Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Diego awoke to an empty bed and his brother trying to unlock the window with shaky hands, the pale moonlight washing over him and bathing him in a dim white light. Diego sat himself up, rubbing at his eyes as he watched Klaus curse and fumble with the latch.

“Klaus?” He kept his voice low, risking a glance towards the other two sleeping in the room, Five would kill them if they woke him up, hormones and a lack of moral compass aren’t something Diego likes to see paired together (if he was being honest he just didn’t like middle schoolers in general). Klaus hummed from where he was, the fumbling slowing down only a slight bit - better than nothing, he supposed. “What’re you doin’ man?”

Klaus lifted his hand, shooting Diego a dismissive wave over his shoulder. “Ghoulies are being obnoxious again,” Diego pushed the blankets to the side, the unpleasantness of the morning air becoming more apparent to him by the second. “So I’m just gonna go on a walk, if they want this ass they’ll have to work for it, y’know?”

He can’t say he had experience with ghosts wanting to fuck him, no.

“I’ll be back in like,” Klaus rolled his shoulders, tilting his head up towards the ceiling with a frown “four? Yeah, four hours.” He waved at Diego again, the lock on the window still stuck and Klaus seemed to be getting more and more frustrated with the lack of movement. “Four is a good number.” Klaus mumbled, if it was meant for himself or a ghost, Diego didn’t know.

“I’m more of a fan of two.” Klaus huffed out a laugh, batting at the empty space next to him. His eyes were unfocused and he had a slight sway to him. Diego sighed, Klaus usually got like this when he was high. “I’ll go with you.”

Klaus rocked back on his heels, drumming the fingers of his ‘Hello’ hand against his upper thigh with an expression Diego couldn’t quite place, “I’m not high,” he said, his voice resigned and soft “I’m just…” he turned back to the window, deft fingers fiddling with the cold iron lock. “I’m just tired.”

Diego felt something in him soften, something that felt vaguely like guilt washing over him as he looked Klaus over. He’s seen Klaus at some of his worst moments; high off his balls, curled up in jail cells, in the hospital from an overdose. But he never seemed affected by anything, always carrying a bright and bubbly energy to him that never seemed to falter.

Diego, despite knowing him for an odd thirty, had never seen his brother act vulnerable.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing the jacket hanging from the chair in the corner of the room. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go with you,” He ran a hand through his hair, lightly pushing Klaus away from the lock and taking a knife to the frosted metal. “Out of everyone here I think I like your company most.”

“Ooh, is that a compliment Di?”

He rolled his eyes, lightly flicking Klaus’ forhead and ignores the quiet curses being shot at him, “Not anymore it isn’t.” The lock clicked open, “Let’s go ghost-boy.”

Sure, there’s the slight chance that walking around alley-ways in the middle of the night with his ex-drug addict brother may not have been the best of ideas, but Klaus was hard to say no to.

(It is also now horribly, and very apparent to Diego that his defense is dumb and he probably should have tried convincing Klaus that going on walks in dark alleys wasn’t a good idea and that they should just stay home, make some hot chocolate.

Klaus still likes hot chocolate, right?

He better, cause that’s the only thing Diego knows the bastard actually likes.)

Glancing at Klaus from the corner of his eye, he promised that yes, he would in fact make him some hot chocolate after they got home—being held at gunpoint by several men couldn’t be all too good for children (because Diego refuses to believe that Klaus is now older than him — the man still looks like he’s fucking 21 and he’s over here telling Diego that he’s the little brother? Bullshit).

The main gunman was saying something about either money or sex (not that Diego really cared) while Diego focused on getting the others to take their gazes off him so he could kill them already. He nudged Klaus with his foot, tilting his head to the men surrounding them, darting his eyes down to his pockets. 

Klaus nodded, fingers twisting into the fabric of his coat (was that Luther’s coat? They honestly needed to get Klaus his own clothes, the only people that he could actually steal from and have it not hang off him is Five and Viktor — something vaguely worrying but he’ll address that problem another day)

“If you wanted to get laid you should try not holding people at gunpoint,” The monologuing dude shut up, his gaze snapping towards Klaus. “Like I’ve done some weird shit but like, consent is always sexiest when it’s not forced, y’know. There’s something more intimate about both people wanting something,” Klaus looked over the dude’s shoulder, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “Not like you’d understand, anyway.” Diego’s hand inched toward his knives, keeping his gaze on the gun barrels pointed towards them.

“Oh yeah, and what’do you know Pretty Boy?” Klaus laughed, dropping his hands behind his back. Diego wrapped his hand around the handle of his knife, the men were still focused on Klaus, the barrels of their guns dipping the slightest bit.

“Not to brag or anything but, I’m pretty popular among-” he paused, clicking his tongue, “a whole lotta people.” Klaus looked the talker up and down, a mocking smile on his face. “I’d be more okay with the whole gun thing if you were at least somewhat attractive.“

The man made a gesture to the others, and Diego took his chance, throwing out his arm and hitting two of the men in the chest. The main gunman startled, pressing the trigger and the barrel shot- the bullet hit the pavement with a bang and Klaus darted forward, grabbing the man's arm and twisting .

Diego felt his breath stutter for a moment, dread heavy in his gut as he watched his little brother wrestle for a gun. The knife lay heavy in his hand as he watched the man go down, Klaus wrenching the gun from his grasp and kicking at his chest.

Klaus shot him a smile, raising the gun to aim somewhere behind Diego. There was a thud from behind him, the last man falling with a bloody hole in the middle of his head. Diego let out a breath, “didn’t know you could shoot.”

Klaus dropped the gun, bouncing on his feet as his eyes darted about the empty space around them, “I’ll tell you about it later.” He kicked his foot, watching as a pebble rolled down the alleyway, “We got hot chocolate?”

☂

Five got a lovely total of six hours before the smell of hot chocolate and a burst of cold wind woke him. He sat himself up with a sigh, ignoring the slight shivers that ran through his body. 

Klaus and Diego were gone, the sheets of their bed shoved aside. Dumbasses would sneak out but they couldn’t even be bothered to close the goddamned window. He spent 45 odd years trying to save their asses and this is the thanks he gets?

Children, the lot of them.

Five rolled to the floor, bouncing on his toes as the shock of the cold wood slowly faded.

The kitchen wasn’t much warmer than the bedroom was—heating wasn’t something this shithole had, apparently. Klaus was sitting on the table, periodically yanking up the sleeves of the oversized coat he had on, a steaming mug in hand (why Klaus insisted in stealing literally everyone’s clothes he doesn’t know, but if he wakes up to find his fedora missing this families gonna be down another member).

“If you guys wanna sneak out, at least close the window behind you.” Five brushed past Diego, starting the coffee pot. Diego huffed, and passed a mug of—hot chocolate? To Klaus.

Klaus shot Diego a smile, took a sip, and immediately burned his tongue.

“You are an actual child.” Five muttered, rolling his eyes as Klaus flapped a hand at him. Five leaned over and took the mug from Klaus (and ignored the hands swatting at him), made sure to look him in the eyes, and he blew on the hot chocolate.

Klaus, in a moment of maturity, stuck his tongue out in return. 

After spending decades in the end of everything, Five didn’t know what he expected to come back to. Part of him hoped that his family had managed to mature at the same rate as him, leave their childish tendencies behind and grow up. But there was always that small voice in the back of his mind that hoped (prayed, really) his siblings stayed the same.

That small voice hoped that when he came back, his siblings would still be his siblings. 

The coffee still wasn’t done, Klaus was still on the table, and Five found that that small voice that persisted for 45 years was quiet for the first time. Diego shoved a mug (why did they even have Sparrow Academy merch?) into his hands, saying something to Klaus that he didn’t catch. Five looked at him, and caught sight of something vaguely blood-like on his shirt.

Five raised a brow, flicking his gaze up and down until Diego got the hint. A vigilante who doesn’t know how to clean up after himself, it’s a wonder he never got arrested.

“Oh shit, Klaus, why didn’t you tell me I had blood on me man?”

“I did! When we were on our way there, remember?”

“Bro there was nothing on me on our way there, I still don’t know what you were talking about.”

Klaus looked over Diego’s shoulder, his brows furrowing a bit. “Oh wait, forgot you guys couldn’t see that.” He shrugged, shooting Diego a smile. “Sorry babes.”

Ghost shit was Five’s guess, and he tuned out the conversation from there. The others’ powers he could somewhat understand, but Klauses? Hard to understand something that only one person could see (and up until recently—or not at all recently—said person was blocking that ability).

The coffee machine beeped, “So where did you dumbasses go anyway?” He interupted whatever Klaus was saying, grabbing the handle of the pot. Five hissed as coffee splashed over the rim of the mug and hit his hand. Fucking Sparrows and their weak mugs. 

“Eh, just on a walk,” Klaus moved to grab a hand towel, grabbing Five’s hand and dabbing at it. “Met some lovely men with guns, had a razzle dazzle, and came back.” 

Five rubbed at his hand, frowning at Klaus as he tried to make sense of the words that came out of his mouth. “You guys got mugged?”

Diego laughed, the sound a good ten decibles too loud for the early morning. “Nah, turns out ghost-boy over there is good with a gun.” Klaus nodded, sitting back on the table with a mumbled danke (why Klaus insisted on sitting on the table Five didn’t know, none of the chairs were taken).

“Hm.” Five sipped at his coffee, leaning against the counter as he observed his brothers.

“Where’d you learn the whole gun thing anyway, man? Doubt there were any dealers willing to teach you on the streets.” Klaus snorted, a hand drumming patterns on his chest.

“You guys remember that time I was kidnapped?” Five paused, wracking his head for the event (“Your pals, when they broke into the house and they couldn't find you, they took me hostage instead.”), and pressed down the unwelcome feeling bubbling in his throat.

Diego raised a brow, “when did you get kidnapped?”

“When those masked guys broke into the academy. They took me hostage, we had a lovely playdate that involved some not at all agreed upon sadism, and your lady cop showed up and cut me loose.” Klaus frowned, tugging at one of his ringlets as his gaze wandered the room. “Coulda sworn I told you about that.”

Diego opened his mouth, an expression that Five couldn’t quite place forming on his face. “Eudora?” Was all he said, and Klaus nodded.

“Yeah, sorry about her.” Diego shrugged, “But yeah, I got out, stole their briefcase, and went to Vietnam.”

Five’s breath caught in his throat, “Vietnam?” He asked (it was fruitless to hope, but Five prayed that now of all times Klaus was joking), voice smaller then he would have liked it.

Klaus sighed, a small smile forming on his face that Five couldn’t say he liked, and looked at Five (and for once in his life, Five found himself unwilling to meet his little brother's eyes). “Mhm, ‘Nam. Fell right into the lap of a very attractive farm boy, got a few tattoos,” Klaus pulled down the collar of the stolen jacket, “173rd AIRBORN BRIGADE” was printed above a skull and Five felt his breath halt, body tensing as he stared at Klaus and oh fuck - “made a few friends—hey I wonder if they ever figured out if I was from the future. Fivey, babe, what would happen if they figured that out?”

He killed his little brother.

Chapter Text

The first thing Five noticed about his most recent assignment was how annoyingly specific it was. During his brief two months in the Commision, every slip of paper he was handed only had at most four words; less constraints meant it was much easier to eliminate targets without worrying about the logistics of everything.

The second thing he noticed was that they gave him a target that shared the same name as his little brother. Probably a test, if Five had to think logically about it—prove to the Commision that he was willing to kill anyone they asked him to, no matter the affiliation or familiarity he may have with them. 

(Five decidedly ignored that voice in the back of his head that insisted it was his Klaus, his baby brother, that he was told to kill)

Fucking beurocrats and their overly specific vagueness. They didn’t even give him a description of the target, just ‘Eliminate Klaus Krause, Hill 937, 1969’. Whoever named the kid must’ve gotten a kick out of the alliteration, not that Five was complaining. Their love of pronunciation made his target that much easier to find. 

Krause was easy to spot once Five made his way to a lookout point (he was almost surprised no one spotted him—every man in the camp seemed to be on edge, and Five caught a few of their gazes from the branch he was perched on, but Darlac provided enough cover that his unfriendly presence went relatively unnoticed), every soldier in the brigade seemed at least somewhat familiar with the man.

That familiarity made his job both that much harder and that much easier. The man was easy to find, but people would notice if Krause died, even if it was in a battle (Five tried to remember what he read about Vietnam, history was always Klauses area, not his; but if Five was being honest he doubted Klaus ever picked up a history book, just heard tales from his ghost pals and recited them to Reginald). 

The 173rd weren’t stupid, if they managed to scan Krause over they might notice a killing shot from behind. And if they noticed that there was a possibility they would suspect a spy or such in their ranks, and that would alter the timeline in a way Five doesn’t want. So the best choice he had was to find a vantage point from the Viet Cong’s side.

Fucking beurocrats.

Five drummed his hand against the branch he sat in, he had 36 hours before the brigade left for Hill 937 and he wasn’t enjoying his surveillance of the lot. Krause was stationed as a lookout, and from the few days Five had already been here, his target seemed to be one of the most alert on post.

He’d be annoyed if he wasn’t impressed, he lost count of the amount of times Krause looked in his direction with a raised brow and a smug smile on his face. Brat didn’t even see him as a threat, never bothered raising his gun and instead chose to wave at him. Fucking wave. Five never bothered waving back, he just stared at Krause until the man looked away and Five was safe to blink to another location.

(Five ignored the sharp pang of grief that came with those small interactions, this Klaus reminded him of his own and he thinks he knows why the Commision decided to test him this way.

His siblings were the only things he had left, the only things he could fight for now that he lost Delores. Even before he ran away, before the apocalypse and before Klaus began his dive into addiction, Five always saw it as his job to keep his siblings safe.

Not that he actually bothered to do so most of the time, but the sentiment was still there for him. And it grew every time Klaus or Ben or Viktor allowed him to barge into one of their rooms and rant about how Reginald never took him seriously.

He’d never say it outloud, but fuck , if he didn’t miss them.)

Five settled his back against the trunk of yet another tree after Krause spotted him—again—when a man left his tent to join him. Katz, maybe? The two of them seemed to spend an awful amount of time with each other, which was another thing that Five had to worry about, Krause was hardly ever alone. 

Katz leaned down to whisper something to Krause, sharing a small grin with the man before pushing him back towards the tent. A watch switch that Five was grateful for, Katz didn’t seem to be as alert as Krause was during the night. So Five leaned back, and didn’t bother to close his eyes as he waited for the battle to commence.

Five couldn’t say he was a big fan of Đồi A Bia, or of his current surroundings in general. Every few seconds he had to bat at mosquitos and flies that wouldn’t leave him alone, not to mention the fact that the mud had ruined his shoes and the cuffs of his pants. The Commision wouldn’t have any problem replacing them, but it just added to his steadily building annoyance at this mission.

He set himself up high in the trees, leaning on his elbows as he observed Krause through his scope. This battle was part of the second phase of Operation Apache Snow, the overall goal of it was to lead to the eventual destruction of PAVN Base Areas near the A Sầu Valley, so that meant Five had to be careful with who he hit. One wrong death could lead to a whole other timeline being formed against his will.

Five took a breath, and centered Krauses head through his scope (he ignored the fact that his target shared a remarkable resemblance to the brother he buried 45 years ago and that voices steadily rising volume), and took the shot.

He stayed in that position for longer than he should have, observing how Katz looked over to Krause and how a look of terror formed on his face. Katz didn’t drop his weapon, he just stared at the body of his friend before looking over his shoulder (someone yelling at him to resume fire, was Five’s guess) and shaking his head. Katz looked up to where Five was perched,

And Five took his leave.

☂

Diego rubbed at the bridge of his nose, a disbelieving laugh escaping him, “ you , went to Vietnam?” Ouch, Klaus knew he was hard to believe at, well literally all times of the day, but he has his moments of honesty (He has a lot of moments of honesty, Diego may not know it, but he does).

“Babe we’ve been over this!” Klaus laid back on the table and threw his hands up, almost hitting his mug of hot chocolate (Would’ve been a shame if it got knocked over, he liked hot chocolate). “The Masked guys had one of those briefcases, I took it, ended up in the A Sầu Valley for a nice tenner, and came back.”

Diego looked at him (it was either the ‘are you high?’ or ‘do you wanna talk about your trauma?’ look, but Klaus could never tell), and nodded with his brows furrowed. “So you came back after ten months?” Klaus nodded, silently applauding Diego for his phenomenal listening skills. “Why didn’t you just come back immediately, if you had the briefcase?”

Klaus hummed, his eyes roaming around the room and passing over the dozens of corpses crowding the space until he met Diego’s eyes. He didn’t actually know why he stayed in the first place. It was the first time in his life without Ben by his side, without a single face he was familiar with in a fifty mile radius.

In any other instance, he would’ve taken one look around (one look at the ghosts of men with their faces burnt off, limbs detached and guts trailing on the floor) and left. 

But in any other instance, he wouldn’t have met Dave.

So Klaus did what he did best, “Good question mi hermano.” And avoided the question entirely. “Anyway, Five you never answered my question. So what’re the potential effects of time travel being realized decades too soon?” Five didn’t say anything, he either left or was staring at Klaus creepily.

Klaus turned his head towards Five, it was the second option.

“Five?” Klaus narrowed his eyes, propping himself up on an elbow. Five may be good at ignoring him but he was better at being persistent.

Probably.

“Fiverino? Fivey? Cinco? Five-o-clock Shadow? Nickel?” Diego huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Bro, the dudes zoned out. Don’t think any of your nicknames are gonna get through to him.” Diego said, walking over to where Five was and poking him in his shoulder. Hah, fucker also couldn’t get the old man’s attention. Diego frowned, and grabbed Five’s shoulders, shaking him. Five’s gaze snapped over to Diego for a second before settling back on Klaus.

“You good babe?” Klaus swung his legs over the table, and Five tensed up. If the old non-spandex loving Ben were here, he’d probably be telling him to leave Five alone. 

Too bad that the old Ben isn’t here, much like Klauses critical thinking.

Klaus took a step towards his older brother, and Five immediately blinked out. He shared a look with Diego,

“What’s got his panties in a twist?”

Chapter Text

For the past week and a half Five has been ignoring Four. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle about the fact, and that led to Allison being stuck playing telephone for her brothers.

Klaus has been going up and down the hallway every three hours for the past four days and popping his head into her and Viktors room to ask the same question he’s asked since his cognitive thinking kicked in.

 Do you know what I did to make Five mad?”

And every time Allison would give a response along the lines of “No, he’s socially awkward on his best days, why would he willingly choose me to confide his feelings to.” Viktor didn’t say much after Klaus popped in for the sixth time, usually sticking to small shakes of his head or fully leaving the room and leaving Allison to deal with Klauses kicked kitten look.

But, for the past week and a half Five has also been blinking into whatever room she’s in with the same goddamned question on his tongue, “is Klaus around here?” 

And every time, she’d answer with some variation of, “Klaus leaves this shithole for hours at a time and doesn't tell anyone where he’s going, why would I know where he is.” Which resulted in Five glaring at her before he went to annoy one of the others into helping him with his game of keep away.

At first it was vaguely amusing, but then it quickly turned to worrying as Klaus grew visibly more upset each time he popped in. Allison couldn’t say she liked when Klaus got upset (be it due to the fact she’s a mother or the fact that he rarely lets himself be seen as anything other than happy), and was three hours away from dragging Five by the ear to get him to act like the adult he insists he is.

So when Five knocked on the doorway to get her attention, fifteen minutes before Klauses three hour interval, and asked yet again, “is Klaus here?”

Allison responded, “He just left like, ten minutes ago.”

And Five sat down.

☂

It took Five three minutes to realize that Allison left the room and another two to realize that the rest of his family began filtering in, Allison nowhere in sight. But Diego, the ever dramatic bastard, was; and decided to collapse onto the already unstable couch next to him with a heavy sigh.

“You know what this meetings about, old man?” Diego asked, cracking his neck (Five hated when any of his siblings did that—hearing that sickening crack come from such a vulnerable place did nothing to soothe his mind).

“I wasn’t aware there was a meeting.” Five looked around the room Viktor was sat on the floor, trying to bond with the cat that only seemed to like Klaus. The second Five went too close to it, the prissy little shit tried to jump at his throat and had the gall to run to Klaus as though Five was the one who attacked it.

(Not that what the cat thought of him mattered, he was more of a dog person anyway. No, what mattered was the possibility Klaus might think Five was hurting something he cared about, and by extension, hurting him)

Luther snorted when the cat tried to jump Viktor’s foot and managed to throw itself into the couch facefirst instead. “Yeah, Allison didn’t really tell us anything. Just that there was an important family meeting to be had.” Five clicked his tongue, if Luther didn’t know what it was about then he didn’t think that the rest of his siblings would, either.

This better not be an intervention about alcohol, Delores started her attempts to get him to quit by the time he was twenty-two. Five loved her to death, but he’d rather chug a bottle of bleach and piss than sit through an intervention.

Another three minutes passed until Allison returned with Number Four in tow, “Good,” she dragged Klaus over to Five, shoving him down non-to gently next to him. “Now that we’re all here, who want’s to start?”

Five saw Viktor and Luther exchange a glance, One shrugged his shoulders and nodded over to Diego and Viktor just sighed and clicked his tongue (Five did not know what ever the fuck that exchange meant, and he didn’t care to try and decipher it). 

“Yeah, okay, I’ll start.” Allison nodded, gesturing to Viktor to continue. “Diego needs to stop wearing his knives everywhere, it’s a miracle we haven’t gotten banned from anywhere yet.”

Diego let out a laugh, waving one of the afformentioned knives around. “If I can’t wear my knives then Klaus can’t smoke indoors, take it or leave it.” Klaus startled at the mention of his name, his eyes going in and out of focus as he looked in Diego’s general direction.

“Leave it,” Five bit his tongue, observing the way Klaus seemed to curl into himself. “Diego can keep his kinky coping mechanism and I can keep mine, dealio?”

Diego rolled his eyes, “It’s not a coping mechanism.”

“But it’s not not kinky then, I gotcha babe.”

“That’s decidedly not what I was hoping for,” Five glanced over at Allison, maybe she should’ve just started with what she wanted to say instead of inviting conversation. “I called this meeting to talk about whatever’s going on between Klaus and Five.”

Five felt Klaus tense beside him, “Well, meeting adjourned because there’s nothing going on between us.” He blipped to stand in near the doorway, doing his best to avoid looking at the way his little brother seemed to curl into himself even more. “Thanks for the waste of time, but I have important things to do.”

Five let his hands warm, scanning his mind for the best place to blink to. The library? Maybe, it might be too obvious, not to mention close by. The bar was out of the question, his physical appearance would make it difficult to blend in. Maybe that small café down in Queens is still around, that would be worth a trip.

No, that place closed down before they arrived in this timeline- “Are you mad at me, or something?” -Maybe that old Italian place Delores liked? Five paused, looking over his shoulder.

“Pardon?”

“I mean, like, you’ve been avoiding me for a hot second there babe,” Klaus blinked, shivering as a ringlet blew into his face. Five frowned, there weren’t any windows open, and Viktor didn’t seem to be in any kind of emotional turmoil. “Did I do something to make you mad? Cause if I did I’m sorry, but I just wanna know what it is I did wrong.”

It was October 4th , they had recently turned ten, and Klaus was back from his special training.

He usually didn’t stay out later than one in the morning, but dawn had already broken by the time Five heard Klaus stumble into the room below his with steps that felt a touch too audible to be Klauses. 

The two of them had made a routine of sorts when it came to their special trainings. Klaus would bring Five food from the dinner he missed when he had to train, and in return Five would wait up for Klaus to come back from wherever their Father took him during the night.

(Part of Five was irked by this arrangment, by the fact everytime Klaus brought him food Klaus also saw him in one of his most vulnerable states, limbs heavy from the exhaustion of manipulating the fabric of space and his vision swimming with everything he didn’t want to see. That vulnerability left him helpless, and fully reliant on Klaus to protect him if anything went wrong in the short period he was out.

There were only two benefits that came from this arrangement he could think of, someone knowing where and what he was doing in case Five collapsed in the middle of training, and a warm embrace to fall into at the end of everything)

Five sat up in his bed, counting in his head until he reached an appropriate loop of numbers before stepping onto the floor. Klaus would usually come into him after training, his temperature lower than it should be (even for him) and eyes glossy. But Klaus hadn’t come in yet, and Five was willing to risk being caught to check in on him.

A familiar heat rose in his palms, and Five found himself standing in front of Klauses door. It was fully closed, oddly enough. Klaus always seemed to be a fan of keeping his door open (probably to stick it to Father, knowing him; you now have a soundproof room? Keep the door open to inconvenience everyone on the floor just because) no matter how many times Diego or Ben asked him to close it.

Hell, even Five would occasionally startle from the screams coming from the floor below his. He’d hate to be in the room across from Four’s.

Five turned the knob of the door slowly, ears pricked for any sound coming from Father’s room down the hall. Klaus didn’t have any lights on (Five ignored the steady alarm bells going off in his head), the only source of light was the slowly rising sun filtering through the window. Five frowned, scanning the room for his brother until he spotted a shaking mass wedged under the burnt desk.

Five sighed, pushing the chair away to crouch in front of Klaus. His brother didn’t give a reaction to his presence, yet. So Five took the chance to scan him over for anything that might be cause for concern. 

To put it bluntly, Klaus looked like someone thought to cut his clothes off without wanting to take them off him. His clothes—especially his pants—had long tears all over them, the clothing parted to reveal still bleeding gashes that looked like they went in far too deep.

What did Klaus say his training was again?

“Klaus,” Five tried, leaning forward the slightest bit to see if Klaus shifted, nothing. “Klaus?” Still no outward reaction, so Five gently placed a hand on Klauses ankle, squeezing the bone to get his attention. Klaus let out a harsh whimper, his head shooting up as he looked at Five with wild eyes.

“Let me go,” Five didn’t, instead he leaned forward even more, worrying at his lip as he saw red marks coming down from Klauses eyes. “Please, let me go, Five.”

Five shook his head, “Fivey, please, leave me alone.” He tilted his head, it was hard to see the extent of the damage in such low light. 

“Come out from under there,” Klaus shook his head, tension coiling around him. Five blew out a frustrated breath. “That wasn’t a request, I need to get a better look at your injuries.”

“I’m fine. Now please stop touching me.” Five tightened his grip around Klauses ankle, he was trying to help him, why did he have to be so difficult all the time? “Five, Fivey please, just stop touching me.”

Klaus was injuried, and he wasn't letting Five help him, and to help him Five needed to get him into better lighting. So he ignored the panic in his brother’s voice as he pleaded with Five to leave him be, grabbed both feet, and tugged .

Klaus let out something half-way between a sob and a scream, Five checked to see if he closed the door on his way in — thank whatever god there was that he did. The last thing he needed was Father to come running in here and finding Five on the floor next to his sobbing and blood-covered brother,

“Calm down,” Klaus did not in fact calm down, his breath was catching in his throat with every hiccuping inhale and Five tried to force down the rising panic. “Klaus, calm down, it’s just me.”

His brother whined, curling in on himself as he muttered a string of soft “no’s”. Five was at a loss, frustration was heavy in him as he stared at Klaus.

How was he supposed to help him?

Five took a breath, leaning over Klaus and placing his hands on his brother's knees—

“Don’t touch me!” —And a punch to the face.

Five fell back, a hand caressing his jaw as he stared at Klauses tear stained face. His brother didn’t seem to recognize him, his chest was rising and falling too fast to be considered healthy and his eyes were darting around the room.

Klaus was the one to go to when someone needed comfort, not Five.

So Five did what he did best, and blinked back to his own room.

On their way to training, Klaus stopped him with a hand on his wrist. Five sighed, and didn’t look his brother in the eyes.

They were falling behind the others, but Klaus seemed to have difficulty figuring out what to say. That was fine, Five would wait as long as Klaus needed, consequences be damned.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” Klaus shrugged, tapping a pattern on the armrest of the couch.

“You’ve just been avoiding me, so I just thought I did something to upset you.” Five ran a hand down his face, and blinked back over to the couch with a sigh.

“I’m not mad at you.”

Diego snorted, and Five resisted the urge to throttle him. “Might wanna work on your delivery there little dude.” The second Five managed to get out of this ridiculous body, he was going to make Diego spar him. And Diego would lose, horribly and terrifically.

Klaus hummed, pulling at his hair with a frown on his face. “Then what’s your deal? Is there another apocalypse or something?” 

“Nope.”

Allison sighed, rubbing at her eyes as if she was the oldest one in the room. “So then what is it, Five. We can’t be a family if we don’t communicate why we’re blowing off one of our siblings.” Five bit his lip, since he pulled them out of the original timeline he was walking along a riptide when it came to most of his siblings.

Especially when it came to Allison. He stranded her in the Jim Crow south without a voice for two years then made her abandon her husband to get back to a botched 2019, then confessing that he killed their little brother, he'd fall directly into that riptide.

“Allisons right,” Viktor’s voice broke Five out of his thoughts, “we need to talk about these things, especially if they’re causing turmoil in the family.”

Klaus tapped Five’s knee, looking at him with a tilted head and this look on his face that made Five want to crawl in a hole and die.

He sucked in a breath, “You’re supposed to be dead.” 

Klaus blinked at him, “Ouch.” He reached across the back of the couch, grabbing Diego’s raised hand and entertwining their fingers. “Violence isn’t the answer, Di.”

Diego, much to Klauses displeasure, yanked his hand away from Klaus. “Our brother just told you that you should be dead, and you’re honestly trying to defend him?”

Klaus shrugged, “He’s not the first person to tell me that, doesn’t mean that a physical fight is needed.”

Luther blew out a breath, “I mean, it’s kinda warranted though.” From the corner of his eye, Five saw Diego nodding along, staring holes into Five’s skull. Whatever, let the idiot dry his eyes out all he wanted, wasn’t his problem.

“Eh,” Klaus flicked Diego’s forehead, “that’s just a moral dilemma baby. I mean, how do we decide when someone deserves to be physically hurt?” 

(“Five, just tell them.” Not-Delores whispered to him, “They forgave Viktor for ending the world, who’s to say they won’t do the same for you?”

“That’s different.” He wanted to reply.

“Is it really, though?”)

The voices of his siblings discussing scenarios where violence is applicable washed over him. Five closed his eyes, leaning back against the couch with a sigh. He felt the cushion next to him shift, and he blinked open an eye to see Klaus staring at him with his chin propped up on his arm.

“Blink us to the roof?” Five stared at him for a second, sneaky fuck. Distract their siblings so he could get Five out of the spotlight, just to corner him then? Klaus had a smug smile on his face, and Five decided that it was best to just get it over with and deal with Klauses hatred without the gazes of the rest on him.

He grabbed Klauses hand (holy fuck, why were his hands always so cold?), and in a flash of blue they were sitting atop the structurally questionable roof. Klaus got comfortable, stretching out in the sun like a fucking cat. He pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his pocket, silently handing one to Five as he stared out at the horizon.

There wasn’t any lighter in sight, so Five put the cigarette between his teeth and blinked into his shared room; grabbing the rusted zippo from Klauses night stand. He paused, scanning over the inscription of the metal, Phu Cat, Vietnam 69-70 . Five let out a shaky breath, running a finger over the text before going back to the roof.

Klaus was still there when he got back (thankfully, Five was only gone for at most a minute, but with Klaus, a minute was an hour), unlit cigarette between his lips and familiar dog tags in his hands. Five lit his first, taking a puff before sitting next to Klaus. His brother didn’t startle, didn’t even bother to ask for the zippo.

Sighing, Five tilted Klauses head towards him, his other hand holding the open flame up to the unlit cigar. The dates inscribed on the lighter stared at him, and Five didn’t think he could stomach staring back. 

They sat in silence for longer than he would like to admit (he just didn’t want to look his baby brother in the eyes and tell him that he hurt him in a way he couldn’t have come back from), the once full cigarette carton was now down to it’s last four and the sun had already begun it’s descent.

“So what makes you think I should be dead?” Five startled, his lips parting and the cigar tumbling into his hands. “If you’re worried I’m offended or anything, then stop. I was a hooker for a few years, had all types of shit said to me.”

Five blinked, “You were a hooker?”

“We were famous child superheroes babe, I had a whole lotta people wanting some of this hot action the second I left home for good.” Five nodded, his throat thick as he took another puff. Klaus left home when he was fifteen, the day after Ben’s funeral. And he stayed away from home for another fifteen. “Coulda also been because I’m Rom, y’know? Helped old dudes project their Esmerelda fantasies onto me.”

He didn’t particularly wanna think about what that meant for his little brother.

“I,” Klaus looked over at him, his eyes warm and trusting. “I killed you.”

Five looked away, holding his breath and awaiting for Klauses reply. Hate, scorn? Did he know, deep down, that he couldn’t rely on Five to truly protect him?

Instead, though, all he caught was a puff of smoke to the face and a laugh. Five looked back over at Klaus, his eyes wide as he watched his brother dangle off the edge of the building, shaking with laughter.

“Babe,” The moon began to rise in place of the sun, and Klaus had to take a few deep breaths to calm down. “Baby, I already know.”

“What?” He croaked out, eyes suspiciously stinging and his throat heavy with an emotion he couldn’t place.

“Back in ‘Nam, right? Battle of Hamburger Hill?” Five nodded, his cigarette was almost out. “I saw you watching me beforehand, Fivey, up in the trees like a creep.”

“You knew it was me?” Klaus knew, of course he fucking knew. He knew that his big brother looked at him through the scope of a Henry AR-7, and took the shot.

Klaus smiled at him, soft and with more love than Five deserved. “I spent the better half of a decade trying to summon your non-existent dead spirit, so I had a whole lot of time to stare at pictures of you.” He paused, looking up at the sky. “Even when you’re an old fuck, I can still recognize you.”

Klaus titlted his head, rubbing the burnt-out cigarette onto the cold concrete. “I think it’s the frown that gives it away.”

Five huffed out a laugh, Klaus knew. “You’re not mad?”

("Klaus knows." Repeated Delores, her voice soft with relief.)

"Nah, I don't really have much reason to be. It's not like anything really happened, anyway." That made Five pause, not like anything happened? Is he joking? Five went back on his word, he broke the last promise he made without even thinking twice about it. He was supposed to protect his younger siblings, not be the cause of their death.

Not like anything happened? The fuck was Klaus on, it doesn't matter if it didn't stick, the bullet still struck his little brother and he was still the one who pulled the trigger.

Five ran a hand down his face, "I don't think that's right." He took out another two cigarettes, going through the same motions he did with the other six. Hand one to Klaus, light his, take a puff, light Klauses.

"Eh, it's not like your the first person in this family to kill me."

Five inhaled, the smoke in his lungs burned the fraction of a degree higher than it should have been. "What?"

"Mhm, think your one of the last to jump on the whole murder train." Five watched Klaus take a long drag of the cigarette, a meloncholic smile on his face that shouldn't be there. His little brother shouldn't think so fucking little of the fact that his family, the people he's supposed to trust, have fucking killed him.

But Five wasn't dumb, and Klaus was stubborn. So he snubbed his cigarette out prematurely, and reached out a tentative hand towards Klaus.

“Five, Fivey please, stop touching me.”

"Can I touch you?" He asked, and Klauses smile dropped and his eyes shone in the faint moonlight. Klaus nodded, and Five wrapped his hand around his brother's forearm, gentle tugging him into an hug. The movements felt stiff, like a machine that knew the motions had been rusted over to the point of uselessness. But Klaus shifted, tossing the bud of his cigarette to the other seven laying on the cold ground, and laid his head on Five's shoulder

Five looked to the horizon, threading a hand through his brother's hair. He exhaled,

He killed his baby brother.