Work Text:
***
[spiraling around the edges an unevenly torn slip of paper]
May 1st, 2028
Vanya-
It’s stupid, but sometimes I think about the food I left uneaten on my plate when I ran out of dinner that day. Logically I know it wouldn’t have done me any good in the long run, but at times like this when I haven’t eaten in days so long, I wonder if maybe if I’d just finished eating I would have had a leg up on the starvation, if I would have had the energy to get back, if I didn’t need to eat that first day so everything since then would have lasted just one extra day… One more day can make a difference between life and death, y’know.
Five
***
[on the back of a dirt-smeared poster for a concert featuring soloist Vanya Hargreeves]
June 27th, 2019
Vanya-
Have you ever had those dreams where something goes completely, horrifically wrong, and you’re stuck watching something unfold that you could have changed if you could just do it over again? Sometimes, you have just enough awareness to know that you can fix things, you can rewind the clock and go back to that moment and step in this time, do things differently, knowing what you know now; it’s still a dream, of course, because you can’t actually rewind time and fix things that simply, but it feels real, and that feeling of helplessness is wiped away when you throw your willpower at changing things. I’m sorry
I wish this was a dream. I wish I could Real life doesn’t work like that, of course. Time doesn’t work like that; it’s like an incredibly powerful river that crashes over everything in its path and smooths it down into whatever shape it wants. You can throw a rock into the stream, but it’s still going to land where it’s going to land, and it’s almost impossible to reach back in and pluck out that same rock to move it somewhere else. Salmon, though—salmon jump upstream, you know? They can pull themselves out of the current and find themselves at an earlier point, but it’s not nearly so precise. So the question is how to go from a rock to a salmon, I suppose. I’ll figure it out.
I didn’t want this-I should have listened to you-
I’ll figure it out, I promise.
Five
***
[On a mostly-blank sheet of paper torn from the title page of a book]
April 29th, 2019
Ben,
I miss the way you and I used to be able to sit together in complete silence, you reading or drawing and me revolutionizing mathematics. Even though we only talked occasionally, it always helped to have someone else there to spark new thoughts or ideas. Or someone to just throw out a dumb joke, or laugh with me when I needed a break. It’s a lot harder to think in this crushing silence, knowing there isn’t anyone else around to break the monotony. I’m sorry I’ll be back before you know I’m gone, so hopefully you won’t ever have to understand what that’s like.
Five
***
[squeezed into the margins of a thick text about quantum mechanics]
July 3rd, 2019
Klaus
I wish you were here. I know you would hate it, it’s fucking boring even for me, and at least I have something productive to work on. I know it’s selfish, I know you would be miserable, but I just want someone I just want someone here, being miserable right alongside me. This place is probably swimming with ghosts, but even if just you were here, maybe we could talk to the others. At least if you were here things wouldn’t be so quiet. I never thought silence could be so goddamn loud. I’d even take your shitty made-up stories that you pretend have some kind of metaphor to them, just so I had something other than my own thoughts to listen to.
When I get back, I’m never going to tell you to shut up again.
Five
PS That’s a lie, I’m going to tell you to shut up 20 times a day, but I’ll probably only mean it one or two of those times.
***
[in a scuffed leather journal with half its pages missing]
June 16th, 2019
Allison,
I don’t wish any of you were here; this place is awful, and the sky still seems like it’s on fire, and the ash and dust are intolerable. I’m glad none of you are here because of my mistake because I’ve finally got some peace and quiet to work, the way I never could with the constant interruptions from all of you. I can obviously handle things on my own this is my problem to fix so and having you all here would just be a distraction.
It is harder to keep on task without anyone to compete against, though. There’s so much to do just to survive, right now, that sometimes I just want to rest and work on fixing things later.
I miss your confidence, and determination not to give up. I don’t wish you were here, but sometimes—sometimes it would be nice to have someone else around who could remind me not to fall behind, just by giving me one challenging little smirk.
I wish I wasn’t alon I’m glad you’re not here.
Five
***
[on the back of a torn, vintage film poster]
September 29th, 2027
Luther-
I never realized how much it must have taken out of you to pretend that you had it all under control and knew what you were doing. I wish there was someone else here to take charge and act like everything’s going to be okay. It’s not going to be okay. I know you’re not any more likely to have answers than I am, but it was always comforting to know someone else was responsible for making sure things turned out okay, or could convince us to pretend that was the case until it became true.
Things right now seem pretty bad and there’s no one to tell me to get my shit together other than myself, and it’s not easy to bluff when the person you’re trying to fool is yourself. I keep grasping at straws on how to fix this, but there’s too many possibilities, too many tasks to juggle just to stay alive for another day, and sometimes I don’t even know where to start. You’re stronger than we all gave you credit for, Luther, and I don’t mean physically. Things were easier to focus when there was someone I could trust giving me directions, even if half the time they were probably screaming on the inside and just trying to keep it together. It was just—easier.
Thanks for that, Luther. I miss you.
Five
***
[a loose sheet of paper tucked into a worn leather journal, dirt and ash flaking from its cover]
July 2nd, 2019
Diego-
Remember the time with the roasted asparagus Mom was making while Dad was out of town? I still wish we had found the cookies instead, but I would kill for even sad old-man food right now, if only there was someone around to kill. You’d probably love this whole survivalist game, you’ve always excelled at that kind of thing, but you need people too much to be able to survive in this empty wasteland. Also, good luck mailing that elephant, you’re going to need it.
I’ll be back soon soon.
Five
***
[painted on a stained piece of canvas, tacked onto the crumbling wall of the downtown city library, second floor of the atrium]
october 1st 2019
happy birthday
[carved directly into the brick below: a series of 41 haphazard tally marks]
[on a paint and dirt-smeared piece of canvas torn halfway from the wall, streaks of rust-colored blood at its edge from fingertips scrabbling against rough brick]
i’ll be home for the next one
***
[squeezed onto every available bit of real estate on a postcard depicting hell, michigan, addressed only to “home”]
November 23rd 25th 26th 2019
Allison-
I just saw a magazine article talking about your divorce (congrats on your marriage, condolences on the divorce) that mentioned a daughter. It’s bizarre to think of you as a mother, when just a few months ago we were all kids ourselves and I could have sworn you hated children entirely. Just goes to show how much things can change, I guess. Congratulations on the kid, she looks just like you she looks like how I remember you at that age. I hope I wish Family is important. I hope I get to meet I can’t wait to win the ‘best uncle’ title without even trying, when the time comes for that.
Love, Five
PS a postcard from Hell might not be the best way of sending congratulations on the birth of a kid, but it’s what I’ve got. And let’s be honest, it’s absurdly fitting for my circumstances right now
***
[on a loose sheet of paper tucked into an overstuffed leather journal; parts of the paper are dotted with water stains and some words smudged]
Jan..ary ..th 2020
Ben ..sorry. I’m so sorry. I sh..ld. have been there. I found V…’s book, I read… I read about.
I’m sorry. D lo.es is tryi.. tell me it’s not my fault, but I cou.. .ave fix.. this if I wasn’t here. I could ha.. . a difference. [illegible]
I’m going to … this. I …omise I’m going to fix it, Ben
Five
***
[on the back of a worn grocery receipt, its original contents long since faded]
March 13th 2020
Diego-
I’m sorry you’re missing a knife, but I’m not sorry I borrowed it that morning. It’s probably saved my life a time or two, stuck here like I am. You should keep better track of your things.
Five
***
[in crayon on the back of a folded poster advertising library hours]
December 25th 2020
Klaus-
It’s so fucking cold. I can’t even take off my mittens so I have to write with fucking crayon because it’s what I can hold. A CRAYON Klaus. It’s ridiculous, the cold is unbearable, and I miss how you could make anything seem tolerable. I’ve never had to be alone like this before, I always thought I was so independent and didn’t rely on anyone but myself and yet here I am, alone except for [slightly illegible] and I love her, but I still feel you all I miss my family.
I don’t want to die here, Klaus
5
***
[on a singed piece of cardboard, written with charcoal]
July 22nd, 2019
Vanya,
The quiet is so awful. The crackling from the flames died ages ago; now it’s just the wind shrieking through, and the sound of rubble crumbling occasionally. I haven’t heard another human voice in too long. I keep talking, but my own voice has started to sound weird. Do you think it’s weirder to talk aloud to yourself when you’re the only person left in the world, or weirder to just never speak again and forget what words sound like? I should have. I should have listened to you. But no matter, I’ll get back, I promise.
I’d give a kidney or two just to be able to listen to you play for a few minutes. Did I ever tell you how nice it was to hear your music echoing through the corridors during independent study time? It was really nice.
Five
***
[carved clumsily into a scrappy piece of wood]
8-2-2021
I’m not giving up
***
[in the margins of page 230 of a well-worn paperback copy of Extra Ordinary]
June 19th 1919
I’ve almost got it. I’m so close I can taste it.
I miss you all. So much.
5
***
[on the back of a used envelope]
September 12th 2057
Diego-
We always took it for granted that you would drop anything to help any one of us. I’m sorry I never Thanks for that. You’re a good brother. And you’re more than enough, just the way you are.
5
***
[written across a blank crossword puzzle on a loose sheet of newspaper]
April 1st 2035
Ben-
I’ll be honest, Ben. I have no idea what today’s actual date is. I never knew in the first place, really, just assumed it was only a day or two after the end of the fucking world whatever happened. And that’s fine, y’know, you gotta start somewhere. But there are definitely days missing, like that time I broke my arm and passed out and D[illegible] and I were both too out of it to keep track clearly, and all the other days I’ve let slip by without really noticing. I’m losing time just as much as I’m wasting time, wasting my life here out of step with everyone else. I’ve lived longer here than I did back home, how fucked up is that? I don’t know if this is the 16th anniversary of the day everything went wrong or not; it kind of helps to pretend the days have significance, which is the only reason I’ve bothered to keep track until now, but Christ is it depressing to think about how long I’ve been here. I can’t say this out loud, I don’t want…I don’t want her to think I’m giving up. I’m not giving up. I’m just—tired.
Five
***
[at the bottom of a piece of graph paper, below a series of scribbled differential equations]
July 12th, 2020
Luther
God I miss having someone to bounce ideas off of when I’m working on equations like this. [torn] ..ores is great, but she always lets me make my own mistakes and helps correct me afterwards, when we’re reviewing things. You used to follow my line of thinking and head me off at the pass when I was veering down the wrong path. Maybe I wouldn’t be wasting so much time now redoing equations if you were here.
I’m going to deny I ever even thought that, once I get home. Gotta keep you humble, after all.
5
***
[on a ragged bit of paper that looks like it’s been pieced together from several individual strips]
October 3rd 2057
Allison-
You were the only one with even half the ambition and drive I had, and I resented you as if you didn’t have just as much right to succeed as I did. I’m sorry for being a rival instead of a brother. I’ll do better if when I get back. You’ve never needed anyone’s approval, but you deserve it anyway: you don’t have anything to prove, and I’m proud of you.
5
***
[on the back of a blueprint for a now-destroyed art museum]
February 15th 2031
Dad Regin
I regret You might have been right
Maybe I should have listened
Fuck you. I’ll fix this myself.
Five
***
[a loose page in an old journal, torn from its original placement and carefully tucked into the back cover so it doesn’t get lost]
September 18th 2057
Luther-
You’re more than what Dad lets you be. You don’t have to be the leader to be worth something to us, and we should have we’ll do more to remind you of that. Thanks for always looking out for us.
5
***
[on the reverse side of the previous note]
September 21st 2057
Vanya-
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s not enough. We let Dad tell us you were less than us and you’re not, you’re the best of us. If we’d been a proper family instead of a “team”, no one would even think to doubt you belong, least of all you.
I miss you.
5
***
[on a sheet of paper from the Blue Water Inn’s hotel stationary]
July 31st 1933
Klaus-
How do you live like this? I feel haunted by ghosts and I can’t even see them, it’s like there are eyes on me all the time, like I can feel them judging me and waiting for me to fuck up and for me to die too so they can have their revenge. Maybe it’s just the guilt but I’m sorry. I can’t imagine actually seeing the horrors I know are lurking in the corners of every room the way you must have. You’re stronger than I ever imagined.
5
***
[a postcard of the Eiffel Tower with an obviously hand-drawn stick figure of a mime underneath]
April 9th 1897
Ben-
You think you’re a monster because of what Dad what all of us pushed you to do. You’re not. I’ve seen real monsters, now. I see one in the mirror every day so I’ve stopped looking. I’m going to make sure you have a chance to create a real life for yourself; whatever you want to do, whoever you want to be, Ben.
5
***
[written on a page torn from a book about supernatural phenomena and conspiracies in the early 21st century; the chapter is titled “Number Five: The Lost Boy”]
[not dated]
Don’t do it. It’ll be the worst mistake you ever make, and you won’t be able to take it back. Even getting home won’t erase what you’ve endured here.
And it’s too late, of course. Even if I could tell you not to do it, you wouldn’t listen. You did, so now I have done, so of course I always will.
Time’s funny like that.
***
[on a crisp sheet of letterhead stamped T.E.M.P.S. at the top, neatly folded and taped to the lid of a wooden crate]
Commission date #21734, relative to [redacted] C.E.
Mr. Five,
Please find enclosed a collection of writings retrieved from the timeline in accordance with Article 16.8 Subsection 3 of the Agent Recruitment Timeline Sanitation handbook, collected upon your recruitment and orientation into the T.E.M.P.S. program as a field agent in the Timeline Adjustments and Corrections Keystone Initiative department. These materials were removed and processed according to existing guidelines to ensure their impact (or lack thereof) on the timeline fell within reasonable limits to be considered personal property.
Upon review by [redacted], the case manager for this Significant Event, (case number [redacted]), it has been found that the enclosed notes have no negative impact on the future trajectory of the Universally Endorsed Timeline, being that they were removed from a sub-splintered branch of time that has since been pruned. Since these items may hold significance or sentimental relevance to your own personal timeline, prior to your enrollment in the T.A.C.K.I. department, they are being returned to you as a gesture of good faith.
Further questions, or requests for appropriated belongings from your original timeline and personal items that may have been acquired during your tenure with T.E.M.P.S. T.A.C.K.I. (as pursuant to Article 19 Subsection 41 of the Approved Use of Resources policy), may be directed to your case manager [redacted] in the H.R. Department. Contact information is below.
[redacted] [redacted], Director of Repossessed Belongings.
Human Resources Department (Termination and Retirement Division).
T.E.M.P.S. Commission.
[redacted] [redacted] [redacted]
Springfield, [redacted] [redacted]
P.S. Hi Mr. Five! Hope you’re enjoying your retirement! We miss you here at the Commission but I’m sure your family is delighted to have you home, and it’s clear from the enclosed materials that it’s what you’ve wanted for a very long time. I did try to collect all your little notes and unsent letters you left scattered throughout your time in the apocalypse, but there were a few items that weren’t really collectable without a jackhammer and a forklift, unfortunately! I hope these items that we are able to pass on are enough! I’m sure you’ll be happy to finally be able to pass these letters on as addressed, but I figured I’d leave that to you rather than sending them to your family myself. After all, I know you like a personal touch with these things, and the last time we sent a Commission agent near your family you got just a tiny bit aggressive, and we’re having difficulty finding agents who will agree to go anywhere near you now!
Best wishes!!
--Dot
P.P.S. Herb sends his love as well!