Work Text:
Five seethed, teeth gritted, stomping down the corridor, hands curled into fists.
Thump-step, thump-step, thump-step.
He didn’t know what day it was, didn't know what year it was, and he sure as hell didn’t give a fuck what time it was. This was the fifth? Sixth apocalypse? He didn’t know anymore. There had been so many . Apocalypse, Commission, apocalypse, sparrow academy and apocalypse, apocalypse, apocalypse- and every time something had gone wrong. Always something had gone wrong- whether he worked alone or with his siblings, Vanya was always the bomb- accidental or on purpose, alive or dead, they all were the bomb. They would always start the apocalypse and so Five was left with a fuse that was always lit as he jumped frantically from timestream to timestream, trying to put it out, like some hellish looney toon bullshit.
Thump-step, thump-step, thump-step.
And here he was, limping along from an injury, going to save his siblings from certain doom yet again.
Five turned a corridor and fired, not bothering to look at the man who dropped. He didn’t even know his purpose anymore. Save his family? Stop the apocalypse? Keep them alive? He’d reversed time so many times, hopped from timeline to timeline, killed dear old Dad in a few of them, nearly killed his siblings in a few others... they’d picked up Ben again, somewhere along the way, when he’d tried to go back in time to before he’d disappeared. That had failed. He’d dropped in just in time to see an unstoppable alien invasion roasting the planet alive (which the fuck ) and then he’d warped back to save the rest of them.
Yes, so sue him, he was still having trouble getting all of everyone in the right place at the right time- their handy briefcase had been destroyed somewhere around the third time, thanks Klaus.
Thump-step, thump-step, thump-step.
He was just so tired. Tired of trying and trying and trying, tired of losing sleep, tired of killing, tired of losing his fucking mind-
Another person, yelled, rushing out of a door, the bang of a gunshot, and they slammed into the opposite wall and slid down, blood smearing the wall. Five grimaced with distaste as he dropped the now empty handgun and wiped at the blood splattered across his face, staring down at his glistening red hand.
How many times?
How long?
He’d said he wanted to stop, he’d said he wanted to never kill someone again, but that didn’t seem to be what the universe wanted from him. So what did it want? Please, someone just tell him so that he could end this.
He’d tried being good. He’d tried not killing others. In fact, the only time anything had even gone right was when he was killing for the Commission (so long ago now). Five stopped, just outside of the next room, looking back down at his hand.
He’d spent this entire time trying to do the right thing, trying to be good for his family. But where had that got him? After all, he had been repressing the only thing he was actually good at.
Thump-step, thump-step, thump-step.
The room stilled, the buzz of the lights humming in the back of his brain, heartbeat pounding loudly in his chest as the world righted itself.
He'd made up his mind.
Five pushed open the door, euphoria swelling as he found himself facing thirty or so agents with their backs turned to him, their attention on his siblings crowded by the far wall, cornered, hands raised, desperation and terror on their faces at the standoff. They were facing predators in a jungle with the odds stacked against them.
Impossible odds.
For normal people.
But he was fast.
Too fast.
Five grinned, teeth sharp.
He was going to embrace it.
They'd seemed to realize he’d arrived, turning to fire, but he was already long gone.
Five popped into existence on the far right of the room, grabbing a gun and laughing wildly, just long enough for them to see him, to turn and fire, missing him by mere centimeters as he vanished back into the mysteries of spacetime.
He popped up on the left, spitting through gritted teeth, "I am in the jungle and I am too fast for you." He fired a spray of bullets and then was gone again as they turned, some screaming with terror and others with pain. They’d fired on their own men by accident. Good.
He reappeared on a man's back and hooked the strap of the gun around his neck twisting, tighter and tighter as the man clawed frantically at his purpling neck, veins popping. Five tightened his grip, snarling, "You have teeth and stripes and things that tear . But I am much too fast," he vanished as the soldiers took care of their choking friend with more than a few clips of frantic and carelessly fired bullets.
Five threw himself at another solider, kicking the back of his leg in before disappearing again. He popped up next to Diego who startled, cursing, "Shit- Five warn a guy-“
Five tore a knife from one his brother's holsters and then vanished again, slamming into the side of a soldier as he reappeared. He sliced down, ripping open another vortex across space and time as blood sprayed.
He popped up again next to a different man and in one fluid movement, sliced downwards opening arteries, ducking the blow from another soldier who uppercut his own dying comrade. Five sliced outwards again, opening up the stomach and intestinal cavity of the man who tried to strike him as he laughed, "You want my flesh but you don’t know where the jungle is. Only I know where the jungle is- only I know!”
Five whirled, chest heaving as he grinned, furious, burning with a wrath that seemed to consume him, like a fire eating at his very being, burning white hot and too bright to look at. He vanished again as bullets tore past him.
His chest was aching with exertion, breath harsh and fast. His limits were coming up fast. But fuck that . He was invincible . Unstoppable ! Why had he ever tried to be something other than this? This was what he was good at- this was where he excelled .
Another slice, he twisted the arm of a man and snapped his wrist with quick efficiency. The man howled and Five thrust the knife into his neck, once, twice, three times before letting him drop, turning to face the other side of the room.
A bullet grazed his cheek and he threw himself backwards into spacetime.
He reappeared above the man who'd shot and fell on top of him, grabbing his gun as they crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs, shouting, "I am a gazelle!" as he twisted and shoved the barrel against the soldier's face. The man's shriek cut off as Five pulled the trigger.
Five yanked the strap of the gun off of the dead man's limp hand and pushed himself to his feet warily, hardly taking notice of the brain matter, guts, and gore that coated him red.
He surveyed the room, taking in the slumped and bloody bodies.
The highly trained agents were all dead.
Five smiled and the smile turned into laughter, the thrill of victory in his veins. His family stared at him (in concern? Horror? Fear, perhaps? Good. They should be afraid) and Five laughed , hysterical, high on adrenaline, blood dripping from his fingers as he raised them up in triumph, " I am a gazelle and the jungle is my home! "