Chapter Text
It’s been two years and eight months since Five ran away at breakfast.
Viktor glances at the clock in his bedside and lowers his pen, he fell behind in the physics lessons and is having a hard time to find his footing again; at the beginning he asked Ben for help, but it’s best to no bother him too much, specially when he’s having trouble too, between the lessons and individual training.
It’s not that it is hard, Viktor knows that if he puts his mind to it, he will understand, but the concepts just keep evading him and he finds that concentrating in something that is not his violin is becoming harder and harder.
There’s something that feels like a curtain of fog at the front of his mind, something he has to pry open with all he is, to pass through it and see again. He's not sure when it got this bad, maybe his medication is not working anymore, he needs to talk to Mom.
He closes his notebook with a sigh, it’s late and no progress is being made, so he stands up, walks the two and a half steps towards his door and opens it slowly, walking outside in his pajamas and socks, each footstep as quietly as possible, not sure if someone knows what he’s been doing besides Dad, because Viktor’s certain he’s aware of everything even when he decides it’s not important enough to intervene.
And Viktor is never important enough.
So, he walks in the night through the corridor of their rooms, stealing glances to her siblings' doors and wonders if some of them are together. Klaus sometimes sleeps in Ben’s room and he doesn’t actually want to think about Allison and Luther, but does anyway and concludes that Luther would never break the rules like that.
Viktor takes the stairs to the upper floor and stops in Five’s room. He stares at the knob and tries it, hoping that this won’t be the occasion where his door is closed permanently. He sighs in relief when it opens and takes a moment to compose himself, before feeling the wall from the doorway to turn on the switch, lighting his unused room in a soft yellow. The sight doesn’t bring tears to his eyes like it did a few months ago, the only thing he can feel now, all the way through his bones, is the exhaustion that comes after crying all night.
He takes a deep breath and holds it until he can’t, it’s been two years and eight months of him keeping the lights on for Five. It feels longer and like no time has passed at all at the same time.
The posters Viktor helped him put in the walls stare at him in something like accusation. He closes the door.
Five would never leave them for good, he knows. It’s the loyalty that lies in his core and the conviction that he’s better than the rest. Viktor remembers him talking about leaving, but he never said anything about leaving alone, it was always ‘ we, we, we’ with him, even if only to rub in their faces that he was the first to leave.
Viktor walks down the stairs, quietly, so quietly he wonders in that way people do in the confidence of the darkness if he’s even real or something someone thought a long time ago and forgot to add details, a forgotten silhouette that didn’t have the switch on to make him human. His breath catches in his throat and he puts his hand on the wall, feeling the pores and irregularities of it.
Five would never leave them for good, but he’s not here and it’s been almost three years.
His siblings returned more injured from their first missions without Five, he remembers, a gaping whole in their formation that Dad corrected brutally and efficiently. Viktor took notes from the sidelines and watched his siblings swallow up their tears while ignoring him. A missing piece and one from another set entirely.
The kitchen illuminates when he turns on the lights and he goes through his usual process, which becomes a routine: the first step is to open the second cupboard at his right and take out the bread and the marshmallows, then open the fridge and look for the peanut butter behind the milk.
Viktor puts them on the table, looking at the ingredients in muted amusement.
These things are quite awful, actually. Too sweet for his tastes, but Five went through them like he was starving. His powers made sure that he wasted more calories than he consumed, Five explained to Viktor once, so he liked the practicality of putting as many calories as he could in one meal. That’s how this monstrosity was born, it still doesn't justify the fact that he genuinely loved it.
Loves it.
The smile slips off from his lips and he starts to put the sandwich together: he takes out two slices of bread, opens the marshmallow bag and uncapes the jar of peanut butter while scrunching up his nose.
The next sequence of events happens without warning, one moment he’s reaching out for a knife to spread the butter and the next there’s a thunder and a flash of blue; the knives slide out from the holder and get thrown violently across the room, getting stuck in the wall behind him; the windows tremble and he feels static coming in waves, in and out his whole body, before stopping.
The jar slips from his hand and clatters on the floor, loudly until another thunder drowns the sound.
Viktor looks through the window, heart in his mouth, the blue light flashes again and—
He knows that blue, he knows that blue . He knows, he knows, he knows and he runs towards the courtyard, footsteps loud, so loud in the veil of the night like he never is. Viktor runs and slams the door open, letting it crash against the wall. The blue flares bright, drowning everything else before disappearing and he’s left gasping in the cold air of february.
The snow is falling quietly, Viktor is breathing heavily and there’s someone getting up in the middle of the courtyard.
It’s a small figure, just a few inches taller than him, he figures even if the light is not great, watching as they get on their feet. He takes note of the ragged clothes, the aviator hat, the goggles covering half their face and a scarf the other half, as Viktor walks towards the figure he’s certain it’s a man.
The all consuming hope begins to diminish as he observes the man looking around him in something that looks like desperation, taking off the goggles and scarf with trembling hands and throws them aside. A car's horn sounds from somewhere, shouts following and the man flinches like he was hit, eyes widening.
Viktor’s certain his common sense abandoned him, because he keeps walking until he’s in reaching distance from him. His clothes are big on him, Viktor can tell, but he can’t place his age, not from his gaunt face hidden behind a long hair and an unkept beard. He makes a little sound from the back of his throat, startled and the man stills completely when he spots Viktor.
“Who–” he starts to say, high pinched, but his searching glances stop at the desperate pale green eyes and he knows.
The man stares at him without blinking, chest rising and falling quickly before he stops and takes carefully controlled breaths. Viktor stares back, eyes wide and holding his breath, not daring to believe, but doing anyway.
“Viktor,” he rasps, voice almost unrecognizable. But that’s his brother, that’s his brother.
He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but the only thing that comes out is a squeak. Viktor opens and closes his hands in fists, stands on his toes and falls on his heels again, hoping the movement snaps him out of the dream-like quality he slipped into.
“Five,” Viktor finally forces himself to say and the fog that always seems to cling to his mind thins and breaks when his prideful brother’s face crumbles, eyebrows pulling down and a small gasp leaves his mouth.
Viktor watches with panic coiling in his throat as his brother falls to the floor and starts to cry.
The cold is unforgiving, creeping through his skin; he’s barefoot, feeling absently as his socks become damp, numbing his toes and Viktor freezes as Five puts his arms around him in a feeble attempt at comfort, lowering his forehead until he’s touching the white sheet of snow, entire frame shaking and the only sounds in the world are the sobs that manage to escape from his pressed lips. Even like this he can’t let himself go completely.
The thought is what finally breaks him and he starts to move towards him, slowly at first and then Viktor throws himself at him. Five flinches almost violently when Viktor puts his hands on his shoulders and doesn’t raise, but his sobs get louder.
Viktor can feel tears run down his cheeks and he doesn’t understand, he doesn’t understand, but his brother is here, breaking down in front of him for the first time in their lives in clothes that are far too big for him and are covered in something like ash, like the aftermath of an explosion.
A whine breaks out of his throat and he throws his arms around Five, tightening his hold when his flinch threatens to push him away.
“It’s me.” he says, not knowing what else to do. “It’s me.”
Arms close on his back, tentatively at first and then grabbing on him like a vice, like he’s going to disappear if Five doesn’t hold onto him tight enough and Viktor returns the sentiment, clutching his jacket like it’s the only thing teetering him to earth.
“It worked.” Five mumbles, again and again, until that dissolves, too.
“I knew you would come back,” Viktor whispers into his hair. It smells like smoke, he smells like smoke and sweat and something he can’t place, but it’s undoubtedly Five.
He clings harder to Viktor and muffles his sobs on his shoulder, mumbling in between something that sounds like ‘sorry’, but can’t be, it just can’t. Five doesn’t apologize, it’s something they all know. Five doesn't apologize, but he doesn’t cry–either.
Viktor can’t think, not really, but the relief turns into fear the longer Five cries.
The snow keeps falling, they are shaking against each other and Viktor can’t see past his tears, but he feels like he can breath again when Five’s sobs begin to stop, trying to put himself together again by willpower alone. It’s been two years and eight months since he disappeared. What happened to leave him like this?
He feels Five tense up before he hears the footsteps. Viktor moves as much as he can with Five’s death grip on his middle to cover him with his body. It’s stupid, trying to protect him when Viktor’s the ordinary one, but it comes naturally, he just can’t let whoever is behind him see his brother like this.
“What is going on?”
Five’s breath hitches, before it stops completely and he goes so still Viktor’s worry skyrockets again.
“Viktor,” Luther says, warning in his tone “get away from that man and come here.”
He tightens his hold on Five in response, shaking his head and he feels his brother huff in his arms, something that he thinks is supposed to be a laugh, but too exhausted to commit to it.
“Viktor,” Hisses Diego through his teeth, like the Scary Man can’t hear him that way. “C-Come here.”
He ignores him too and closes his eyes when he hears scuffling and mutters from behind him.
“Viktor?”
It’s Ben this time and he would explain, he would, but he doesn’t trust his voice right now. So, Viktor rests his forehead on Five’s shoulder and whines when he tries to disentangle. Five huffs again and rests a hand on his head.
“C’mon,” he says in that raspy voice, Viktor makes a mental note to give him some water. “Stop trying to imitate a leech.”
God, he's so rude. Viktor missed him so, so much.
Allison clears her throat and he knows their time is up. Viktor really doesn’t want to be rumored and from the way Five tries to pull away again, neither does he. So he lets him go and turns around to face their siblings.
Luther and Diego are fully masked up, posed and prepared for a fight; Allison has half of her uniform on, an irritated look on her face; Klaus and Ben are in their pajamas, with Klaus missing his shoes.
“What is going ooon?” Klaus asks, rubbing his eyes and looking like he couldn’t care less. “Viktor, why are you still close to that creep?”
Five looks at them, expression caught between softness and despair and for a moment Viktor fears he’s going to cry again, but he reigns it, tilting his head to the side and smiling loopsedly, looking for a moment just like the brother he remembers.
“I always knew Sev was the smarter of the bunch.” He says and Viktor feels tears in his eyes again. God, that stupid nickname. “Don’t you recognize your own brother?”
It happens immediately, the shift in their expressions, suspicion morphing into confusion. Ben’s eyes widen and his lips drop open at the same time Allison puts her hands on her mouth; Klaus blinks rapidly, trying to dissipate his drowsiness; Diego is frowning, the angry expression slipping away the more he stares at Five and Luther looks at him, expression lost.
The tension rises as they continue to stare at Five and he stares back with that intense look of his, increased by the sharpness of his face, the shadows below his eyes. Viktor’s hand finds Five’s and squeezes, he inhales sharply at the contact.
“Five!” Klaus cries, breaking the tension and then he’s throwing himself at them.
" What?!"
Klaus closes his arms around Five, barely avoiding hitting Viktor and Five goes tense all over again, before he visibly forces himself to relax. Ben follows, enclosing with one arm what he can reach of Five and pulling in Viktor with the other, and then they are all there. He hears Allison sniffing behind him, arms thrown around them. Viktor’s still clutching Five’s hand.
It’s nice for a few moments, before they discover that group hugs are great in theory, in practice not so much: Someone hits Viktor in the head with their elbow; Diego grunts about being stepped on; Allison jabs on the ribs the person next to her with a muted ‘ stop pulling my hair ’ and Luther hugs a little too hard, going by Klaus’s ‘ ow, ow, ow’ and the following ‘sorry ’.
They disentangle almost immediately and sit down as close as they can without actually touching. They stare at Five and Five stares back at them, stopping on Ben with an expression on his face Viktor doesn’t recognize
Allison looks at Five, emotions flickering in rapid succession in her face, before settling on a frown. She hits him in the shoulder.
Five flinches, startled. “Ow?”
“Yes, ow! What the hell?” She says and rubs her eyes with her sleeve. “I thought you were—I thought you–”
Viktor watches his brother as he raises a hand to touch his shoulder. Now with the light the opened door offers he notices the dirt on his face, contrasting with the tear tracks on his cheeks, the bruises below his eyes and he is so, so skinny.
“Well,” he says, sounding almost lost. “I’m not.”
Klaus nods sagely. “Still an asshole, I see.”
“Once an asshole, always an asshole.” Diego says, staring at Five with shiny eyes. “You look like shit.”
Luther looks half-tempted to tell them to stop cursing, but for some reason he doesn’t, previous experiences, Viktor supposes. He settles for frowning at Diego in disapproval.
Five smiles, something painful looking. “I feel like shit.”
“Where did—
“What is the date?” He interrupts, raising a gloved hand to rub his face. It smears the dirt.
“February fifteenth.” Ben says, eyes following Five’s movements.
“Year?”
“2005”
Five lowers his hands and closes his eyes, “good.”
Silence falls. All of them are still staring at Five. Taking in the differences, trying to process them. Viktor turns to look at the discarded goggles; It doesn’t get easier.
Diego kicks the snow, “What’s up with the beard?”
“What’s up with the earring?” He retorts without opening his eyes.
Diego raises a hand to touch it, looking like he’s not sure if he’s embarrassed. He decides he’s not and puffs up his chest.
“It looks cool.”
Allison and him sneaked out to get their ears pierced a few weeks ago. He knows they asked the rest if they wanted to go, he remembers Diego goating Ben. They did not ask Viktor, of course they didn’t, why would they?
Viktor looks away and shakes his head. Today is not about that. Is not, is not, is not . When he raises his head he notices Five is staring at him with a frown. Viktor smiles at him and it’s not forced at all.
“So you actually Time Traveled.” Ben says, wonder in his voice.
“I did.” He says, turning to look at him and smirks under the beard. “The future is shit, by the way.”
They take a moment to absorb that. Viktor nods, it makes sense.
“That’s why you look–like that?” Luther asks.
Five tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. Never willing to make anything easier for them. Viktor smiles against his collar.
“Older.” Luther specifies.
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t add anything else. They look at each other, willing with their eyes for the rest to ask more.
“How long was it for you?” Allison finally asks.
Silence stretches again. Five’s face is completely blank, drained of all his little expressions even if the evidence of crying is still there, a stricken contrast to his openness when Viktor first saw him.
“A little over a decade,” he decides, slumping against Viktor and the air leaves him at his answer and at how light he is.
“ What?”
Five’s eyes go a little distant, his breathing stops and picks up again quicker and Viktor’s fear begins to rise again, so he elbows him in the ribs. Five looks at him, that expression again.
“I didn’t mean to leave.” He says, turning to look at them with big eyes and Viktor has a hard time believing he’s older than them even with the beard as evidence. “I tried to come back, but the old man was right,” he huffs something that wants to be a laugh. “Jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice.”
Five bites his lips and his expression crumples again for a second, before he gets it under control. It’s painful to watch.
He sighs, “I’m sorry.”
They stare at Five, not knowing what to do. Viktor is ordinary, Luther’s the favorite and Five doesn’t apologize, not like this. Those are the truths of the Academy.
But–It was a decade for him.
“You came back and that’s the most important thing,” Luther says gently, taking the lead. Then his face hardens and he straightens in what is known as his Number One posture. Viktor holds himself for what’s about to come. “But maybe you should have thought it better before dismissing Dad like that.”
“Are you serious?” Diego snaps.
“Really?” Viktor says at the same time.
Luther opens his mouth, looking prepared to defend himself, but closes it when even Allison turns to glare at him. Viktor glances at Five, that expression again in his face and he realizes with a stab that it’s guilt. His heart drops and the words abandon him.
Ben, always kind Ben when it matters, takes his hand and looks at him with an earnest expression. “What matters is that you’re here and we’re glad you are with us again.”
Five doesn’t look like he believes Ben, too stubborn for his own good, but he softens anyway and stares at their intertwined hands. Ben’s are shorter, thicker; the contrast makes Five’s thinnes even more jarring.
He pulls back from Viktor and Ben after a few seconds, looking like he has had enough physical contact, which actually brings Viktor some relief. That’s more like him.
They sit in silence, just taking in each other’s presence. It’s the first time in months Viktor’s been with all of them outside meals and something in him goes numb at the thought.
It’s freezing and they really should head back, but Viktor doesn’t have it in himself to move, not yet. They created a small bubble, here, in the snow and it will pop once they return.
Five looks at them, an edge to him that wasn’t there before, looking like he’s making a headcount in his mind, mumbling something indescifrable under his breath. Viktor itches to ask what was in the future that left him like this, but the apology makes him hold his tongue.
The only sounds he can hear are Five’s mumbling and the shifting of their clothes. Allison is slumped against Luther, both of them glancing at Five while pretending they’re not; Diego is cross legged, mask on his lap and staring without shame and because Klaus can’t stay still for more than a minute, he starts to hum, feet tapping on the ground at the beat of his song and Five relaxes at it.
Oh.
Viktor joins him, recognizing the melody and being painfully aware of the stares being directed his way. It’s one thing if Klaus is doing it, but him–, he thinks they had already forgotten he was there, but Five is not mumbling anymore and that’s the important thing.
Diego looks in bewilderment at them, “why?”
“Why not?” Klaus snickers, glancing at Viktor in something like glee and resumes his singing with vigor. It 's awful.
Five looks beyond exhausted and he’s shivering even in all his layers, but a small smile is playing in the corners of his lips.
“We should–” Luther starts to say before they hear footsteps and his eyes go wide.
Klaus and Viktor stop singing immediately and he’s almost certain they are all holding their breath, frozen in place.
A voice cuts through the silence.
“What is the meaning of this?”
It’s almost funny, the way they rise and place themselves in front of Five, backs straightening and legs apart in a defensive posture. It’s almost funny in the way it really, really isn’t, not from the fear that flickers in their faces, not from the tension radiating from Five. Viktor stays on the floor with him.
Luther is the first one to snap out of it, clasping his hands behind his back and opening his mouth to speak, but Allison elbows him in the ribs, nodding behind them, where Five is getting on his feet slowly, bones cracking and walking towards Dad, breaking through their siblings' formation.
Dad’s expression changes minutely the moment his eyes settle on Five, a tightening in his jaw, a twitch in his eye, but that’s all.
Five smiles, undeterred by the lack of acknowledgement and they all remember he was the only one to stand up to Dad so directly, something fierce and not backing down. Unafraid in face of the consequences.
But he’s still shivering and Viktor doesn’t think it’s only for the cold, his fingers twitch at his sides, looking for something to grab and Dad’s stare is beginning to wear him down.
Dad looks at Five, dispassionate and Viktor can see as his brother prepares to do what he always does–
“Where did you go, Number Five?”
“Hell,” he says and his smile grows into something desperate, a manic glint in his eyes. “Congratulations, your Umbrella Academy couldn’t stop the end of the world.”
–Provoke a reaction.
Dad’s eyes narrow, something appraising in his eyes that makes his blood run cold. The silence is almost palpable, expectant.
And then Five passes out.