs.

Allison throws her hands up in the air. “It’s not like he exactly blends in Klaus!” she exclaims in frustration. “God you’re all so selfish- “

Selfish? What a laugh.

“Enough with your dramatics!” Five snaps, glaring up at his sister. “Don’t talk to me about selfish, you all are absolutely incompetent when it comes to thinking about anyone else but yourself!  I’m not going to give you a gold star for finally being considerate of someone else, Allison.” He ends it off, anger in his eyes burning.

He moves back around to Vanya, holding out his hand in expectant patience. “I’ll be taking that back. Clearly now isn’t the time.”

The last thing he needs is to let that book out of his sight.

Vanya looks up at Five’s face with visible confusion, opening her mouth before closing it again. In the end she doesn’t question him, placing Reginald’s journal into his open palm with a nod. Apparently, whatever she saw in his face was enough to make her not question it. She rubs her fingers along the fabric of her jeans several times before she gets up from the couch.

“I can help look.” Vanya offers to Allison tentatively.

Allison with her pursed lips and crossed arms seems to soften at the offer. “Well-thank you Vanya…it’s nice to see that someone cares.”

Fives rolls his eyes, tucking the journal within his inner blazer pocket. He pays Allison no mind as he passes her, moving out of the room. There’s a sound of scrambling, a couple of heavy thuds before Klaus’ familiar presence manifests behind him.

“I uh-I’ll join you in a bit.” Klaus says, earning a pause from Five-a turn of his head to peer back at him.

He had just assumed…

“A bit?” he turns with a raise of his eyebrow.

Klaus scratches his cheek, clearing his throat awkwardly as he shifts on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, a little bit, just uh-do some stuff, you know?”

‘Klaus…’ Ben sighs in weary disappointment.

Five’s eyes narrow in agitation, knowing full well what his brother is alluding to. “No. Can’t say that I do.” he bites out, continuing his path towards the entrance.

“A-w-wait look! It’s better if we split up anyways right? I mean cover more ground and all that! I’ll catch up with you later, promise!”

“Do what you want, Klaus.” Five replies apathetically, trying to not feel offended or worse for his brother choosing his drug addiction over him.

This is why emotional baggage is dangerous.

This is all new territory. The ashes were never poorly scattered. Ben’s statue is still intact. He has the journal. The best thing he can do now is to make sure Luther doesn’t hurt himself or anyone else in his grief, and then, Vanya. Maybe he shouldn’t have rushed into another problem before fully making sure the first one was taken care of, but he’s going to cut himself a bit of slack just this once. He merely had been trying to be efficient and quick. Luther’s emotions were a side piece, something he shouldn’t bother with. The man’s grief shouldn’t be on his itinerary to placate or fix it.

And yet, here he is opening the door to do just that.

Five stares up at the weeping sky, watching passively as the raindrops fall and splatter onto the cement. He peeks back inside, grabbing a black umbrella from the stand near the door. His father always did have a stupid number of umbrellas stashed around every corner.

With a tired sigh he opens the umbrella. The rain patters loudly upon its surface as he walks, sounding loud in his ears. His feet walk along the wet pavement, eyes scanning for any large silhouette he might see.

Luther surely could not have gone far.

It’s late afternoon, not yet evening. The man is self-conscious to a fault, not wanting to show off his massive frame to any of the public. Then again, he supposes Luther might be in such a state of devastation that not even that matters anymore.

It’d be ideal to find his wayward sibling before evening falls.

Something nags at him in the back of his mind. Why does that matter? Why-

The tracker.

His steps halt and immediately turn around. He had not removed the tracker yet. Unbelievable. Klaus had interrupted him and then everything sped up from there. Five completely had forgotten to remove it during his early discussion to Klaus and all the new developments that have formed since.

He slips through the alley next to the mansion, planning on just going through the side door and straight into the kitchen to grab a knife. The fewer eyes for this part the better. As he is about to open the door, the sound of muffled voices catches his ears. He softens his steps and presses up to the wall. The voices are female, softly chatting amongst themselves and easy to identify as Vanya and Allison. They’re likely discussing where to search for Luther.

He doesn’t want to bother with a menial conversation there. If he grabs a knife in front of Vanya or Allison he doesn’t want to know what they will think of his mental state, and honestly he just doesn’t have time for that.

With an annoyed sigh he closes the umbrella, eying the tip of it in thought. He’s cut his skin open with Diego’s dagger, this isn’t any different really. Just a hassle. He braces his arm on the parked car, a sense of déjà vu hitting him as he aims the sharp ferrule of the umbrella towards his inner wrist.

Before he can pierce skin there’s an alarmed shout of his name.

Five jerks his head towards the sound, eying Klaus staring at him wide-eyed in the alley. Oh, of course Klaus would be in the damned alley.

“What are you doing!?” Klaus yells at him, already soaked through because of the rain, blinking owlishly through the rainwater dripping down his hair.

“It’s a tracker- “he starts calmly, but Klaus is already there gripping part of the umbrella, as if to take it from him.

Like he’s a damn kid running with scissors.

He jerks it back stubbornly, but Klaus doesn’t let go of it. “Klaus…” he starts with forced patience. “There is a tracker in my arm, because agents from the- “

“Yeah you know I’ve been on board for most of this but I’m not going to just watch you stab yourself with an umbrella.” his brother laughs, hand tightening around the item.

Five looks up at the falling rain, heaving a sigh before he looks back over to meet his worried sibling’s eyes.

“Your concern is-appreciated, but ultimately not necessary.”

“Oh! Well I think there’s some necessity! Just a little bit!”

He gives a stretched smile knowing his eyes are pinched in irritation. “Fine. I won’t do it with this.” He obliges, releasing his hand from the umbrella and making his way over to the door.

Five pushes open the door, ignoring his sisters who have suddenly stopped talking as he moves into the kitchen. He pulls open the drawer with unnecessary force, gripping the familiar blade.

“Five…?” Vanya asks hesitantly.

“Yes, Vanya?” he replies casually.

She doesn’t reply. He can feel his sibling’s eyes watching him, alert and curious. As soon as he expertly twirls around the knife to plunge downwards at his skin, chaos ensues as the girls shout in alarm. Klaus also comes bursting into the room, his clumsy footsteps fast approaching.

“It’s a tracker!” he shouts at them in annoyance. “It’s embedded into my skin and unless- “

“Oh my god, Five!” Vanya exclaims in worried alarm.

“Put that down!”

He does not put it down. He in fact, lowers it and-

Klaus yanks his wrist with the knife away and he loses grip on it. The knife clangs to the ground with a metallic thud, echoing along the walls. He stares at it on the ground for a moment, a blank expression on his face as the anger slowly boils.

“Are you kidding me Klaus!?” Five shouts at him in vexation, a wince falling onto his brother’s expression from his yell.

"Wait I'm sure we can all work this out..." Ben tries to appease but it's ineffective when only two of the four people can hear him.

“What were you thinking!?” Allison shouts in worried alarm. She moves over to pick up the kitchen knife from the floor, examining it with a grave expression. “Five, what the hell?” she asks, flicking her dark eyes over to him.

“Why the hell are you all shouting in here!” Diego’s voice booms into the kitchen, angry stomps making his presence known as he peers into the room.

Five closes his eyes in resignation.

The car…right, it had still been parked in the alleyway. Five drags his free hand down his face. Because, of course! Everything must be difficult in his life. In new areas where he has progressed in this timeline, he’s now being held back at different places that hadn’t provided resistance before. Strange. Potentially concerning.

“It’s really not what you think.” He mutters grimly. “There’s this- “

“You’ve been through so much.” Vanya says to him softly, the concern overflowing in her eyes.

He knows that concern though. It’s misplaced. She thinks him mad. Mentally unsound. He doesn’t want it anymore. Allison looks at Vanya before looking back to Five as if considering him for the first time. Her eyes soften as she takes in his clothing and youthful face, those maternal instincts once again coming into play. He doesn't want that either.

What an annoying combination.

Shit.

Chapter Text

Irritated eyes take in the familiar figures boring holes into his skin, all staring at him in various states of distress and confusion.

Why now, of all times, do they have to actually care?

"You know, I seem to have a lot of time on my hands these days. Too much really." he quickly turns, yanking open the drawer once more to search for another knife. "And yet, it's still not enough to deal with all of this bullsh-" Klaus wraps his arms around him from behind, causing him to pause, eyes squinting. "Klaus."

Five initially thinks its just some poor attempt at hug until his brother begins physically trying to drag him backwards, as if he's actually a child who shouldn't be around sharp objects.

The rest of his patience fizzles away with fire, his temper spiking all over again. Hands latch onto his brother's wrists in a punishing grip and Five shoves them above him to duck under his hold and out. It isn't as if Klaus really tries to fight back.
His gaze lands back onto Allison. It's the only warning she gets before a flash of blue illuminates the kitchen and his fingers suddenly digging into her wrist. He forcefully tugs the knife out of her grip and warps out of the room with confused exclamations from his siblings behind him.

Stupid stupid stupid. They're all so stupid, and he's even more stupid for wasting more than one second trying to explain it to them.

He's about to trudge back up stairs to the solace of his room when the shattering of glass breaks the silence. Eyes flick around the scene quickly, eying the window that's just been broken by the entrance, and then over to the bullet that's now lodged into the wood of the upper wall.

They're here already.

"That's a brave introduction." he muses to himself.

Diego is the first to follow the source of the sound, running in just to take in the scene. The conclusion he comes up with is to glare at Five.

"What did you do?" his idiot of a brother accuses.

"Use your brain, would you Diego?" Five says, stepping even further away from the broken window.

It's about to get loud in here.

Suddenly, the door to their house is smashed down with a deafening crack as its forcibly wrenched from its hinges. Five stares down the men in black filtering through the house, Diego's shouts of alarm a fitting background noise.

"You're getting a bit more adventurous." he greets to the Commission squad. "But what about that professionalism you're always talking about? Someone is going to have to pay for that window, you know." he advises lightly, earning nothing but a stoic silence from any of them.

There's movement in the corner of his eye. The rest of the siblings have likely filtered in to follow the ruckus as well.

Eventually the leader steps up, the only one who ever bothered to communicate with him before. "Number Five, you need to come with us. Let's do this the right way."

"Why?" Diego interrupts immediately. "What'd he do?" his hand is already shifted to one of his blades, body coiled with anticipation.

The man looks at Diego for only a second, but Five takes the opportunity to warp through them all and beyond, to the outside streets. His feet land on pavement, and Five immediately sets off into a sprint, wanting to put distance between them all. Vanya is inside that building, he can't risk her getting caught in the crossfire. They must have found him quicker given he was in one place for longer. Gunshots flood his ears and he swears under his breath, disappearing into another warp. He reappears around a building this time, some proper cover. Five peaks around the corner boldly, back to where the guards shot to see the bullet holes within the ground.

"Huh..."

It feels different this time. They're more aggressive. Shooting into public, shooting him without much a thought. He hadn't even maimed any of them yet.

Why?

Regardless, they're chasing after him down the sidewalk, and not fighting his siblings. That's fine then. As much as their presence would prove the existence about the tracker, it's not worth the danger. Really, this is enough proof. The more people there are, the more a stray bullet could be a death sentence.

One of the men lifts his gun and Five quickly ducks back around the corner, moving to take off down the cramped alleyway between the two buildings. He's taken them down in an alley before, he'll do it again. Sharp eyes flick around the immediate surroundings. There's not much. A large dumpster, some trash, a fire escape. Maybe he should take the high ground before they get here. His gaze scans, stuttering and looking back when there seems to be something moving behind the dumpster. His feet redirect, quickly moving towards that moving lump instead.

The gunfire that had his ears ringing is gone now, and replaced with quiet crying. It's an all too familiar voice. His shoes splash in the puddles from the previous rain, taking in the figure curled in on themselves in this cramped corridor.

It's his brother.

"Luther?" he says, anticipation growing at the unfortunate positioning, looking back down towards the fading light of the alleyway entrance. "Luther, you can't be here-"

They'll be here any moment.

His brother hadn't run far at all, apparently finding the darkest spot that might provide him some isolation to feel what he needs to. The leader turns his face up, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. He looks the smallest Five has ever seen him and yet...his body is simply still far too big to hide.

"Just go, Five. I just need-I don't know. I don't know what I need." Luther rasps, tucking his forehead back down to rest onto his curled-up knees. "Can you just go? I needed to get out-but I just-people started staring and-"

"Number Five!" a voice echoes.

Fuck.

Five turns to stare down the man with a gun raised his way, the distance between them seeming endless.

He sighs. "Look, I don't-"

A trigger is pulled.

A tight sound is forced from his lips as fiery pain bursts through his shoulder and down his limbs, tripping backwards on his feet.

They, shot him?

They actually shot him.

His hand moves up to immediately press at his shoulder with gritted teeth, the shock of their boldness this time around throwing his mind upside down.

"Five!" his brother's shock is irrelevant noise in the back.

Five looks up, warping up onto the building's roof. His feet stagger to regain his balance, removing his hand to observe his bloody palm in disbelief.

No time.

He runs, feet propelling him along the top of the building. He's not running away from them though, he's running towards them. When he reaches the ledge there's no hesitation and Five jumps off.

There's no fear of falling. Not when he has a target to fall onto.

His heels slam into the guard's shoulders, sending him to the ground. Five snatches the man's gun with a grin, moving into a tumbling roll and raising the new weapon he's acquired. One goes down after getting shot in the head, the numbing muscle memory of battle overtaking his limbs.

Shouting. Gunshots. Pain. None of it matters other than to complete his task.

Five warps again, appearing on the sidewalk. He raises his gun, but the guard in front of him is already falling onto the hard pavement.

Diego stands in the place of the fallen man, two more blades still in his hand at the ready. So his brother had followed.

"Guns." he says quickly before disappearing once more.

"No shit!" his snarling brother gripes.

"Hey!" booms a different voice in the chaos.

Many turn to see the cause of commotion.

Luther.

The man is sprinting down the long corridor like a raging bull, nostrils flared. His frame looks positively gigantic within the cramped walls, only growing larger and larger as he gets near. But the distraction doesn't serve to give Five any time, as the leader keeps his eyes on the true target. Now there's a giant target on all of them.

Dammit Luther!

Five warps. The rusted metal groans under his feet as he adjusts his aim from atop the fire escape to the man raising their guns towards his gigantic sibling.

His finger steadies on the trigger.

No time is wasted firing his gun, the sound of shots echoing around the small space, bullets sinking into all of them. The men are simply the equivalent of mere target practice at this point. He's already desensitized to the violence, watching passively as the bodies all drop onto the pavement as his shots land true.

Blood slowly spreads in a pool around them. Diego peeks out from around the corner, staring down at the bodies wordlessly before looking up to Five on the fire escape. He ignores those dark eyes, not wanting to see the wariness there, the caution. As he drags himself down the ladder, he frowns watching Luther slowly approach, looking lost. Five tosses the gun away, now useless to him as the job is finished.

"They were going to kill me." he says to the both as he approaches, finding some way to absolve a guilty conscience.

If one exists, anyways.

Diego's jaw is clenched. "You got shot?"

Five rolls his shoulders with a grimace. "Didn't think they'd be so brazen." he admits. "They usually aren't. It's fine."

"How many of these guys have been chasing you?" Diego asks in disbelief.

"Are you guys okay?" Luther interjects the two as he nears, growing quiet as he stares at the pile of corpses as well.

He nods. "Just these ones, for the most part." his eyes flick towards the bodies in assessment.

One, two, three, four-

Yep. And five. It's about time he got it right.

But he didn't, did he? The fifth one had never gotten shot.

The last is still breathing.

And just as he realizes that, the man hoists himself up, pulling a side pistol from his holster. It feels like the scene is moving in slow motion as Five wills his body to move. It's always that last one isn't it? He never learns his lesson. Somehow it's always the same.

A gunshot pierces the air.

He feels no pain.

"NO!" Diego ragged screams bounces off the walls, already lunging for the last guard.

He feels no pain.

Luther's large form suddenly slumps, toppling to the side. With a sudden burst of horrific understanding, Five lunges to try and catch him. It's a useless attempt, an inevitable fall from the both of them as his brother's form is simply too big. His small arms attempt to grip around Luther's torso all the same as his knees scrape against the wet concrete.

"Luther!" his brother's name is forced form his mouth unbidden.

The air is forcefully gripped and ripped from his lungs as a bullet wound in Luther's forehead leaks crimson.

Horror.

He feels no pain, because the bullet wasn't meant for him.

Even though he was the target, Luther had been shot. The man chose to shoot Luther, the man with a monstrous body. The man who is the size of a beast. The man who likes board games and fairy lights. The man who doesn't have a brain in his head but has the biggest heart, even if it's dedicated to the wrong people. Five is the actual monster, but Luther was shot because fear is the ultimate motivator.

A child or a giant beast?

The light is already gone from his brother's eyes. So quickly. So sudden. Luther died before he even hit the ground. No fanfare. No heroic sacrifice. No nothing. How could it happen like this? No. Luther can't actually be taken down by a gunshot. That's impossible. His brother is-

Invincible?

But those red-rimmed eyes are empty, glazed over in nothingness. None of them are safe from this. Even with all their powers, their skills, they're human. They bleed like everyone else. Anyone could be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

All because of a-

Mistake?

No, a miscalculation.

No...a mistake. An actual mistake.

Did he get his brother, killed?

A rush of different actions and methods he could have taken suddenly swam his mind like frantic insects. His mind screams. What could have been. What should have been. His own words to Luther. The possibilities of how this could have been avoided. Five's hands suddenly pull away from Luther's limp form, stumbling up to his feet as he stares blankly down at his brother's empty eyes.

"Is he alive!?" Diego shouts, scrambling over to Luther's body in a crouch, hands poised over their brother but unable to touch. "L-Luther! Bro-get up."

Five can't stop staring, mind now suddenly blank from all of the equations and numbers in his head. Diego's stuttering grows worse.

He killed his brother.

Fix the problem.
Fix the problem.
Fix the problem.

It's on repeat. Find the solution. Fix the problem. But what is the solution to death?! His eyes land on one of the guns on the ground, stained in the puddles of blood. His feet move. Diego begins shouting. He stares down at the weapon. It's the only potential out he has. If he dies, the loop will reset. A death other than his own is unacceptable.

It's unacceptable.

"Five?" Diego's raspy voice questions in confusion as the gun is picked up.

Five hesitates.

"Don't look, Diego." he orders softly.

"W-What?"

"Don't look!" he commands more firmly, mouth feeling dry.

As he inspects the weapon, the doubt begins to creep in. What if it doesn't reset? What if there are variables that need to be met? What if he can't manually reset it? What if there are a set amount of loops? What if Luther-

What if Luther will still be dead when he comes out on the other side?

"FIVE!"

"Sorry." he says to his brother, lifting the gun to his head. "I'll see you soon."

It's a risk he has to take, isn't it? Everything he's doing is for them.

Diego shoves himself to his feet, screaming as he lunges at his brother.

Five pulls the trigger.

It all goes dark.

Chapter Text

Dry dirt rests under his fingernails, a swirl of crisp autumn wind. His body burns and burns and burns, cold sweat upon his brow. Never before has he been so relieved to experience this sickening sense of déjà vu.

He’s back.

He’s back and the events of before hit him like a fist in the stomach, painful and agonizing.

But the hope earnestly swelling within his stomach remains tampered, forcefully shut until he can see that the mistakes have been fixed in front of him.

“Five?” Klaus questions, concern and bewilderment trailing through the air.

The boy shoves himself up onto his knees supported by trembling arms, looking up to the siblings that stand before him. The anticipation is agony, the weight of his own errors crushing him into the dirt. Never before had he considered someone else would meet their end on his behalf. Never before had he truly been that frightened. Never.

Five desperately tracks his gaze along the group in front of him and the person he’s looking for is...

He's right there, as if it’s that simple. Luther’s strong and colossal frame is the first to stand out, so grand in stature, so large that he's impossible to miss. The relief that runs through him is enough for his very breath to come out in a shuddering exhale even as his chest tightens.

Luther.

Luther is alive.

He fixed it.

His feet dig into the mud, slipping sloppily as he shoves himself up onto his feet. There’s not enough air in his chest. He’s already winded with exertion as he stumbles forward, chest only getting tighter and tighter the closer he gets to his brother.

Before anyone can get a word out, he’s reaching with a small hand. Fingertips press against Luther’s chest, feeling the strong and sturdy heartbeat immediately under his palm.

Alive.

Alive alive alive.

“Um…” the leader says awkwardly, eying the rest of the siblings before looking back down at Five.  Whatever he sees in Five softens his eyes. “Number-“

Luther doesn’t get the full name out before Five rears back his fist and cracks it against the man’s jaw. Pain spirals down his fist and up his elbow like lightning, reminding him that he essentially just punched a brick. The colourful shouts and sounds of alarm from his siblings do nothing but fuel him to lunge for Luther again, the cinders burning in his chest gleaming through his eyes and gritted teeth.

“You bastard-” He seethes even as Diego grabs him around the waist. “I ought to kill you myself for going down like that! Don't you ever do that again!” he spits feral and ragged, burning burning burning and unhinged. "Ever!"

It feels like he’s been lit on fire, the burning in his chest so hot that it's surging through his skin, melting him away. None of what he's saying makes sense to them in this timeline, of course he knows that-and yet he spews out his anger anyways. Like lava running down an erupting volcano, inevitable and flowing.

"What-?" Luther can only stammer in confusion, rubbing his cheek as if Five's small fist possibly did more than give a light sting.

His hands clench to Luther's coat desperately, white-knuckled and holding so tight that it's painful even as Diego is attempting to dislodge him from his bullheaded brother. The corners of his vision are warping, and the flames in his chest only burn brighter.

It's hard to breathe.

"What's wrong with him?" Allison: concerned that Five is mentally unwell and a danger.

"Five-" Vanya: stammering, concerned about his actual wellbeing.

"Let go you little-" Diego: exasperated, alarmed.

"Excuse-moi,  Diego, oh brother o'mine."

Klaus.

Painted nails creep into his blurry vision and Five watches as one gently grips at his own white-knuckled hand.

Klaus.

"Heeeeey honey bunny." the man's thumb smooths gently over the back of his hand's shaking form, stroking. "It's okay, yeah? Everything's alllll peachy keen here."

Something punches out of his mouth, pained and tight, hands only trembling harder at the strain he's putting on them.

He can't let go. It's not okay. It's not, he could have ruined this all. Him. As if he was some sort of-some sort of fucking amateur. What would have happened if he blew out his brains and didn't wake up? What if there was nothing beyond that and in the end he- Heat pricks at his eyes and he finally releases his trembling hands, jerking violently away from all of the touches upon him in a way to try and get a hold of himself.

“Get off me.” he snaps unfairly at them all.

His own hands rip and tear furiously at the suit jacket swallowing him whole-everything feels like a livewire on his skin.

It's too much and it's not enough. It's not fucking enough.

The world is a mess of grey and leaves and blood and he can taste the smoke in his mouth and-

The world lurches, he lurches with it. Palms and knees drag against the dirt. A chorus of exclamations. Someone reaches out for him. He pushes back up to his feet, blindly shoving past and into the house while his hand claws at his chest. Nails catch on skin and drags long pink streaks down torn flesh, even though the white of the oversized blouse.

Into the house. Blink up the stairs. Stifling clothes off. Academy outfit on. A routine that shouldn’t be a routine.

Ash is falling from the rafters. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. He's out of the bedroom but trips over his own feet. A hand moves out to brace himself onto the railing, one of his knees slamming against the hardwood.

“Five!”

No. No, he wants nothing to do with them right now.

For some reason when he tries to push himself back to his feet, his body refuses, only tensing before it sags back down. He stares at the warped hardwood, sweat beading on his forehead. Colours are draining, dragging in a swirl. His eyes flutter, feeling light-headed as he presses a hand to his chest again.

Why-

“Hey.” a giant hand grips at his shoulder, too gentle for such a massive palm but he flinches against it anyways-weak. “Hey...” Luther says again, even softer this time, worried. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

Just hearing the warm timbre of his brother’s voice suddenly dislodges something in his chest and Five gasps in an inhale, harsh and painful. His throat catches and chokes on his own air, he bends forward in on himself, unable to look the other in the face.

“Hey! Easy-easy Five.”

Hands keep him upright, solid and steady. Always steady, always persevering. Five reaches out blindly with his free hand to grip at the lapel of Luther’s coat again, choking in another gasp for air. That stupid grey coat that doesn't cover his brother's muscular form at all. The other hand is still gripping the banister viciously, nails scratching down the old wood as he stares wide eyed at nothing.

“Don’t touch me.” he chokes out, but his trembling hand is still clutching that stupid, soft, coat like it's the only thing keeping him grounded, and if he stopped to think just a little more about it, it probably is.

Luther doesn’t listen, hands tightening just a fraction, protective, concerned. “Look it’s okay, whatever it is we’ll figure it out.” Five needs to resist the urge to sink into that cocoon, needs to fight it kicking and screaming.

There's nothing to figure out. Five already figured it out, actually, when he manually reset with a gun. So, there's nothing to figure out. Nothing.

So why can't he breathe?

He tips bit further into that large embrace, a strangled sound dragging itself out painfully of his throat, as if its had to crawl from the very depths of his vocal chords.

His hand at Luther’s coat snaps itself up to Luther’s shoulder for support, fingers digging painfully into that thick skin. Using the man’s frame, he clumsily shoves himself up to his feet and warps through his brother.

“Five, wait!”

He doesn’t. He runs.

Runs for the fire escape he had gotten so used to using as a kid, thundering back into the room, wrenching the window up, and slipping right through the frame like a second nature-as if nothing has changed at all. The metallic clambering of his clumsy feet pierce his ears harshly, too loud, too violent as he touches down upon the fire escape. His arms shake as he begins to climb down the ladder, hand slipping off one of the rungs. Feet tangle, his body drops, and it’s only due to muscle memory that he catches himself from smashing onto the pavement, the wrenching burn in his shoulder as he interrupts his gravity.

Petrichor is already thick in the air as thunder rumbles from afar.

Fives presses forward in a daze, the sky only turning darker as he continues down the street. Forward. Forward. Forward. He needs to continue, desperation only growing thicker with each step. The world blurs in and out of focus, but he continues to stumble on.

Where is he going?

He comes back to himself as his hand presses harshly against a door, stepping inside to the wide expanse of a department store. Familiar. The air is stale, fluorescent lights causing him to wince even as his feet continue to rapidly press towards an unknown destination. Five licks his lips, tasting earth and death upon them.

The aisles seem endless, rows of colour and shapes that cause his pounding head no relief.

Then-

She’s there.

She’s right there.

Standing the tallest out of them all, right in the middle of the mannequins. Those beautiful bright eyes and perfect pink lips. The only one who had seen him at his lowest, who has been with him during the hardest times.

She’s simply, perfect.

He never wanted to intrude on her peace, not when she was so busy doing her own thing, living her own life with her friends. But even so, his feet led him here, and now seeing her in person makes him feel like he might not completely shatter apart under the weight of his own ineptitude.

“Delores.” Five whispers shakily.

She’s even more beautiful like this, whole and together, standing on long endless legs. It never mattered to him if she had missing limbs though, that wasn’t what their relationship was built upon. Transfixed, Five quickly climbs upon the shortest white podium, rudely shoving her friend aside that had been standing on it. He tenderly embraces her, arms slotting around the divot above her hips like the piece to a missing puzzle. He shudders back a shaky exhale seeing the glimmer in her eyes.

“Hey…” he murmurs softly. “I-I know...” it's apologetic, they had chosen to part ways but-

She seems amused, but her eyes are concerned. The emotions are bubbling up in his throat and he swallows them down-continues to swallow them down. Delores was always good like that, always so concerned for him even when she didn’t need to be.

Even when he didn’t deserve it.

“Um-kid?” a woman calls to him, interrupting their reunion. He turns to look at her, glaring at her tired brown eyes that are a mixture of exasperation and concern. The clashing layers she’s wearing is somehow a dead giveaway that she works here. “You need to get down from there-”

“Can it, lady.” he snaps back on instinct, arms tightening around the familiarity of his special other.

Before she can say another word, Five tips forward into a warp, coming out the other end in the drizzling rain upon the street with Delores in tow. She laughs, and Five can't help but grin in return. It's a little difficult to carry her today, she's gained some weight. It's good, it means she's comfortable, eating well, healthy.

It means she isn't starving-isn't struggling.

“What do you say?” he breathes, still stifling down the overwhelming surge of something that’s trying to bubble up and overflow. "A turn about the town? Just-just for old time's sake." he asks warmly, trying to hide the desperation in his trembling voice by smiling down at her.

His eyes slip shut in relief when she agrees.

Chapter Text

Hand in hand, fingers intertwined, Five and Delores walk and talk.

Delores does most of the talking this time around, filling him in on the things she’s been up to. She has a lot of friends, and Five tries to burn away the ache of yearning inside him knowing she probably doesn’t even miss him-probably hasn’t even thought of him until he just staggered back into her path like this.

This is the way it has to be. Even now he’s taking too much, being too selfish even just being able to spend some time with her.

After so many deflected attempts to talk to him about what’s going on, she eventually stops asking.

Doughnuts and coffee. Griddy’s. The bitter drink he chugs down doesn’t help with the jitters or the something he’s trying to keep shoved down, but it’s coffee and it’s needed. Always a necessity.

He distracts himself by looking out the window instead of into her eyes, but like a sailor to a siren call, his gaze always comes back to meet her own. Five is content to listen, more than content. God knows the running of his mouth has done more harm than good these past few days-it’s not like anyone fucking believes him.

The logical, maybe even fair voice in his mind loves to remind him that this actually isn’t true, but Five just shoves that down into the pit of his stomach along with everything else he’s trying to prevent from coming up into his throat.

He’s fine listening.

As he finishes off his mug, he makes sure to press the plate a bit closer to Delores. A raspberry filled donut rests upon it, one of their best sellers-a fan favorite.

He hums in recognition when she mentions she’s already had lunch. “You want to save it for later?” he questions, feeling that something he’s trying to keep a lid on twist and turn in dissatisfaction.

Maybe it’s not her favorite anymore. He sets his mug down, glancing at the clock. Well, she’s not wrong. A doughnut might ruin her appetite for dinner, he supposes, given it’s slowly heading into the late afternoon.

“No, I already have what I need.” he murmurs back to her, raising his mug in indication.

Five wipes a hand across his brow. It comes back clammy. She notices, he knows she does. A quick shake of his head turns down that conversation before it even starts. His eyes subtly flick  over at Agnes behind the counter. The kind old woman is looking at him and Delores with what can only be a grandmotherly care, maybe concern.

He’s suddenly just remembered he doesn’t have money on him.

He clicks his tongue at the inconvenience of it. He can come back and drop some cash later to make up for it-maybe. As if a couple bucks for coffee and a doughnut makes a difference this time around.

When Delores asks him for the third time what’s wrong, Five pushes himself out of his seat. “Ready to go?” 

He gently takes her hand, warping out when Agnes has her back turned.

It’s raining.

It’s raining and Delores is mad at him.

They continue walking, even as she shouts at him, frustrated. He didn’t pay. That’s not how they do things around here anymore.

“Mi dispiace amore mio. Mi dispiace.” Five mutters out an apology, just as frustrated as she is.

It was an oversight. He didn’t even think he’d be seeing her today. Had he known, he would have been prepared, better prepared.

The dying foliage does nothing for the mood as they roam through the park.

They’re so far apart now. The love is there, it will always be there, but the lives they live are so different. He should have never dragged her back into this. It was selfish the first time, and somehow even worse this time.

Maybe because this was a lesson he’s already supposed to know.

They find a bench under a gazebo to wait out the weather, but the damage has already been done. They’re both soaked, and this little refuge can’t bring them closer in the way he needs.

He needs to take her back. He shouldn’t have done this.

“Delores…” he sighs, another apology primed on his tongue as he settles back.

She’s moved her arm up at some point once they sat, and Five tries not to relax at her hold around his shoulders. He leans back into it anyways, a tired hand moving to hesitantly grab at her own. Their fingers interlock gently, and Five can’t help but watch despondent and exhausted at the way their hands clash against one another.

Her fingers, so smooth and unburdened. This life has been good to her. They’ll always remember one another, but she doesn’t need him. She doesn’t need him like he’s needed her.

“I still have a lot of growing up to do.” a shameful admission.

It’s like he’s learned nothing. Clearly he hasn’t, because he’s still in the same place, in the same pocket of time…

But he’s tired. 

Tired of growing up. Tired of always having to be the one searching for the answers. In a way this too, is a lie. He’s addicted to it-to fixing things, regardless if he was the one who caused the problems in the first place. Klaus had been right about him from day one.

Sometimes that stupid, foolish, naive little part of him that he keeps thinking he’s murdered long ago rears its ugly, ugly head. It screams for comfort and help and he can’t help but turn his head into her collarbone, resting his head under her chin.

It’s too familiar, it hurts too much.

Five allows himself to close his eyes just for a moment.

Just a moment.

The cold air rolls in, tickling the hair on his cheek. The rain continues to pour, surrounding them in a bubble of white noise.

Then, as a moment is wont to do, it ends.

Fingers slip from their warm embrace. Her arm is gently placed back at her side. Five untucks himself from the temporary cocoon he’s made and gets back up to his feet.

Delores is just a mannequin, but once upon a time she used to be his, and he used to be hers.

It’s not like that anymore.

“I’ll take you back.” he smiles something small.

 It’s quiet as they go.

He leaves her at the entrance. She’s independent now, she can walk on her own two feet. His hand cradles her own, pressing his lips to the back of it. Five greedily takes one more look into her eyes, seeing the way they shine, seeing the way they care.

If he asked her she’d come with. Her heart is too big for her chest. But Five shouldn’t be here in the first place-shouldn’t be crawling back to something he had pretended to move on from. The fact that he didn’t catch himself-stop himself, before his feet found their way here is…it’s bad.

All he can do is let go, again.

“Bye Delores.” he murmurs, ignoring the voice of the clerk as he heads back out into the rain.

With regret burning in his gut and the day turning to evening, Five heads towards the liquor store.

He’s going to get blackout drunk.

It doesn’t matter anyways, he can just restart. He can restart whenever and wherever he wants. He has that power now, that autonomy. It makes no goddamn difference to him.

It doesn’t.

He warps in on sticky tile and starts blindly grabbing. Normally he might be a little picky, or at least look for a good scotch he prefers, but not tonight. Either way his greedy hands navigate towards the bright and colourful bottles anyways, tucking several under his arm as he goes.

The cashier has finally spotted him, saying something that slips in one ear and out the other.

One of the bottles slips from his clumsy hold onto the floor with a crash. Liquid blooms out so quickly from the remnants. Five watches, oddly fixated, unable to look away. Luther’s bleeding skull, the dead eyes of his siblings buried under rubble-

A hand grips at his arm and muscle memory reacts before his brain can, evading the touch effortlessly. He sweeps his foot out, watching impassively the way the fool goes down onto the floor. Five sighs, on a whim changing his plans once more. He plants his feet, standing over the civilian that was just trying to run the cash register for the day and places a well aimed punch to the jaw to knock him out.

Sloppy and he’s not even drunk yet.

His bottles are deposited on the counter and Five moves to the door, flipping the sign hanging on it to ‘Closed’ with little regret. 

This stupid little hovel is his for the night.

The crack of the seal breaking gives little satisfaction as he unscrews the lid to the first bottle of the nice. He takes a heavy swig, overwhelmed by the burn moving down his throat. When he finally comes up for air, he wipes his mouth aggressively with his sleeve, bright eyes falling back down to the body in the middle of the aisle.

Fine. For later.

He drags the guy by the ankles over to one of the back closets, grunting as he tries to shove the larger body inside. With a couple of awkward maneuvers, and a quick slam of the door, Five makes his way back to what really matters: the booze.

An attempt is made to not think about anything at all other than the here and now. Focusing on the burning of his throat, the amusement that he's already halfway through some Bombay Sapphire does little to actually improve his mood.

So he drinks harder.

He grabs martini glasses, shoves them onto the checkout counter with the rest of the bottles and gets momentarily distracted by a pack of those stupid little umbrellas hanging on one of the column ends. Those get snatched too and when he rips open the packaging, they spill everywhere, even colourful when they aren’t properly unfolded. He pours a different drink in each glass, and then proceeds to act like they are shots, tipping them back and swallowing them down with little fanfare.

It doesn’t take a lot to get buzzed.

It takes even less time to get absolutely hammered.

He’s not exactly in an adult body, and whatever else he cracked open seems to be doubling his progress in getting absolutely shit-faced drunk. Once he trips over his own foot and finds the floor more comfortable, Five laughs, because it means things can finally start getting fun.

The light-headed tingling in his skull is bliss, protecting him from the endless bombardment of thinking he has to do on a daily basis.

Of course that fun is short-lived too when the door is kicked down.

Blearily taking in men looming over him in black, Five frowns. Familiar.

“You’re pretty…early, aren’t you?” he slurs, then asks, because he’s not actually sure what time it is.

But it feels like…it definitely feels like, they arrived early.

The metallic click of a gun has him warping to the other side of the store before anything is said. Gunfire hits right where he had been sitting, bottles exploding and his makeshift nest now ruined. No words. No warning.

“Huh.” he notes in interest, staggering into one of the shelves to stop his momentum.

Weren’t they supposed to want him alive? He can't actually remember.

The unit begins charging inside so Five takes the opportunity to grab a bottle and smash it against the nearest counter to create a makeshift shank. It’s rather cramped in the store, he probably should have picked a better location. More gunfire.

He runs towards the wall and in a burst of blue light, comes out the other side of the building into the evening air. Five crouches, making his way back towards the front entrance of the shop. He can hear the leader shouting orders, some of them bursting out through the back, one of them maybe finding the cashier in the closet.

Who really knows, he’s not paying enough attention.

What he does know is that if there is a group of people, there’s always one in the back. 

And Five fucking now hates the one in the back.

He lunges.

The shard of glass in his hand slices quickly, effortlessly, across the other man’s neck. He viciously turns the man’s staggering form around, clutching at their arms hard, staring even harder into their eyes-watching their fearful realization that they’re going to die. Because this one is the fifth-this one is now the officially labeled fifth, regardless of how the order goes from here on out.

With stony eyes he watches their panic, watches as they choke on their own blood. Did he care about taking a life when he shot Luther in the head? Did he fucking understand that wasn’t even the target priority? He slowly presses the shank into the man’s stomach, twists, leaves it there.

The raw pain, the gurgling helpless choke of their agony, it does nothing for him. It gives no reprieve.

He feels sick.

Five releases the falling body like a sack of potatoes, hands cramping. He yanks the gun from their hands before they even hit the floor.

Four left.

He grins, all teeth and malice. With a quick cock of the gun, he shoves into the shop and begins unloading-emptying the entire clip of bullets inside with no hesitation.

Three left.

Two left.

One left.

The air explodes in a burst of glass, foam, and liquid. 

Silence.

Where is the last?

Where the fuck is the last?

Obviously they managed to get out around the back and now-

He turns too slow, too stupidly drunk to react properly. An explosion of needles, fire, pain bursts through his veins like a livewire straight up and through his body. It steals an unexpected scream of pain from his throat before he goes down. The gun drops, and he hits the pavement hard, hip throbbing as he sprawls across the ground.

The sound of electricity, contained, violent, spins in his ears as a large black shadow approaches in his blurry vision.

“D-Did you just fucking-” he bites out breathlessly, but his limbs are trembling, spasming, tense with pain.

He’s pretty certain he just got tased.

And that’s really embarrassing.

“It didn’t need to go this way.” the other rasps, and of course it’s the leader, of course it is.

He can shake it off, he’s done it before, he’ll do it again. It was just the unexpected pain of it all, it caught him off guard.

It also might be important that he could possibly be a little drunk.

Five laughs, loose and amused, head lulling to the side heavily. The concrete smells like rain. There are people shouting in the distance. Oh right, this is a public place.

“Sloppy.” he chides the leader, and maybe himself. “Verrry sloppy.”

He’s grabbed by the front of his shirt. Five groans, hand sluggishly reaching out, fingertips brushing against the gun he dropped before he’s being hauled up.

It doesn’t matter. He’ll reset in a second.

There are sirens now too, in the distance.

Five kicks a leg out into the man’s ribs, forcefully trying to push the other away. It doesn’t work, the man only lunges for him instead and they start grappling.

There’s a familiar whistle of air, a metallic twang, a cry of pain.

Five’s back slams into the pavement again, dropped.

Sounds and sights blur together as the sky and ground meet. Large hands, gentler this time, heave him up like he weighs nothing. They tuck him close to their chest and Five knows that fabric of that coat, knows the sound of his brother’s heartbeat.

“Motherfucker-who sent you! What do you want with him!?” snarls a voice in the back. “Luther, the hell are you doing? Just get out of here before the cops come! I’ll meet you-”

“Well I didn’t know if you needed help!”

“What-Who do you think you’re talking to-huh? Of course I don’t!”

Oh, Diego came too?

Five leans his heavy head against a large chest. “This isn’t how this was supposed…supposed to go.” he murmurs to himself, hand reaching up to idly press against the fabric of Luther’s stupid coat.

It’s cold out now, darker. The sounds are fading.

“Five?” his brother asks, concerned.

“Was just-supposed to…” the words trail off, his eyes fluttering shut. “Just wanted to-just for a second-since nothing mattered-didn’t mean anything.” he slurs, shaking his dizzy head. “You weren’t supposed to come.”

His legs dangle and sway as Luther carries him who knows where. Wait, Diego said home. That’s where they were going. God, he’s pretty drunk.

It doesn’t matter.

Luther's voice sounds a bit clearer, maybe he’s looking down at him. “What doesn’t mean anything?”

Five clumsily released his grip from his brother’s coat, waving it in a vague manner as if to say ‘any of this.’

“Was just gonna restart.” his arm drops limply, hanging now in freefall.

Because he can do that now. Whenever he wants. He has that power, he-can do that without an issue now.

The way his brother’s chest expands and contracts, it’s a sigh. Luther seems at a loss. “Five I…what happened? Just tell me what happened.” the leader tries again, trying to understand anything at all.

But it doesn’t matter, it just doesn’t.

He says as such. “Doesn’t matter…none of it does.”

Silence.

Luther grabs his dangling hand by the wrist and tenderly places it back across Five’s torso. “Are you cold?” he asks, rubbing a hand along his smaller brother’s upper arm, as if to inject heat back into it.

Five didn’t realize he was trembling.

He turns his head down, hiding his face from the other. “Mhm.” he lies, hand reaching back up to press against the grey fabric.

At least Delores didn’t have to see all this.

Footsteps pound down the pavement behind them. Danger. Luther is in danger. Five seizes, attempting to jerk out of his brother’s hold, fingers clawing himself up that giant frame to see who is there-

“Woah-easy!” Luther stammers, trying to reign his hostile brother back into his hold.

“Hey! Calm down, it’s just me” Diego exclaims, staring down Five in alarm as he catches up to them.

All the tension suddenly drains from his body, leaving him winded.

“Jesus Diego-” he breathes, resting his forehead on Luther’s shoulder before he’s sliding back down into the initial hold against the man’s chest, glaring as his other brother walks beside them.

“No I think I oughta be saying that to you, don’t you think? What the hell, Five?” Diego barks, all questions and anger and worry. "Jesus-" he crinkles his nose in disgust. "Drunker than a skunk." he mutters to his brother's state of being, watching.

He wouldn’t have noticed the worry the first time around.

Five can’t help but be curious. “How’d you even find me?”

Diego laughs but there’s no amusement in it, instead disbelieving and wide-eyed. “Are you kidding? You left a damn trail. Kid stole a mannequin. Kid alone dragging around a mannequin. Kid returned the mannequin. And then, oh I don’t know, the gunshots in the same area!” Diego shakes his head. “No seriously, are you kidding?”

Diego must spend a lot of time listening to tapped police wires on the radio.

Well, Five can admit he might have been a little devil may care about it all.

“I’ll fix it.” he grumbles with a roll of his eyes before they slip shut to fight away the vertigo. “It’s fine.” he assures the other.

Not that he can explain how, but…they wouldn’t believe him anyways.

“We’re going back to the house, and then you’re going to sleep this shit off, and then explain to all of us what the hell is going on.” Diego orders.

Five chuckles.

That’s funny.

He’s so tickled by it that he continues to laugh, breezy little exhales that get louder and begin to shake his body.

That’s so funny.

How can it be that whenever he wants them all to listen to him, they won't, but now that he's sloppy drunk and unwilling to bother, that they suddenly want to know everything?

“You’re kidding me.” he breathes.

Five bursts into laughter that’s too loud for an evening walk through the cramped alley. Luther startles, freezing at the behavior. Five is too busy throwing his head back in laughter to see the way Diego meets his brother’s eyes in wary worry.

He feels like he might throw up.

But it’s not sickness that heaves out of him, it’s that ugly something that he’d been trying to keep a lid on since Luther’s death-no, maybe from long before that.

Whatever sound he makes is halfway between a growl or maybe a sob, and a strangled choke to keep it at bay.

The air freezes, a moment of anticipation before-

Five violently shoves himself away from Luther, gritting his teeth at the tightening of the other’s grip. Diego reaches forward and Five falls into the familiar comfort of a portal, blue illuminating the alley before he comes out in front of both of them with a gasping inhale.

“Fuck you.” he seethes looking backwards at them, ugly and raw and sharp, tremoring with energy. 

He stumbles, then starts walking forward, eyes glaring at the narrow walls surrounding him. Fists clench and unclench. He’s going to kill someone, something, he’s going to explode he’s-

Whoever’s hand that just gripped at his shoulder is the first victim.

Five whirls around, priming a punch right for Diego’s face. The man dodges it, dark eyes alarmed that Five would even consider that to be an option of action.

“What the fuck!” Number Two exclaims. “You little shit-” and there’s that anger, burning bright even in the dark.

Diego charges but Luther winds his arms around him and keeps him there, preventing Five from being tackled.

“Stop. This won’t help anything!” Number One orders. “Five, will you just-”

Diego curses. “Fuck no! I’m not just gonna let him pull this shit because he’s drunk-” he shouts back, glaring at Five, body squirming in an attempt to get away. “You owe us answers!” he commands, but the way he’s trying so hard to break out of Luther’s grip speaks to more than just anger, there's something else there-frantic.

“I don’t owe you anything!” Five shouts back venomously.

Lies.

He runs.

“NO!” Diego roars with a desperation that almost sends Five tripping flat onto his stomach.

He continues running instead.

Footsteps sprint after him. Five slips sharply around a corner, slamming his shoulder into the side of the wall on accident before he continues to run.

The worst part is he doesn’t even know what he’s doing anymore. He doesn’t know why he’s running, doesn’t even know where he’s going, he’s just-running.

He never runs. He always runs.

A blade whizzes past his ear and widely curves around the front of him, embedding into the paneling right beside him. It’s enough to get him to freeze up in reaction, hesitating just for that one moment before he begins to run again.

“Diego!” Luther shouts in alarm, furious.

That one second is all that was needed as Diego slams his body into Five's back. They fall in a tangle of limbs and Five flings an elbow, feeling the other’s nose give away against it.

“Fuck!” Diego chokes as blood bursts from his nostrils, but he’s leaning his weight onto Five now whose back is once again shoved to the wet concrete.

Five growls in anger, struggling against the weight now straddling him. The disbursement of energy in his body pushes back against him, telling him he’s spent for the moment when it comes to warping. Or maybe it's just because he's losing control by the second.

“Get off of me!” he screams, fighting fighting fighting.

“Hey fuck you!” Diego seethes back, grappling for Five’s wrists to slam them both against the ground.

“Guys!” Luther shouts having caught up, his big frame just too large to maneuver through these small streets easily.

Diego lets out a string of curses, closing his eyes in pain as blood drips down his chin, droplets staining Five’s blazer and white blouse. “What the hell is your problem!?”

“Just get off of me, Diego!” he shouts, breathing harsh, chest tight, feet kicking.

“Five, just calm down-” Luther tries but it only serves to get Five to struggle harder.

He growls and thrashes and snarls but Diego’s grip is unrelenting, even as he gets a broken nose and bruises for the sake of it.

Eventually Diego shoves harder, leaning down to stare into Five's face. “Stop fighting me! Stop. Fighting.” his brother orders harshly, his grip bruising as they now push at his shoulders.

“I CAN’T!” Five finally screams, releasing all of his darkness through his throat.

The sounds fade into static and the wheeze of his panicked breathing. He can’t breathe-

“I can’t-” he chokes again, gasping as his struggle fades into something half-hearted and weak. “I can’t-I-I can’t-” his breath hitches on an inhale, hitches again on the same attempted breath.

The hands viciously clawing into his shoulders loosen.

“I can’t-” his voice tremors and falls apart just like every other part of him does.

Hot tears slip out of his eyes and Diego’s expression turns into horror. “D-Don’t-hey don’t do that-” his brother is quick to panic at the sight of tears, it almost makes Five laugh again.

But he’s far too gone now.

Instead he tries to curl in on his side, fighting to breathe. He’s an adult in a kid’s body and he’s having a panic attack on the dirty ground of some alleyway after getting plastered in some random liquor store.

Ridiculous.

His fingers dig into his scalp, pulling at his hair. Larger fingers take hold of his own, trying to gently extract them from the violent grip he has on his own strands.

“Stop. Please, Five.” Luther appeals softly, and Five listens, letting him pull his hands away and sit him up.

This is clearly uncharted territory for all of them. Five doesn’t do weak-doesn’t do meltdowns of the crumbling kind. It’s always stoicism, sharp tongues, dark glares, and he storms off before anyone can see otherwise, but this trembling apart in front of others, these whimpering little noises and choked back tears-that’s all new.

“I fucked up-” he whispers through his stuttering inhales, hand clawing at his chest.

He really fucked up if his evening lead to Luther and Diego catching him instead of a bullet being imbedded in his brain to restart this shitty shitty timeline.

“Whatever it is…” Luther repeats again, crouching down to try and meet Five’s eyes. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. You're not doing this alone anymore Five.”

Five laughs again, unstable and weak. Those words. He despises those words. They don’t need to figure it out, he already did. He’ll fix it. He’ll restart but he doesn’t know why then his hands won’t stop shaking when he thinks about taking Diego’s blade still sunken into that wall and slitting his own throat with it.

He puts a hand to his mouth, pulling up his knees to rest his spinning head against them, rocking.

He’s a professional. He’s a-he’s the best of the best.

This is all wrong.

Things get blurry after that. 

They pull him up, all hands and sharp murmurs to each other. Arguing. He’s staring at the ground where Diego’s blood has mixed with a small puddle of rainwater, swirling and conglomerating together.

Five bends over and promptly gets sick.

Someone rubs his back as he does and continues even when all that’s left is the sound of his dry heaving, body spent. Then he’s being carried again, his cheek pressing into that fabric he likes so much.

Stupid coat.

Lights swirl and dance behind his eyelids. More voices swirl into the dance at some point. The smell of smoke and nicotine invades his senses, a hand cards through his dirty, damp hair.

It’s dark after that but he stays in between the plane of being awake and asleep, as if his body can’t stop fighting even when he’s thrown in the towel.

Five’s eyes flutter open and see Ben sitting at the end of his bed, staring out the window.

“Hey…” he whispers, body spent.

Ben stills, eyes stricken and alarmed as he turns to see Five staring right at him. He looks somewhere, maybe at someone else, before looking back down at him.

“...Five?” Ben asks slowly, hesitantly.

“Yep.” he confirms, weakly trying to reach out and touch. “Y’look cool Ben.” he wanted to say that last time he could see him. It's a good look.

Ben smiles sadly, sidling closer as Five’s hand passes right through him. “Go to sleep.” he orders kindly, as if Five hasn’t already ruined it all before it even began.

“I ruined this one Benny-” he croaks. Wood creaks beside him, a body shifting in a chair. “I-I wasn’t-”

Someone tugs the covers over him more, shushes him quietly, pushes back his hair from his face.

“It’s-It's okay. It's going to be okay. Just rest for now.” Ben reassures calmly, but his face speaks of unfiltered worry.

“Can’t.” he sighs, even as his eyes flutter and he sinks further into the pillows.

He fades.

“Did you really thoroughly check?”

A titter, quiet. “So are we playing twenty questions and are all twenty of yours going to be that same thing? Because if so we could probably have a cut off at three-”

“I’m serious.”

“Well you were there too when Grace checked. No injuries of the death kind, just a couple scrapes, a couple bruises, and a whoooole lotta booze. Unless we both happened to be hallucinating what was said-” a pause. A dramatic gasp. “You didn’t get high without me did you-”

“But then why could he-”

“Beeenjamin Benjamin Benjamin, you know I don’t know why! Someone other than this beautiful mug could finally look at you though, that’s sort of fun!”

“You’re worthless. Absolutely worthless.”

“You know it babe.”

Is there a reason they always have to talk over him when he’s trying to sleep?

He falls back under.

Chapter Text

The sun hasn’t even risen when he gasps back to life, a nightmare behind his eyes and ash on his tongue. There’s no sense of time or how long he’s been out. Klaus is snoring in the chair next to him and Five puts a weak hand to his forehead, eyelids falling shut. His head is pounding, throbbing with each inhale in. 

It’s deserved.

He swipes his tongue across his dry lips, keeping his eyes locked onto Klaus as he attempts to shuffle out of bed quietly. It’s time to get going. No rest for the wicked.

He needs to reset. Right now-before any more time passes.

“What are you doing?”

Surprise locks his limbs and he freezes at the visage of Ben in the corner of his eye, leaning near the door. Five forcibly relaxes his muscles and continues to slide out of bed.

That’s…unexpected. He had thought-

“I saw you react. You can’t ignore me.” the specter of his brother chuckles, but they don’t bother hiding their hurt at being rejected. “How are you feeling?”

Now Five just feels like a bastard in conjunction with a hangover. He wants to tell his brother that he will see him in just just a few minutes regardless, but explaining that all wouldn’t be convenient nor efficient. And so, Ben remains ignored as Five presses his socked feet onto the floor, slowly moving towards the door. 

He can’t think about the implications just yet, being able to see him-not just yet. He needs to be at full brain capacity, and preferably in a new restart.

“I’ll wake him, Five.” The threat comes out sharp, unforgiving. “Don’t think I won’t.”

The hand he’s reaching out towards the knob freezes.

Of course Ben will wake Klaus. 

Ben can’t grab him, can’t keep Five from doing anything that he disapproves of. Ben, who would have done all that’s needed and then some to make sure Five stopped flinging himself towards the nearest dangerous obstacle. He looks over at his brother’s face, tries to really examine it. It’s too dark, too muddy to make out in the room, but he knows whatever expression is there isn’t a kind one.

“...I’m hungry.” he whispers in exasperation, thinking of something on the spot.

“I’ll come with you, then.”

Teeth bite into the soft gum of his inner cheek. “No need.” he refuses Ben, stubborn.

“Great, let’s go.” Ben is so affable, unbothered as he nears Five’s side.

Five keep his eyes averted.

He grabs the doorknob, twisting slowly, and opening the door as quietly as he can. The ancient wood and old hinges give a groaning creak anyways, but Klaus snores through it, dead to the world.

Five silently pads down the corridor, pausing at the staircase that will lead them down.

“Ben…” he starts, but finds once again that dangerously blank area in his mind where words don’t form.

“It’s okay.” they reply in understanding, but Five shakes his head. “It is. I get seeing me might be-”

No. That’s not what it’s about.

“That’s not relevant. Listen.” He cuts through his brother’s words quickly and to the point. “It will be beneficial for everyone, if you just let me do what I need to do without waking Klaus or making this a big deal.” he tries to explain as he rubs his aching temples.

“And what is it you need to do?” Ben asks, hovering too close to Five’s side.

His hand drops. “I need to get the gun from the old man’s study.”

“And?”

“And, leave with it.”

“Where?”

Five sighs in irritation. “Somewhere that isn’t here.”

“For what reason.”

“There are people of a certain…threat level, following me, I want to take them out, away from the house.” Five says, starting down the stairs.

That should be a sufficient enough reason.

“Really?”

Five pauses, hand on the railing.

“Yes, really.” his eyes narrow.

“Look me in the eye and say that.”

A scoff. “Being arbitrary are you?”

“Just look me in the eye, and tell me that’s the truth.” Ben repeats easily.

Agitated, Five turns, finally taking in the person in front of him.

Ben doesn’t look like a person on this plane, his colours are washed out and cold. It almost feels like his very form is fuzzy somehow, incomplete. But it’s still Ben, an older Ben, a Ben that Five never got to meet.

A Ben that Five never got to say goodbye to.

He doesn’t want to do all of this now. He doesn’t want to reunite with Ben like this while his head is pounding and shame tumbles in his gut. Next time-next time maybe, if he’s lucky enough. Maybe they could…talk. Really talk.

He clenches his jaw and straightens. “It’s the truth.”

“Liar.” The callout is immediate and bold, Ben’s eyes are hard.

The absolute audacity. His lips part in shock.

“It’s the truth. ” he insists.

“You’re a bad liar-”

“I am an excellent liar-” He’s prickly now, pride threatened by a single sentence.

Ben gives a simple smile and it’s not a kind one. “Not with me.”

“That’s rich-coming from someone I haven’t seen in over forty years.”

“Forty…what?”

Oh the irony is thick tonight. He hadn’t even tried to explain anything this time around-not even the fact that he’s not a damn child. Instead he took a joyride and then got drunk off his ass.

The electricity under his skin itches with movement. He needs to move. Now. The more time he spends talking or explaining the more time is being wasted in a timeline that’s already ruined.  He had his little mistake, now it’s time to move on. Instead of staying around to explain, Five cruelly warps away, illuminating the dark manor with a flash of bright blue. He comes out the other end on the ground floor, with this stomach ready to put him back on his ass at his action and the nausea swells, mouth watering in warning. The alcohol is certainly punishing him now.

Ben is shouting from upstairs. It’s likely Klaus will be down here any second.

Fast, he needs to move fast. He needs to reset this all and start over.

Five pushes himself into the study, making a break for his father’s hunting rifle presented proudly over the mantle. He drags a chair over, loud and messy, quickly yanking the gun off of its prized perch.

Bullets.

There are already footsteps, creaking the woods overhead,  exclamations.

“Godammit-” he whispers out a curse, throwing himself back over to the old man’s desk.

He yanks one of the drawers open, throwing out a magnifying glass and various papers to reach for the box of bullets in the back, ripping the entire thing open. They explode forth, numerous bullets spilling onto the ground and clattering onto the desk.

Five only needs one.

The gun is shoved onto the desk and Five yanks the chamber handle backwards, mechanically handling and reloading the gun as easy as breathing.

It’s really inconvenient to have to shoot himself with a gun so long.

He heaves it around, awkwardly trying to maintain the grip on it as he aims it towards the side of his head, ignoring the sounds of panic drawing nearer.

He pulls the trigger just as an arm reaches out to grab him.

It all happens in an instant. The gun shoots, deafening in its proximity. Instead of darkness, there’s a sudden grating explosion of metal on metal grinding, and an explosion of heat near Five’s hand holding the barrel. The momentum propels him backwards off balance, the gun being thrown from his hands as the bullet rips through the bottom of the gun and embeds itself into the floor.

Someone catches the back of his arms as he falls, supporting his weight so he doesn't crash to the floor. Five stares in shocked disbelief, chest heaving at the discarded gun and the bent hole now smoking at the bottom of it.

And then he’s being yanked back up and turned to come face to face with Diego’s wide-eyed stare, frantic with fear. 

“What ARE YOU DOING!?" Diego screams as Five stares dumbly into his eyes before he’s inevitably distracted by the horrendous mottling of dark bruising that’s already bloomed onto his brother’s face, crimson scabbing above his lip. "Say something Five!" he shouts, hands brushing over Five’s face, feeling his head, tilting his jaw.

What.

Five slowly turns his gaze back to peer at the gun. Diego. Diego stopped the trajectory of the bullet from entering his brain and redirected it so violently that it…

Fuck.

“Fuck.” he breathes.

Fuck fuck fuck he’s made a mess of it all. An absolute mess.

Fix it.

Diego holds him close. Five allows himself to be the monster he is as he wraps his arms back around his brother gently, even as his hand silently winds down with quiet and horrific intention to reach for one of the blades tucked away within the crying man's belt holster.

“It’ll be alright, Diego.” he soothes quietly to the other’s frantic rambling.

And then he smashes his knee up into their stomach, allowing the other’s unsteady crouching position and the impact to his abdomen to do most of the work as he tumbles backwards.

Five is out the door, barely missing Diego’s hand swiping at his ankle even as his scream echoes along the walls.

He lifts the blade, allowing himself no time to actually think it through as he presses it to his neck. Diego is right there in the doorway-he drags the blade-

“Allison-Help!"

“I heard a rumor that you can’t harm yourself!”

The blade digging into his neck freezes, not even halfway through the process. Five gives a pained exhale with wide eyes as his entire body locks up, freezing him in place as the air is dragged out of his lungs.

"No-" he gasps, eyes growing wide as his hands betray him, his body betrays him.

No no no-

Blood pearls along his hand and spills over down his neck, from the damage he had already started. It stains his pale skin, blooming along the crisp white of his blouse with intensity.

He fights it. Of course he fights it. There’s a moment where his body jerks, almost as if it’s pushing through the power, hand spasming as it tightens along the sharp metal, ripping his skin slightly on accident. A grated noise punches out of his mouth as he painfully strains against this invisible power, unable to stop himself.

Luther is in front of him immediately, crouching, hands gripping Five’s wrists.

“Drop the blade.” Luther commands urgently, desperation lining every line of his face.

Five grips it tighter, teeth gritting.

“Five-” Luther murmurs all worried movement with nowhere to put it, leaning in close so Five is forced to meet his eyes. “D-Drop the blade, please.” he orders again. Before Five can even say anything or react, Luther’s hands are on his own, attempting to pry the weapon out of his taut grip.

He can’t help himself, he never knows when to quit-can’t accept the outcome of this scenario. If he does, that means he’s stuck in a run he’s already ruined. 

Now Diego is back, knelt down right beside him, pressing a hand to his back of all places. Number One and Two, actually working together, all just to get their wayward sibling to drop a toy he’s not supposed to be playing with. All he can do is stare, the intense prismatic grey of his eyes clashing with the dark severity of Diego’s own as his hand clutches the blade like a lifeline.

They don’t understand.

But then he can feel it, the vibrations. His hands are slightly shaking, trying to power through with sheer will against an unfair entity but that’s not the same to the hand on his back. Diego’s hand is vicious with tremors, and it’s only felt more when his brother’s free hand moves up to cup part of Five’s neck to try and stave off the bleeding.

“Just-” Diego pleads, tone bordering on desperate. “Just let it go, buddy. Please-please just-"

Five stiffens. He drops the blade.

It falls with a thud, landing on carpet. Diego wastes no time shoving it away like it’s a landmine instead of putting it back in his holster and then he tugs Five’s frame close, arms winding tight around his brother. The unexpected embrace has him freezing up in the other’s hold, as Diego cradles the back of his head, rocking them.

“I got you. I got you.” his brother says breathlessly. “Why? W-Why the fuck would you-would you do that? ” His brother might be crying-sobbing.

Five finds himself at a distressing loss, carefully pressing his hands against Diego’s chest to try and make space. The safety, the warmth there-it's dangerously intoxicating, and Five cannot fall prey to it.

Diego just holds him closer, rocking him. “Jesus…. jesus. ” he repeats, shaken, as if-

As if any of this means anything.

As if Five actually just tried to...

“Wait...I wasn’t-” Five tries.

“Stop! I can’t even f-fuckin’ think straight-” the other is severely shaken, and hearing the way Diego trembles against him also shakes something in Five. “Someone go get mom-” he orders to the audience that’s accumulated in the room.

It’s Allison that disengages to go get help, he can hear her shoes along the hardwood.

“Remove the rumor.” he barks out at her as she leaves.

“ Stop. ” Diego presses a hand against the side of Five’s neck again, likely focusing on this specific task to help ground himself.

“...I can explain.”

Diego’s hand tightens on Five’s shoulder, giving him a light shake, eye manic. “Can you? Because in the time you’ve been here you’ve had a breakdown, gotten drunk off your ass, killed multiple people, and just tried to fucking kill yourself twice! ” he’s hysterical, having lost his composure sometime between seeing Five’s tears and preventing the bullet from striking true. “You clearly can’t keep yourself safe!"

“Diego. Diego…” Luther’s warning comes firm but soft as his large hand settles on Number Two’s shoulder, even as his eyes pin Five down. “Five, it’s going to be okay.” he chokes, shaking his head and clearing his throat, ever trying to be the strong leader. “Whatever you’ve been through-” Number One says, eyes glassy as he stares down his brother. “But this...this can’t be the answer-”

Luther on day one, gentle? Understanding? Concerned?

“How was the funeral?” Five finds himself oddly compelled to ask.

Luther sniffs, a half-smile forming on the side of his lips. “Delayed. Someone was missing, we were worried about him.”

The scattering of ashes has been delayed entirely, due to him.

Interesting. Five had reasoned there are some events that might be inevitable no matter what, but now that’s all been blown wide open. Ben’s statue hadn’t been destroyed in a previous timeline either…And this happened all because he didn’t try to explain anything.

He’s unsettled.

Five licks his lips, restless and agitated. “I will explain,” he repeats. “I will. Allow me to shed some light on this situation. This isn’t…it’s not what it seems.” Now there’s guilt eating at his stomach, tumbling alongside the nausea.

Diego grits his teeth. “No man, the time for talking is over.”

“Diego…” Luther’s calm voice interjects again. “Let’s hear him out. We have to hear him out.”

Oh, he’s really gone and fucked it all up now if Luther is being the sympathetic one in this situation.

And that’s how, twenty minutes later, he finds himself in one of the ornate chairs within the sitting room, neck wrapped, blanket thrown across his lap, and siblings all huddled up in various states of staring at Five. It’s still dark outside, the lamps illuminating the space warmly like a protecting embrace. It might almost be comfortable if not for the reason why they’re all here.

“Guys, I don’t think we should push him like this.” Allison says with concern, as if she hasn’t just used her powers to steal away is autonomy. “I just...especially after what’s happened…he…he should be at a hospital or-”

Five moves to straighten his tie only to find it’s not there.

He exhales, suddenly tired and feeling every bit of his real age. “Right. Well, I suppose…some answers are in order.” he admits, fingers tapping on the arm of the chair as he ignores Allison’s words outright. “What you saw me try to do just now, it was an attempt to, manually reset, as it were.”

Luther frowns. “Manually reset…what?”

“This. All of this.”

Silence.

His gaze is compelled to slide over to Klaus, who has been surprisingly quiet this time around. He’s not quite prepared to meet the sheer intensity of the gaze that’s staring back at him. Klaus, who is just sitting on the ancient floor, one knee up, glaring at Five as if he’s looking inside of him.

He flicks his gaze over to Ben, who is looking out the window. Five has a feeling Ben is pissed. He can’t exactly blame him.

Diego speaks first, tense. “Can you clarify a bit before I lose my goddamn mind?” he crosses his arms, leaning against the couch’s armrest, body coiled as he’s prepared to jump if Five so much as sneezes.

As far as Five is concerned, Diego already had lost his mind. It took Grace’s intervention to calm the man down, taking him somewhere else in the back for a while to talk. When Diego returned his gaze was grim, eyes red-rimmed and locked onto Five, but at least the tears and shouting had stopped.

Five takes a breath, and begins.

“Time travel is a gamble. When I disappeared the first time, the very first time, I accidentally jumped into an apocalyptic timeline, where you all had died trying to stop doomsday from happening." The flashes of his siblings full of rubble and ash remain in his mind like it happened yesterday. 

Silence.

Five continues. 

“One thing led to another, and I was eventually able to portal back into a time eight days before the apocalypse was going to happen. Though I tried to prevent it, I eventually learned this event was…apparently, inevitable. As a last resort, I teleported all of us back in time instead, with the intention that we could cut out the cause of the apocalypse at the root, to prevent it from ever happening in the first place.” The general summary of this is laughable, but if he tried to explain everything that happened they might actually be here until the moon falls.

Luther’s brow is already furrowed, trying to connect the dots. “But then…why-”

Diego interrupts. “What does that have to do with what you just fuckin’ tried to do?”

“I wasn’t done.” Five snaps waspishly, covering his guilt with anger. “The warp-wherever or whenever I warped us…something happened. Instead of teleporting us all back to the past, I found myself here again, tumbling out of that same portal I had already been through, eight days before the apocalypse.” Diego opens his mouth and Five holds up his hand to silence him. “Essentially, I’m back to where I started, like a loop. I’ve already done this before, several times. I learned along the way, that if I die , I am taken back to this same day, place, and time-every single time.”

The same fucking day, place, and time.

He spreads out his hands. “It all resets. I’ve already been here four times.”

The silence in the room somehow feels thicker.

“Wait, you mean to tell me…” Allison starts, expression contorting. “That we’re in some sort of space time bubble and we haven’t noticed?”

“...If that’s what you want to take away from that, sure.” Five says apathetically.

Luther’s eyes widen as if he’s just had an epiphany, posture going ramrod straight. “Wait. Manually resetting means… killing yourself to restart this-this timeline thing?” he asks, looking over to Five with those naive puppy dog eyes.

Five moves to brush his fingers against his neck, they spasm, stopping right before he touches skin. He’s not allowed to hurt himself.

“I admit the current attempt wasn’t very…methodical.” But whose fault was that?

His, actually.

“Or polite. ” Klaus finally speaks up, leveling Five with a nasty grin. “Was one of us just supposed to-to, find your body and just shrug the ole’ shoulders and say ‘oh that gosh darn that Five’ and cue the audience laughter?” The laugh is smoky and hoarse. “Is-Is that how you think this works? I just watched you try to clock yourself out twice within a forty second time span.”

Oh, Klaus really is mad at him too.

“Don’t be dramatic.” he scoffs, feeling oddly chided. “You all come back with me.”

Klaus gets up, sitting on his knees now, expression hard. “That a fact, dear?”

Actually, he doesn’t know if it’s a fact, but the evidence is there.

“There’s a correlation-”

“Then why can’t we remember?” Diego asks, straightening up, arms crossing. “Huh? Let’s say you’re right, that we all go back. Why are you the only one who remembers this shit?”

He doesn’t actually know.

“I-haven’t worked out all the details just yet.” he admits reluctantly. “There are a couple guesses as to why, but-”

“Haven’t figured that out but somehow you’ve figured out that if you kill yourself , you can reset it.” Diego repeats, bewildered. “What the fuck , Five.”

They’re actually mad at him? He didn’t ask for this to happen, didn’t ask for their judgment on any of this. It’s not like they’re the ones going through it.

“I’m aware that I made an error about the time travel.” he frowns testily. “And I, apologize for that, but that’s why it’s of utmost importance to rectify what we can while we’re here.”

Klaus laughs. “ Wow! ” he breathes, almost in awe. “You, my sweet little baby boy, are missing the point so hard that it’s flying above your head!” He makes a whistling sound with his teeth, pretending to watch said point fly around his head like a mosquito.

Five bristles. “Please get to that point sometime tonight then, so I don’t need to sit around and listen to your bitching-"

As if feeling the need for an actual adult to intervene, Allison delicately stands from her spot on the couch, smoothing down her pants. “Guys, you don’t actually believe all this, do you?” she asks, immediately looking towards Luther. “I mean…come on. It’s not…impossible sure, but, with everything that’s happened-he just tried to…”

It’s not implausible, but Five is more unstable than he is believable-that’s what she’s trying to say.

Diego intervenes. “How do you know?” he levels a grim stare at Five.

“How do I know what, Diego?”

“How do you know we are going back with you? Are you positive?”

“There’s bleed-through. Even if you can’t remember it, you all have been saying things from previous timelines that didn’t happen in current runs. I’m quite certain. Your actions have changed as well.”

Diego leans forward. “Are you 100% certain? Can you promise me that if you fucking gut yourself that we all go with you? That I’m not-not stuck with the short end of the stick and have to deal with your dead body? Have to deal with watching you kill yourself in front of me? Huh?”

Luther recoils at the very notion of allowing that to happen. “Diego!”

Five’s mouth feels dry. “I-” He didn’t think about-

“Can you!? ” his brother presses unforgivingly, demanding an answer.

“Yes, alright?! ” he exclaims back just as harshly, feeling his stomach turn and flutter in protest for what he’s just done.

“Liar.”

Five and Klaus both jerk their gazes over Ben at the window, their ghostly brother whose gaze almost resembles the barrel of the gun he was just staring down, cold and unforgiving. He’s frozen by it, only flinching out of it as Klaus hisses in an inhale, staring at Five as if he’s honest to god betrayed him.

The smile Klaus weaves is now something vicious. “He’s lying Diego~” Klaus tattles maliciously.

That causes him to tense, shoving himself to his feet.

“How dare you.” he seethes, pulse hammering in his throat. “You have no idea. None of you do.” this is all mess and fire and emotions and none of this should have ever happened. “No one can properly quantify the percentage of likelihood for this, but that doesn’t mean that I’m lying! ” he throws his hands up. “It just means that time travel always comes with a certain set of risks!

He gestures to them all, teeth out. “That’s what you all love to remind me about, right? So you can’t fucking use that against me now because it suddenly suits your story!”

Diego kicks the wayward end table near him, the lamp upon it dangerously wobbling as he stands, nostrils flaring. “If you’re not entirely sure then that means you are fucking lying!” he challenges, now looking for a fight, clearly needing something to release all of the emotions storming around in his gut.

Now everyone is getting up to their feet, exclaiming, shouting, interjecting over one another. Five’s eyes dart back and forth across all his siblings, watching how it all dissolved so easy. So very easily.

He sinks back into the chair, a hand moving up to cover his eyes.

Exhausted.

The smell of jasmine, lily, and something else warm nears him. He can hear Allison crouching nearby even while Luther tries to calm down a furious Diego, both of them trying to decide what to do with their sibling who is sitting right in front of them while Klaus only adds fuel to the fire.

“What made you want to restart?” she asks.

Five cracks an eye open, staring at her between the slats of his fingers. She’s kneeling on the floor, leaning her weight against the chair, searching for his expression.

“What do you mean.” he sighs.

“Well, if this is all real like you've mentioned...you said you wanted to manually restart. Why? What happened when you decided that was the best option to take?” she asks, watching him patiently.

Five’s teeth find his inner cheek. “I was messy.” he admits blankly even as the shame curls in his gut.

“What does that mean, Five?”

“It means, I was messy. I lost sight of the mission for a moment and allowed my…” he exhales. “I didn’t approach this one with an ideal method, that’s all.”

Because he was too overwhelmed to see that Luther was alive and in front of him before thinking about anything else.

“...That’s all?” she frowns, confused, almost looking…dissatisfied?

“Correct.”

“That’s really it?”

Five drops his hand, staring her down. "What, Allison? Just say what you want to say.”

Allison’s eyes harden, straightening at the command. “You became overwhelmed, and instead of trying to fix your problem, or just- talk to us, you thought the best thing to do would be to kill yourself , and just start straight from the beginning?”

His brow furrows, exasperation lining his skin. “As if it could be that simple. Besides what would you have me do, ask you for help when you're all so useless to me in these early days?”

“So you throw in the towel? You just quit because that's somehow easier for you than just talking to us?” she retorts back, her expression now disapproving due to his unkindness but also in disbelief. “Instead of doing the hard work to fix whatever it is?” she stays fixated on his mistake instead of taking the bait.

Easier? He despises how she talks down at him when she can't actually back it up. That haughty superiority-he wonders if this is how Luther or Diego feel about him-if everyone, feels that way about him...but at least he never pretended behind a false pretense. He's always known who he is. The background noises have died down, all that’s left is the silence of his own foolishness and the weight of his guilt.

“The reasons are more complicated than that.”

It’s more complicated because he made those mistakes. He, for a split second, allowed himself to grow complacent and tired. 

He wanted a break , when those don’t exist. Not for him.

Allison exhales, pretending she's above it all as she briefly puts a hand to her temple before shifting her position so she’s further in front of Five. Her arm softly rests beside his own near the arm rest. “Then explain it to me. Just talk to us, Five.” she pleads kindly to him. “Because none of this really adds up.”

It all adds up perfectly actually, he's just not in the habit of sharing. He removes his arm, tucking it back near his front to avoid her touch.

His eyes flick up, taking in his siblings as they all stare him down.

All except-

“Where’s Vanya?” he asks quietly.

Allison blinks. “Diego told her to leave…she had violin lessons or-”

Five lifts his hand to the air, as if that somehow explains what she wants to know. “See? It’s already too late, I need to reset.”

Klaus groans, hands moving up to aggressively rub his forehead. “Oh Christ, stop saying that! You’re really-you’re really sort of pissing me off you know!”

His dark-haired sibling stalks towards the chair, eyes grim. “How many times have you done the ole’ blow on the cartridge trick to restart the game?” he asks, posture restless.

Five frowns, tensing at being the target of Klaus of all people. “It’s restarted-”

Klaus flings a finger into his face that’s offensively close, waggling it in correction. “Ah-ah-ah! Nope. How many times, have you personally done it, darling? Manually, as they say, or whatnot.”

“What does that matter?”

“Oh just tell me, for old time’s sake, dear?” Klaus smiles sweetly, batting his eyelashes.

Five pauses. “Once.”

Luther shifts in the back, uneasy. “But you said…you said that you’ve already done this like four ti-”

“I have. ” Five sneers. “Connect the dots, it isn’t that difficult, even for someone of your intelligence.” he gets mean when he’s cornered.

Diego throws his hands up. “Oh would you quit it with that shit? You think I-how we didn’t see how you fell apart back there-”

“Shut your mouth.” Five warns him quickly.

Diego does not shut his mouth. “This shit doesn’t make sense. You claim we all go back, but you’re also saying there’s bleed-through no matter what, at some point I’m going to remember that you put my fucking knife up to your throat and tried to kill yourself like some-some fuckin’ animal-” Diego paces, heated and heavy.

“Well, that hasn’t happened yet.”

“Except it has because when I took one look at you in that alley, everything told me that you were going to do something stupid and that if I didn’t catch you that you were going to die!"

Five swallows thickly, sliding out of his seat to stand simply because the height distinction between him and the other people looming is too great.

“...I can’t help that.” is all he can eventually say, trying to seem unaffected about it all.

Diego freezes, posture going rigid. “You. Can’t. Help. That?” he repeats, voice dark.

Allison straightens up as well, sensing the air has changed.

Diego exhales sharply, a half-laugh. “You’re a selfish son of a bitch man. Do you-do you even care about me at all? About any of us?”

Five clenches his jaw so quick his teeth clack together, glaring firm up at Diego. Number Two stalks forward aggressively, only halted by Luther, who steps in front of to take the brunt of that ire but Diego isn't done running his mouth.

“You hear me Five? You fuckin’ hear me man!? Do you give a shit about your actions when you leave us behind!? How many times have you left one of us with your fuckin’ corpse because you took the easy way out!?”

The easy way out. Five's throat feels tight. He tries to dig his nails into his palms but his hands just begin to jitter instead at the attempt, held back from hurting himself. He's a stranger in his own skin.

Klaus sighs, stroking his facial hair. “Well he did sort of just say once, so-” stepping a bit closer to Five’s side.

Rage creeps up from his feet, settling in his spine like it belongs there. He can feel his face getting hot, the guilt of Diego’s desperate scream in that alley the first time around echoing through his head like a horrible repeating loop worse than the one he’s currently enduring.

If he allows himself to feel anger, he can ignore the hurt that’s just sprouted painfully between his ribs, pressing vindictively into his lungs.

Diego can’t seem to contain himself. “Always thought you were better than us, right? Man we’re just like, fuckin’ pawns on your chessboard. You get to just run around and spread your damage and then leave while we’re left to pick up the pieces and-”

His brother’s anger…he’s not certain if this reaction is how a normal sibling should be reacting, or if the previous timelines are finally just making a grand reveal in the form of Diego’s protectiveness turning on him in the worst sort of way.

Five stares down Diego’s rage, watching as the bull rages and bucks, uncaring of who he hits in the process. “You have no idea the things I’ve had to do.” he says, voice lacking inflection. “And I’ll continue to do whatever needs to be done, as many times as I need to.” he says honestly, lifting his chin.

As many times as he needs to, to get it right.

Allison frowns. “That sounds like you're restarting and trying different things with us. Manipulating us and our emotions even when we can’t remember until you get an outcome that suits you?” she’s saying it but the words are uncertain in her mouth, like that’s the conclusion she initially came to but something is preventing her from actively believing it.

She sounds like she’s projecting a little, if he’s being completely honest.

Luther shakes his head, furrowing his brow, confused. “I don’t think that’s what he’s…”

Five shrugs. “Sure I am.” he smiles flatly, playing into it. “That is essentially what’s happening, right? I’m going back, and I’m manipulating the factors, several of which include you and your precious feelings, until I get the outcome I want.”

Sure he is.

Ben bursts into bitter laughter, as if amused by the spectacle. “Liar.”

Klaus suddenly inhales, eyes widening. "Oh …oh wow, you’re really good at that.” he breathes as he looks down at Five. “You made daddy so mad for a second that he almost forgot you just tried to ritualistically sacrifice your ass-twice. Do you hate being liked that much? Can’t stand someone worrying about you?” he laughs, it’s reedy and thin, bending down with a smile that feels a little more like the Klaus he’s familiar with.

Five doesn’t answer, doesn’t even act like he’s heard Klaus.

Luther blinks, eyes screwing shut for a second as if to think really hard about something before they open again. “But-wait, isn’t the outcome you're trying to get that...” he trails off, honestly, he’s not doing too bad, Five thinks he might get there soon.

But then Diego seethes, and Luther has his hands full stepping in to protect, pushing his brother back into the couch.

There they go.

The two start arguing with each other, the attention taken off of Five just for a moment so they can instead argue about him.

It’s not that he hates being liked, it’s that he hates pretending he’s good. He’d rather not pretend to be that person, good, kind, and selfless if he doesn’t have to. He’s not good. He’s not selfless. He’s not someone to be cradled and coddled and seen as precious. The value of own life is one he’s already put a price on, it’s not troublesome to him when he has other lives that have a priority order. Never was.

But yes, he does hate when they feel like it’s their duty to worry about him, as if they’ve suddenly taken on a chore. No one has the right to be concerned about him, worried about him. Everything he’s done is triple the amount of shit they will ever do in their lives. He’s seen things, lived things, done things that if they knew about, they’d never want to look at him again, much less care about him.

There’s something about being called selfish that somehow incites a rage he can’t quite keep down. He is selfish, certainly, but he didn’t struggle, didn’t sacrifice every single year of his life to get back to his siblings, only for one of them to throw that at his face. He wants to rage back at Diego, throw all of the painful sharp words of glass he's swallowed since this has all started and let loose-explain everything and anything in gruesome detail to really hammer in the shit he's done to get here. But he remains silent, the mere notion of actually, truly, having to reveal the things he went through too much to utter through his own mouth.

He’s selfish, because he’s a monster wearing a human’s skin with the audacity to hope they’ll let him stick around even when his hands are stained with blood.

Simple as that.

Klaus closes in on him, leaning close. “I’ve been meaning to ask…” Klaus murmurs, pointing at Five’s chest, close enough to touch it. “What’s that?”

Five ignores him, looking at a random spot on the wall.

“Who were those guys that followed you? Luther and Diego said they had tactical gear on.” Klaus presses.

And he definitely won’t answer that.

"Come onnnn. Come on come on." Klaus whines, sounding familiar in Five’s ears now. “One or the other, please? For your big bro? Don't you love me?” his brother wheedles, finger touching his chest. “What’s this?”

“The first.” He replies, because what's the point anymore? It isn't as if these secrets he's been guarding have protected his siblings in any way. It hadn't kept any of them safe, and it certainly hasn't salvaged his pride.

Klaus hums, nodding gravely as if any of it makes sense. “And this?” his fingers brush against Five's hair, along the top of his head.

“The second, probably.” Klaus moves his hand to point at Five’s side. “Also the second.”

Klaus tugs on his hand, opening his palm up to reveal unmarred skin.

Five hums in apathetic remembrance. “Both, the first and second, I suppose.” forgot about that.

And then that hand moves to the side of his head.

His lips press together. “The third.”

Klaus nods, peering closer. “This one then, yeah?” He seems confident about it.

Five confirms with a nod back.

“Why?” his brother asks, thumb brushing against the spot above his ear, carefully through brown strands of hair.

He doesn’t answer, instead calmly reaching up to grip that bony hand too tightly, slowly pulling it away. Klaus goes without a fight, allowing his arm to fall back to his side but now his hazel eyes are watching Five in the way that he hates-bright and gleaming and smarter than they let on.

The issue is this: Diego might be right. 

Regardless of bleed-through or memories, there is a very real possibility that Five restarting doesn’t negate that those timelines remain. 

It could be a very real scenario that there is a world where Diego just saw Luther get murdered in cold blood, and then watched his other brother kill himself moments after, somehow expected to move on from that. There could be a world where Five died in the back of a car and they take his dead body back to the mansion where Vanya will have to live with the guilt that not a single sibling will try to take from her. There could be a world in which all of his siblings were buried alive in an underground tunnel.

But Five can’t do anything about it. 

He can barely do anything about the timeline he’s in now, or the loop he’s going through. Luther and Diego fight in the background, their shouts dissolving into fists, with Allison shouting at them and all he can do is think about all of the possibilities where he’s failed.

For him, it was fine to rationalize it. One moment of trauma for his siblings, just a split second and then he starts again. They wouldn’t remember it anyways, only him. That was fine.

But now, his jaw is being metaphorically gripped, forced to look at those scenarios, to look at all of his mistakes at face value. He’s forced to think about it at length. The variables. He hates the variables, he’s always hated doing the variables. So many things to consider, with no clear relativity of success.

It’s the most he’s ever said to anyone about what’s been going on, and he’s been called selfish for it.

“I’m tired.” he murmurs, hollow, not quite realizing he said it all.

Diego stumbles into the end table he previously kicked due to a too harsh shove from Luther, and this time the lamp really does fall, breaking the tension as it crashes on the floor, light flickering and then dying out.

The room grows a little darker.

Klaus pauses, then slowly shifts closer into his space, their sides brushing. A hand carefully settles at his back, in between his always tense shoulder blades. “I’m sure you are.” he says slowly. “Maybe you should go back to bed then, sweetheart.” he suggests, his quiet tone lined with something indistinct.

The subtly implied suggestion has hidden layers of a message: Go back to bed. Rest. The siblings will be handled. No more conversations for right now, under the express condition that there will also be no more guns and no more blades.

Just rest.

Five stares at the rug, tracing the winding vintage patterns with his eyes and ignoring the way Klaus is staring a hole through his armor.

“I can’t.” comes his automatic response.

Klaus clicks his tongue, disapproving. “But maybe you should."

“Well I-”

“Well I- ” Klaus mimics flippantly. “-think, that it’s time for bed.” His eyes are earnest, too painfully earnest to be anything but caring. “Come on Fivey, when I get up, we’ll get some coffee and steal someone's wallet to get some breakfast, alright? I’m all down for a joyride, I’m the cool sibling unlike those guys.” The bargaining that carries just a bit too much desperation on it blends in with all of the other moments with Klaus trying to wiggle his way into Five’s carefully laid plans, desperate for attention, yearning for company-

This…stupid fucking idiot, he can’t fucking-

“Alright.”

Klaus smiles, shoulders relaxing and hazel eyes gleaming, pleased. “Alright~”

And it doesn't mean anything, because Five doesn't really have a choice regardless. Allison's rumor has him locked inside his own body, but Klaus still asked like his choice mattered.

Five wonders if tomorrow will really come.

Chapter Text

He doesn’t sleep.

Of course he doesn’t. There’s too much under his skin, forcing him awake, keeping his brain held hostage. When he first shuffled in he was naive enough to try, lying atop the covers of his childhood bed and staring at the ceiling with his palms rigidly resting over his stomach.  His shoes are still on, the buttons of his blazer are still done up. Stiff. Unwilling to relax.

He closes his eyes for a couple of minutes just to breathe in the dusty air of this ancient room. The quiet. This solace. Just a moment of it is…unbearable.

It’s unbearable when there’s so much to be done-so tempting and right in reach but never something he’s able to have for himself.

Well, it was laughable to think he could even attempt it.

So now he sits, staring out the window contemplatively-it’s getting later in the day.

There had been shouting down in the living room, likely when Klaus had to fight off Diego’s need to charge upstairs to see Five again, but that’s all grown silent by now. Apparently whatever had been discussed was enough for no one to come knock on his door. Some sort of tentative truce made on his behalf-strange.

Yes, strange.

He’s feeling strange. Simultaneously all of his fifty-eight years of age and yet all too young at the same time. If he truly had retained all of his consciousness in this body, it feels like he wouldn’t have made the many mistakes he has made so far. Or is it just because this body hasn’t gone through all of the mental and physical training yet? The crippling exhaustion that breaks one down and rebuilds it to be stronger. It's shattering and reforming with a builder base until the skin is thickened and the heart hardened.

Emotion has been warring against him more and more, and that’s obviously…a bad thing. It’s clouding his judgement. Of course it’s also due to his lack of sleep and the continuous high-stress scenarios, but again-he’s trained for this he’s…he’s supposed to be better.

It’s difficult, being so close.

The texture of the comforter is thin and worn, familiar against his fingers. Five sucks in an inhale, swiveling his legs around and shoving himself to his feet. He rummages around the wardrobe to switch out his blazer and tie for fresh ones, finding the familiar and methodical notions to give him a semblance of comfort.

He could warp out. He could leave right now, and they wouldn’t know. There is no one guarding his door, Klaus seems to have put his full trust in the fact that Five will agree to their shoddy bargain and sleep, to not cause a further fuss by putting his own life in danger.

Stupid. Naive.

Five should take advantage of it.

He should.

But instead his hand is on the knob and he’s walking out towards the stairs, feet leading him back down to the main level. Something about betraying Klaus’s implicit trust…his mouth curls into something derisive towards his own unwillingness. It’s not like he hasn’t manipulated their emotions and trust before, his siblings.

But there’s something…there’s just something about what’s going on this time around. Maybe he’s just tired, too tired to try and battle against the current right now. He steadfastly ignores his heart trying to replay the concerned murmurs, warms eyes, and gentle hands all reaching towards him.

There are voices from the kitchen, low murmurs of a grim discussion taking place, an argument between several different people.

Five frowns as he trails over, stepping inside the room and-

He blinks.

Everyone is here, all of his siblings. 

They’re all sitting around the table, the conversation hushing as they look over at him. Some of them have a drink of choice, Allison and Vanya have their fingers curled around cups of tea and Klaus has an entire bottle of margarita mix he’s clearly been nursing. Luther looks up at Five with his mouth full of a club sandwich, and Diego seems to be holding onto every shred of self-restraint he has to not charge Five with the way his fingers are gripping at the table.

Hm.

No. 

No, he's decided that he doesn’t like this.

“Well there you are!” Klaus greets enthusiastically, green eyes sparkling at the sight of his brother. “Our beloved sleeping beauty, did you have gorgeous dreams?”

Ben frowns, leaning against one of the walls as he stares Five down. Seems like he might still be sore at Five for the whole incident.

Diego grunts, his frown only growing larger as he takes in Five’s perfectly pristine and rigid appearance. Except apparently he’s not convinced because he takes one look at Five’s face and huffs “Nah-look at him, he didn’t sleep at all.”

“I did not.” he agrees as he continues to scan the tells of his siblings’ faces.

“Five, hi.” Vanya’s voice quietly calls to him, her warm gaze like home as she takes him in. “It’s, so good to see you…” her voice trails off, uncertain about what more to say surrounded by everyone in the room. 

It had been brave of her to speak up at all.

“Hi, Vanya.” he murmurs back placidly, unable to wrench away the echoes of softness in his own tone away in time when he addresses her.

Clearly she hears it too because her own demeanor melts a bit more in kind, the barely there smile growing on her face. He hadn’t expected to see her so suddenly, and the sight of all of his family gathered around the table is…

Well, he’s not quite sure.

“Uh-” Luther suddenly stands from his seat, the scraping of the chair too loud for the quiet of the dimly lit kitchen. He winces. “Here-sit!” he enthusiastically offers his seat, gesturing towards it as he steps aside.

Five frowns.

“I’m perfectly fine to stand.”

For some reason, this causes a round of frowns around the table, the disapproval thick in the air.

What is happening here?

Luther looks like a chided puppy, head slightly lowering between those giant shoulders. “Oh, okay, I just thought-” and then he says nothing else, never one to be very good with words.

“You? Thinking?” Diego mutters under his breath, earning a look of ire from Allison.

Klaus hums in flat pity. “Well see, the thing is, we’d like you to sit.” The chipped paint of his nails is so visible as he waves his hand vaguely in the air. “We have to have a-what was it? A tête-à-tête, as it were.”

“No.” Five’s eyes narrow. “Not quite.”

“A tête-à-tête is between two people, idiot.” Ben mutters in agreement and Klaus rolls his eyes because it’s already getting old that he now has two siblings whining their human dictionary terminology at him.

“A tête-à-tête-à-tête-à-tête-à-tête-à-tête-à-tête then!” Klaus exclaims and Five can physically see Luther trying to count each one with the slightly twitch of his fingers, eyes squinting in confusion.

They want to talk? They all want to sit down round robin like this and talk?

“Why.” he challenges.

Obviously he knows why.

There are actually so many things that need to be addressed that it’d be more surprising if they didn’t demand answers from him. But standing here like a lone island against six people staring him down makes Five want to fight instead of go peacefully. He’s not in the mood to be interrogated, even if he has the capacity to talk circles around them.

There's an urge to be difficult and a headache behind his temples-fire in his gut. Maybe that’s something that should be concerning, because never before has he felt inclined to sit down not get straight to business.

Funny how before all he had wanted was this exact scene, all of his siblings gathered around waiting to hear him out. If only they were here for the right reasons.

“What do you mean why?” Diego scoffs. “Man would you just sit the hell down, we really need to hash some stuff out, okay?”

He can’t help but roll his eyes. “I’m not dealing with this without coffee.”

The terms of his conditions are not difficult.

Luther practically jumps at the order, shoving the last of his sandwich in his mouth before heading towards the kitchen counter. “I cangetsomor you!” he promises through a mouth full of bread and ham.

Bizarre.

Five’s sharp eyes slowly follow him for a while before he acquiesces to the previous request. He slowly meanders around the table, taking a seat with rigidly straight posture. Luther’s plate is lightly shoved away from his space with a mild frown, fingers distastefully flicking at some of the crumbs upon the surface. After a moment he rests his hands upon the table, interlocking his fingers as he stares down several pairs of eyes with an expectant sharpness that only he can provide.

Silence.

“Well? ” he demands.

Now that they actually have him here, his family doesn’t actually seem to know what to do with him-like they thought they wouldn’t even get this far. It’s sort of amusing, watching the way they’re internally floundering, seeking passing glances at each other, trying to figure out who is going to speak up.

“This is just sad.” his ghostly brother sighs from the corner.

Five’s mouth twitches, but it stays apathetically straight in disinterest. While they figure out how to communicate through eye glances, Five’s own gaze moves towards the clock on the wall. He runs his tongue along the back of his teeth, contemplative.

Because no, he hasn’t forgotten about a rather important duo that will be on his trail soon. Not now-staring down everyone in the same room.

He needs to keep them safe. A repeat of what happened before can’t happen.

“Speak up now or hold your silence until a later time.” he commands unkindly. “Or maybe forever, it doesn’t much matter to me.”

Diego throws his hands up in exasperation. “Look-” he grinds out, pushing one of them down on the table as he stares down Five. “We wanna-we’re all just gonna talk , alright? To figure this all out.” it’s clear he’s trying to reign himself in, trying to control his temper before it flares out of control.

It’s an unexpected attempt at control and Five can’t help as his eyebrows rise slightly.

Allison straightens, drawing everyone’s eyes over to her. “He’s right. We just want to figure this all out Five.”

Her kind and soothing tone rubs him the wrong way. He wrinkles his nose.

“Fantastic, but you still haven’t actually asked me anything.” he reminds them. “Will this happen sometime this evening, or do you all need some more time to prep your questions and decide who wants to play good cop or bad cop?”

“Five…” Vanya tries quietly. “I don’t think anyone wants this to be like that…we don’t want-”

Apparently though, his sarcasm is all Allison needs to jump right into it, quickly taking charge. “Every time you’ve…gone back in time–it’s because you died?”

Easy enough to answer. “Yes.” Vanya looks sick at his nonchalant answer, even under the warmth of the kitchen light.

She nods. “And you said that this is an eight day loop?”

“Yes. Originally.”

“Originally? So you die from the apocalypse and get sent back here?”

Five pauses. “I didn’t say that.” Klaus hums in intrigue at his response, hazel eyes boring into him.

“Okay.” Allison frowns when he gives no elaboration. "Okay you said, you’ve-died, four separate times, and were taken back to the same time and place.” he eyes flick over to Diego who is sitting tense but silent before those dark eyes are back on him.

“That is what I said, yes.” his sigh is encumbered.

“Why are you looping?”

Wh-

Five blinks, bristles, then leans back in the chair to narrow his glare straight at her. “Well…” he begins calmly with a smile that’s all teeth. “If I knew that answer, then I wouldn’t be here, would I. ”

“But you have a theory.” she isn’t phased by his cutting attitude, staring him down with that doggedly determined gaze of hers.

“I can hypothesize that it has to do with preventing the apocalypse from happening altogether.”

Allison’s face morphs into something conflicted, hesitant to approach this question-like she’s trying to consider his feelings of all things. “Five, you said something about that before…you said the apocalypse-” and she pauses there, of course she does, because it’s clear Allison doesn’t fully believe that the apocalypse is even an existing concept just yet. “You said it was inevitable.”

“I know what I said.” he snaps back, suddenly feeling on edge. “But even the first time around, the apocalypse happened-it still happened. ” It happened despite his best efforts.

But he doesn’t actually know why this is happening, and that’s what’s the worst thing of all. That’s what cuts the skin, what tightens the chest. It’s this unspoken, monstrous, thing , that’s kept him from sleeping, kept him from having a full breakdown-because he doesn’t even know the fucking why of it all.

And if he doesn’t know the why, that means he doesn’t know the how. 

It means he doesn’t know how to fix it.

So of course he doesn’t know-if he did then he’d already be out of this nightmare. He needs to approach with the mentality that there is a variable that can be changed-that something can be fixed so they can all be freed from this because otherwise it might mean-

It would mean-

Diego leans forward. “So, are you positive that when you warped us the first time it wasn’t you that screwed us over and got us trapped in the space time continuum or something?”

He honest to god flinches in his seat, limbs locking up before he even had the foresight to try and mask his emotion. And it’s clear they all noticed from the way Klaus’ eyes sharpen and some of them straighten in their seats, alarmed at the sight of such a visible reaction.

Shit.

“Diego.” Allison warns. “Don’t even start-just-”and somehow that gets under his skin, that's she's trying to defend Five even though it's a perfectly valid question Diego has just leveled.

Luther chooses this moment to break the tension by returning with a steaming mug, setting it down in front of Five without a word. “Let’s continue asking the questions we had.” he urges Allison with a nod, apparently determined not to let this derail like it did last time.

What’s even worse is Diego clenches his fist, takes a large breath, and then deflates in what can only be passive agreement. He actually backs down.

Shit.

Shit!

His throat is tight and his hands retreat from the table to hide under it, clenching them together in a painful embrace. It can’t be him. It can’t be. He can’t be responsible for this-he-

But what if-

“No.” he blurts too loudly into the kitchen. “I-” It’s not. “ No. ” he can hear his voice tense in his throat, a wave of heat prickling over him causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up in anticipation.

“Breathe, Five.” Ben coaxes gently, taking a step forward-

“No-” he throws back petulantly and maybe a little panicky, the chair scraping loudly as he stands. “I’m not doing this.” he barks out in an effort to maintain control, but he’s moving too quickly out of the room-breathing too harshly for it not to be heard by his siblings as he passes.

“Five.” Vanya calls, concern lining every letter of his name.

It aches.

He ignores the ash falling from the rafters and the smoke in his throat as he pushes himself out of the side door and into the damp alleyway.

He needs to do this by himself. 

They can’t get involved. Never again-never again because if he’s truly the one that caused this in the first place then it’s on him to fix it anyways. He always was going to but-but-

He can fix this. 

He has to fix this.

He doesn’t get far staring blankly at the grey sky when the sound of the door and heavy footsteps approach him.

“You didn’t even take a sip of your coffee.” Luther greets him quietly.

Five doesn’t look over to him. “You brew it badly.” he speaks over the lump in his throat and shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

“Hey.” his brother exhales. “Come on, even I know how to make coffee.” it’s light-hearted, an attempt to keep the mood up.

There are words he should say but they never come easy. Once again he finds himself at a loss. Sometimes it feels like all he knows how to do is whip silver and steel off his tongue, piercing and harmful-even to the people he cares so much for.

So, he says nothing at all in an attempt to keep the damage internal.

They stand in the heavy silence for a while but then there’s a heavy sigh and a shuffling of feet. Luther’s giant hand encompasses the entirety of his shoulder, warm, gentle. It feels like home and a prison all at once.

“I’m sorry, Five.” his brother apologizes softly.

He doesn’t understand.

The apology visibly catches him off guard and he almost reels away from it, instead turning to finally look up at his sibling.

“There are plenty of things you should apologize for Luther, you'll have to be specific-”

Luther looks down at him, something deeply remorseful in his eyes. “It was me, right?” he murmurs. “You-you hurt…” he swallows thickly. “You restarted because of me-um, blew on the cartridge.”

Of course they’d eventually connect the dots. It wasn’t as if Five was exactly subtle when he first looped back this time, so sloppy and messy with his emotions falling all over his place and clinging to Luther like a child. But even the reminder of it causes something sharp in Five’s chest and he clenches his jaw to keep him from speaking, or maybe screaming, back at his brother. He sharply inhales through his nostrils, not wanting to even think about how to talk on this particular topic. No, he’d much rather just bury it and be done with this-

“Always so eager to make this about you, Luther?” he sneers meanly even though all the evidence was pointing right to that conclusion. “What does it matter-”

“It matters.” Luther says boldly, cutting him off with such certainty, his eyes hardened. “It matters, Five.”

It knocks the fight right out of him.

Here staring up at him, Luther looks so much like the leader he was always meant to be. Instead of responding, Five takes the moment to memorize the particular shade of pale blue that rests within his brother’s irises.

Luther sighs again. “Okay. It’s...okay, you don’t need to say anything.” It's a kind reassurance, but it’s only because Five knows that his silence already said everything that Luther needed to know. “But, I’m sorry Five. I’m sorry you had to go through that-I’m sorry that…” he trails off awkwardly, hitting his quota of figuring out the right thing to say for the day.

He finds himself shaking his head. “Just stop. I don’t want to hear it.” he steps out of his brother’s hold, always unkind, always cruel.

“But, Five.” Luther says, stupidly adamant. “I’m here now and-”

'But for how long!?' He wants to demand the answer as the question sweeps through his mind hysterically. 'How long before something else takes you away?'

Instead he says nothing.

He says nothing at all.

Chapter Text

Five eyes the grey skies passively, wishing he had a drink in his hand or a cigarette just to have something to wrap his fingers around. Luther is observing him in a way that’s probably meant to be subtle but there’s nothing about the leader of their pack that’s actually been as such. Too blunt, too big, too awkward.

Gentle giant-No, a bumbling labrador is maybe more apt.

“Alright, let's discuss some, immediate issues.” he starts, surprisingly being the first to break the silence. “There are going to be some…visitors, who show up-they’re going to want to take me, or kill me. I suppose it depends on how good my negotiation skills are.” he explains, lightly distracted by a scuff on his shoe.

When there’s no response back after a lengthy amount of silence, he flicks his gaze over to his brother who is just staring back at him with a painfully pinched expression.

“I-What?” The large labrador starts, shaking his head quickly, rejecting his own opener. “No-No, why? What do they want with you?” the real question in the background is obviously ‘what did you do?’ but Five can appreciate the attempt to not outright accuse him.

Luther certainly seems to be trying a more wholesome leader approach this time around, doesn’t he? It’s an interesting turn.

He clucks his tongue in dismissal. “Well, let’s just say they don’t approve of my…intentions to stop the destruction of all life as we know it.”

“...Oh.” Luther says, dumbly. “Um, well, we can, fight. We’re doing this together, right?” and he’s just so earnest about it all, it makes him want to shut the man down just because he can.

Togetherness.

His lips lazily slide upward, something a little lopsided and humoring. “Sure, Luther. If that’s what you want.” it’s said easily to appease and reassure.

To decieve.

It’s not a lie. Not right now anyways…It might be a lie later. He supposes it depends on how things play out. The percentage is high that it’s going to turn into a lie, but his brother doesn’t need to know that. However…damage control should be thought about ahead of time. He really doesn’t have any intention of having his siblings fight.

“Luther, pay attention. Vanya? She needs to be kept safe. These people are not some lowlife thugs you can just throw around. They’re some of the most skilled killers in the-”

“Who needs to be kept safe?” a female voice interrupts the scene, the fair face of Allison coming into view as he turns his head towards the door.

“We’re about to have some visitors.” Five informs her. “And Vanya needs to be kept safe, you understand? They aren’t very polite house guests.” Maybe Klaus too given the man's penchant for avoiding heavy combat-or any kind of combat.

Luther idly scratches at his neck, distracted. “Could you give us a little more to work off of, Five?” he says with growing exasperation. “They’re coming to get you, because of the apocalypse?”

“They believe this event is an inevitable occurrence and that it should not be interfered with.”

Allison crosses her arms, eyes narrowing in thought as she ventures further outside. “Alright. Well how much time do we have before they arrive?”

At least Allison always asks the right questions.

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” he smiles back sweetly. “They usually don’t turn up this early but things have been…picking up speed as of late.”

“...meaning?” she presses prudently.

“Meaning, they could break down the doors as we speak." his smile grows sharp.

Luther seems apprehensive now, looking around as if something in the environment can hand him an answer. “But-we didn’t even get to go over the rules!” his voice is a half-whine, and Five can’t help but raise an eyebrow over it. “And you didn’t drink your coffee and we didn't even-”

“Rules.” Five repeats, voice having suddenly gone flat.

“Yes, Five…rules. We had-we made some rules, to make sure that we were all on the same page about this apocalypse thing, and the stuff you’re doing. We were all supposed to talk and it was going to be civilized and very mature.”

Five frowns. “Well, that’s a novel thought Luther, but rules don’t apply to me, and certainly not ones made by you all..”

A pair of sighs ring out from both of his siblings, Luther throwing his hands up before trudging back inside and Allison staying out to observe him with sharp eyes. They stare at each other, both looking for the weaknesses in each other’s glance. Eventually Allison straightens, her gaze boring into him with a seriousness that can only compel him to listen.

“Why did you want us to listen to you if we’re not even going to work together on this, Five?”

Something in him bristles. It snarls and commands him to bark back, to remind her that he doesn’t actually need any of their help, that they’ve been all but useless to him, that-

“And how do you expect you could even help at this point?” he demands instead. “Or are you just going to prevent me from doing what needs to be done? Because it sounds like at this point you just want to put a leash on me and not actually do anything worthwhile.”

She has the audacity to roll her eyes at him. “We want to help, while also ensuring you stop throwing yourself into danger headfirst because you think that’s the best way to do things.”

“And what would you know about the best way to go about this?” Five can’t help but scoff. “You’re not the one looping.”

There’s a pause.

“Well, we’re not actually so sure about that, are we?”

The statement, the reminder, it sobers the moment instantly. He can feel the way his face closes off, the way his eyes grow cold.

But if they are all going back, how is it happening? Why does he specifically remember everything that’s happened before? It’s clearly not confined to him or even him and his siblings-those guards have been more vicious, using violence quicker and quicker when it comes to capturing him. It almost feels like the atmosphere is adapting to certain changes depending on how things play out and…

And it makes him think that he might need to resort to some drastic measures soon if he can't actually figure out more information on this. If he really has to turn to them, after all this, he has a feeling he's going to be paying for it regardless of if the loops can be solved or not.

No. No he still has time. He doesn't need to turn to that-to them, not just yet.

How many times will he need to die before his mind changes about that? Before he hadn't even considered it an option and now he's...

“Five.” Allison breaks the train of thought and he looks up to find her dark eyes sternly taking him in. “We did make rules, you know. We…we all sat down as a family while you were resting and, tried to get along, for your sake. The least you could do is be completely honest with us. It's like you're not even trying here.”

“The least I cou-" He cuts himself off, too stunned by his own anger at her assumptions. "Listen, Allison. No, really listen. You clearly have no clue what you’re saying, but let me assure you that I have been honest with you. As a matter of fact, any time I’ve tried to be honest with all of you about this situation, you've dismissed me out of turn because you all think I’m insane. So isn't that just swell?” and he started calm but by the end of it he’s talking through his teeth, smiling in a way that’s part sneer and part grimace. "So would you like to continue laying the blame at my feet or-"

“Alright! Alright Five, but this is different. We're listening now.” she argues back, crossing her arms, unafraid to stand her ground. “This time isn't like the others, so would you just come back inside and plan with us? And while you’re at it, maybe you can cool it with the way you're pushing everyone's buttons.”

“Ah, but you all make it so easy-”

“Five.”

He scoffs.

“Isn't that rich, to chide me when you rumored me into submission.” he rolls his eyes, exasperated and already sick of the way she commands space.

“I-” Allison stops, lips parting in offended shock-ah, well there's one of those buttons that's so easy to push. “It’s to keep you safe, because we obviously can’t trust you to take your own safety seriously!”

“Oh come off it-don’t act like this is somehow a selfless act on your part-I’m not one of your little children you can just puppeteer-”

“We did it because we care!” she snaps, eyes dark and thunderous. "You were holding a blade to your skin Five, you were really going to-

“Taking away my bodily autonomy is not a sign of caring, of that I can assure you! ”

"Well unfortunately you'll just have to live with it because this is where we're at!" there it is again, that righteous motherly tone, that superior certainty.

He turns away, rubbing furiously at his forehead and frowning at the perspiration that he wipes away from his brow. Why is he picking fights now when this is what he wanted? He’s feeling, wrong-feeling paranoid. It's like if he takes his hands off the wheel even a little then everything is going to crash. He can’t trust his siblings even though he’d like to-can’t trust them to…to do anything he needs them to do.

He can’t trust them not to get themselves killed.

He can’t trust them not to die.

“This...this is a waste of time. I need to go.” he decides suddenly, needing to get as far away from here as possible before Hazel and Cha Cha show up.

“What? Five!”

No, he really does need to go. He takes a couple steps further out into the grey wash of the outside when-

“I heard a rumor that you can’t leave the estate.”

Betrayal, quick and cutting spears through him as he freezes in place. What? His mind stutters around the confusion. Another one? What? She’s rumored him before, more than once now during the course of these hellish cycles but somehow there’s still-somehow, some way, he still feels betrayed by it. He slowly looks back at his sister, his eyes wide with a certain type of malice that can only come from a blood connection.

Back to back rumors on him. Has she just given up all semblance of restraint at this point? Wasn't she trying to not use her powers like this?

Well isn't he just so fucking special.

Staring down his sister, he can’t help but find a distant sort of amusement that even she looks surprised at her own audacity. “Oh, god. Five, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t-that wasn’t-” she stammers, genuinely looking repentant.

But-

“Take it back then. Right. Now.” he warns her quietly, eerily still as he trails the way she stiffens. "This is far past the point of acceptable."

The silence is far too telling.

“I won’t.” She tilts her chin up and he thinks he might hate her in this moment.

Right. Of course-because what a miracle it would be that Allison doesn't double down on something.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me.” he warns her calmly again. “Take. It. Back.” he repeats, beginning to slowly prowl back towards her.

“It’s for your own good Five. Just give us a chance. Please.”

She’s standing her ground, but Five is a trained killer. He can see the way her dark eyes flick to his face then down to his hands, his gait, back to his face. He can see her inhale a little quicker the next time around, can spy the way her arms tighten in their crossed position-tense.

He stares at her, eyes boring into her own with unrelenting power. “Do you think, that this is a joke, Allison?” he asks, tone deceptively calm.

“You know that I don’t-”

He’s close now, standing in front of her tense form that’s hovering in the doorway. “Well, that’s interesting then. You’re sure throwing your powers around like you think there won’t be any consequences to your actions.”

She shakes her head, a scoff leaving her lined lips. “You don’t actually scare me, Five. We’re family.”

And even though she has signs of nerves, it's clear she means it. It's said with such a confidence-as if she truly thinks that Five wouldn’t knock her the fuck out-as if he hasn’t already attempted to in previous rounds when she’s intervened too far. The implicit trust is strange, it nags at him, unsettles him at the implicit show of good faith when their interactions haven't warranted this certainty.

They’re family. They don’t hurt each other.

His jaw clenches.

“Just undo it.”

“Five, will you please just listen!?” she shifts, a hand moving to her hip, the other throwing itself up in exclamation. “Stay! Please! Stay, and talk with us! Just come back inside and hear us out, and I’ll undo it.” she demands it as if it’s a fair exchange, forced compliance for his free will back. "You can't keep...this isn't going to work if you keep running off."

He should fight this. He should, and he could. Five thinks he could fight it-fight the hold her power has on him. But he's tired, he's off-kilter, and it feels like nothing is connecting in his mind as of late. He's sick of fighting too, but it's like the more this goes on, the more it feels like he won't have a choice in the end.

So he relents for now, if only because fighting will prolong the issue and following along will solve it quicker. At this point it's a race against the clock.

But there's one thing he is certain of at this point, and Five, knowing that this is going to somehow damn him in the future simply mutters out an exhausted, “Well, you’ll only have yourself to blame when this inevitably kills me.” 

He shuffles past her back into the house, leaving her speechless at the door.

Unkind? Yes.

Allison’s power tingles under his skin, he can feel it all too keenly just like he’s aware of his own pool of energy. When he trudges back into the kitchen it seems the band of siblings has dispersed. Klaus is on the table, hand in a bag of salt and vinegar chips with Ben leaning against the far wall, his gaze immediately falling on Five and straightening.

“Hey.”

“Hello.” he mutters, something tight in his muscles unclenching just a little in comforted familiarity.

“You okay?”

Klaus hums. “Well, it doesn’t look like you were lectured to death, so that’s a relief at least.” he observes through a mouthful of chips.

“You made rules that I’m supposed to follow, like a child?” Five demands instead, frowning in displeasure when the siblings share a glance at each other.

Ben meanders closer, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. “It’s not…to demean you or anything. It’s just to-well, you always prefer when they’re parameters in place, don’t you? Isn’t this the same thing? We’re defining our limits.”

“I shouldn’t have limits. There shouldn't be limits.”

Klaus bites into another handful of chips, a loud crunch ringing through the room. “I don’t see what the big deal is, they’re like-they’re nice rules! Good rules. Think of 'em like…guidelines or something. Not nasty ole’ rules to follow.”

“The hell, you’re talking about them now?” Diego interrupts as he pokes his head around the corner, eyes narrowing in suspicion at the stragglers in the kitchen. “No way am I letting you explain this all to him! You don't remember shit, you got the retention of a rock.”

An offended gasp. “Hey! Ex-scuse you! I contributed to the family dialogue!” his dramatic brother immediately laments. “I’m so underappreciated in this familllyyyy…” the man whines, sprawling his entire body upon the table, knocking off a plate, one of his bare feet dangling off the edge.

“Why are you like this, I swear to god every single one of you is messed up in the head-” Diego grimaces with quickly unraveling patience, turning his attention towards Five and raising his hand to menacingly raise his pointer finger and give him a deathly point. “And you. Don't you fuckin’ move Five, you hear me? I’m getting the others. Klaus! Make sure he doesn’t leave again.” Diego barks out, and then he's gone, storming back out of the room while his loud calls for Luther echo down the long hallway.

Five has the most innocent urge to leave the room at this particular moment.

“Heeey, so...” Klaus sighs as he stares up at the ceiling from his lounge on the table. “Can I be responsibly adult-ish for a second? The rules…I mean yeah, they’re rules…boo, right? But-they’re really I mean, I don’t think they’re so bad! It’s mainly like…hey, don’t kill yourself, you’re so sexy!” his hands raise to present jazz hands. “I think that’s a pretty easy one right? I mean-it's just like, most normal people aren't exactly bursting at the seams to just go and, do that so…” he’s smiling but Five can see the way his brother is staring at him from the side of his eye, casually trying to interpret his body language.

Five says nothing.

“So…so that’s not so bad, right?” Klaus carries on louder, hands lowering to rest on his chest as he turns his head to fully stare his sibling down. “I mean-because, you…don’t, yeah? You don’t, you don’t want to…do that." His smile is tight, something a little desperate in his hazel eyes.

Ben is strangely silent, standing like the specter he is at his side.

Five breathes out a slow exhale. “No, Klaus. No, I don’t…I didn’t want that.” he admits quietly in the small space.

The tension in both siblings immediately loosens, a palpable relief lightening the air.

"Well-Well there we go! See?~ One rule down, easy! Like it isn't even a rule at all!"

“What you did…it was brave.” Ben murmurs, looking down at him, dark eyes a mixture of something both sad and fond.

“Brave?" Klaus is pushing himself back up to a sitting position now, chewing on one of his polished fingernails as he stares at Ben in a sharp sort of judgement. "Um, more like-like stupid, am I right?” he scoffs. “So so so stupid. Don't be enabling him Benjamin, see-now I sound like the responsible one in this situation and that's just-not right.”

Five can’t find it in his heart to be offended with the way Klaus is avoiding his eyes, flicking them around the room in frenetic anxiety.

He's a master at identifying weaknesses after all, and panic is just...so terribly easy to spot.

"Actually, as the responsible one, I have to say only like, really stupid people do what you did, Five. And you need to listen to me, as I'm the adult of this conversation.” Klaus insists playfully, but it's clear he's growing more agitated as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “I mean what's that even about? You're the smart one, you're supposed to, be the smart one-” he rambles, immediately growing silent when Five takes a step towards him.

“It was a calculated risk.” he explains firmly, but his voice remains soft-a bit too soft much to his internal dismay. “And it paid off, I was right. I came back here.”

The scoff Klaus snorts interrupts the quiet solace of the conversation. “Oh, of course you were honey, 'course you were. You always are, right?” his sibling assures lightly even as he shakes his head in frustration.

Murmurs and arguments can be heard from wayward halls, signaling the arrival of the remaining siblings soon enough.

“I was.” he can’t help but reiterate.

Klaus goes silent, staring down at his lap. It’s strange when the man goes silent, someone who is perpetually always in motion or running their mouth. Silence and stillness doesn’t suit a spirit like Klaus. When his brother finally looks up to stare Five in the eye with a grim finality, Five finds himself oddly rooted into place.

“Listen.” his brother starts with much more of a serious intensity than before, and Five remains silent as Klaus slides off the table, padding closer without breaking eye contact. “Look, hey, uh, please, if you…if you care about me at all, Five, please don’t ever-” and to Five’s horror, Klaus can’t seem to finish his sentence, voice growing tight with some sort of emotion that deprives him of air and eradicates the rest of his sentence. He’s so surprised that he doesn’t say a word when a hand gently rests on his shoulder, slowly moving up to cradle the side of his neck.

The neck: a weak point, a window of submission, an indicator of life-

Hazel eyes bore into him with a plea for mercy. The stream of information on pressure points, ways of the hand, and the calculation of the perfect angle to subdue, quiet as quickly as it came on.

“Please, Five, okay? You know what I'm trying to say right?" a choking laugh, so small and urgent. "I just-please don’t ever do that in front of me. I really don’t care you know? I don't care if it-if it could fix anything, or everything. I don’t care if it could save the whole damn world-I can’t-I just-I can’t okay? I mean you get that, don't you? Of course you do, you're-you're smart, yeah?” his brother’s voice is wobbling all over the place, trying to beg for something that he likely knows Five can’t agree to. "Because none of that stuff, none of that mumbo jumbo means anything to me okay? But-But if I had to see you-" another break that ends in a shaking, shuddering exhale, Klaus can't finish.

He feels his jaw clench and something sharp squeeze his heart. His hand rises unconsciously, latching onto that wrist that’s cradling the pulse in his neck. Five squeezes.

And...he’s sorry. He’s-he’s really sorry. If Five were on the other end of this, and he had to watch any one of his siblings…even with the knowledge that they could come back-

His fingers tighten around that bony wrist with a pressure that’s likely far too tight, but he feels helpless because...

Because there's all of this, the proof that he is cared for, and loved and...he still can’t fucking promise Klaus he won’t do that. He can’t.

He can't.

Instead, he allows his grip to loosen, just holding for as long as he can manage-for as long as the moment can stay this way.

The promise never comes. Was Klaus really hoping Five would promise it? Did he really believe it was possible or did he know that...that Five cannot change his nature? This disgusting, miserable, nature that compels him to continue onwards, to always fight or follow through regardless of the cost. Hideous. It's hideous.

And he can't protect Klaus from this, not if in the end it would end up saving Klaus-saving the others.

Is it better that Klaus already knows this of him? Understands that no matter what, his brother is a lost cause? Or is it better that Klaus believes that Five is capable of this kindness? To spare his brother simply because it has been asked of him? If only things could be so black and white, so simple.

The apology falls from his lips like tar.

"Klaus. I'm, sorry." he apologizes, his own voice solemn in a way that almost makes him unrecognizable to his ears.

Apologies aren't ever handed out if he can help it. Not ever. But in this moment, in this tiny space of the kitchen, with the hum of the light above them, and a bag of half-eaten chips...with a warm hand trying to track signs of life, and a desperate pair of eyes that only speak of true care...an apology seems like a paltry thing to offer.

It's as if a heart has been presented, and in return he's offered a dagger, and a small handkerchief to wipe up the blood once the bleeding inevitably occurs from the damage cold steel does to delicate flesh.

Eventually the sound of footsteps grow too close, the voices too loud. Klaus swallows as he draws back, smiling at Five kindly even though there’s defeat there too-he knows, he knows there’s no guarantee. Yes, he knows of Five's nature.

Unable to keep his self-disgust at bay, he averts his eyes to avoid the smile his brother is attempting to paste back onto his face, staring fixedly out the window.

Ben's quiet presence sidles closer to him, a hand moving out to gently brush against his back.

For a moment, Five swears he can feel the press of that palm seep through the fabric and warm his skin.