Archive of Our Own

Diego got the call 7 months after everything. After the Kugelblitz, after Allison betrayed them, after they all went their own ways. 

“Diego Hargreeves?”

“Yes?”

“This is the NYPD, we apprehended someone today who claims to be your brother.”

His breath stuck in his throat for a moment, his eyes flickered to Lila, who sat next to him, frowning up at him. 

“He claims his name is Five Hargreeves-“

“What’s your address?”

By the time the police man had finished the address he was getting into his car. 

“Isn’t this a nice change of pace?”

Diego liked to think he was mature. He was about to have a baby, he was an adult, with a job and a wife. But the moment he saw his brother, behind bars in a police station, one of his eyes taking a purple coloring, scowling at him, a wave of pettiness overcame him. 

“Nice shiner.”

“I hate you so much.” Five hissed.

“Such loving words for your brother.”

“Fuck off.”

Diego crossed his arms, still grinning smugly. 

“You might wanna be a little nicer, bro. You called me, remember?”

Five crossed his arms, looking like a child who’d been punished with a time-out.

“They gave me one phone call.”

“You still called me, there’s five of us. Six if you count asshole-Ben.”

“Lets not count him.”

“Agreed.”

They grinned at each other for a moment, unified by the sheer joy of making fun of one’s siblings, even if it was a sibling from an alternative timeline. 

“It’s good to see you, Five.” At his earnest tone, Five’s smile slipped from his face, replaced by something like surprise. 

“It’s especially good,” Diego continued, bringing back his haughtiness, “to see you like this. What’d you do, you little psycho?”

Five went back to looking annoyed.

“He’s charged with stealing, fighting, breaking and entering-“

It took all of Diego’s training not to flinch at the unexpected voice. A policeman was standing behind him. He looked young, younger than Diego, if he had to guess, with blond hair shaved close to his scalp and hard dark eyes. 

“All allegedly,” interrupted Five, his shark smile in place, “as no one ever saw me commit the supposed crimes.”

Diego looked at the policeman for confirmation. The man nodded begrudgingly.

“Then why is he under arrest?”

“We were called to the scene by some neighbours, noise complaint. When we got there your brother was seen attacking a group of boys. He was the only one who we apprehended. We recognised him, since we’ve seen him around for the last six months or so. Social services are on their way.”

“That won’t be necessary, I’ll be taking my brother home.” Diego placed his hand on Five’s head, hoping the gesture looked brotherly. Five didn’t move a muscle. “He lives with me.”

The policeman looked dubiously from one sibling to the other.

“Does he?”

Diego nodded, approaching the policeman, lowering his voice as if confiding a little secret, “we’ve been having some trouble, since our mom died, and he came to live with me and my wife. He’s a good kid, you know? He just needs someone in his corner.”

He was pretty sure he’d stolen that phrase from some movie, but he’d spent enough time with cops to know they loved to be the hero, the mentor that saved some kid from ruin. Sure enough, the cop’s eyes softened as he looked back at Five, who had obviously heard the entire thing, because he had his best ‘poor little misunderstood orphan’ face on. The moment the cop turned back, he had that haughty smile back on his face, the one he used to have when he got away with stuff. What a little shit. 

Diego had really missed him. 

“I guess we could let this slide,” the cop said thoughtfully. He didn’t seem to remember that there were no actual chargers. “But if we find him in trouble again, there will be consequences.”

Diego nodded seriously, trying to ignore Five’s amused grin behind the cop. 

“I’ll talk to him.”

Fifteen minutes later found them outside the police station. 

“Well I can’t say this has been fun,” Five said, sarcasm dripping from the words. He stuck his hands into his pockets and turned. “But I have a couple of things I need to do. I’ll see you later, Diego.”

He didn’t make it a step before Diego grabbed him by the back of his jacket, pulling him back.

“Nice try, you’re coming home with me.”

Five jerked away from his hold and took a couple of steps away from him, eyes darkening. 

“I don’t need-”

“You’ve been homeless for seven fucking months, Five. If you were fine you wouldn’t be homeless.”

Five studied him as if he were a stubborn child throwing a tantrum. It made Diego’s skin crawl, just how much Five looked like Reginald at that moment. 

“Diego,” he talked slow and coldly, “and I say this with as much patience as I can muster, fuck off . I don’t need you, and I don’t want your help. ” 

The words kind of stung, but it was a familiar kind of hurt, because that was the way with his siblings. They would sneer at each other, cut each other down the moment they sensed weakness, just because that’s the way they had been raised. The umbrella academy had been a home built on barbed words and broken spirits, inhabited by a devastating loneliness that none of them had ever figured out how to overcome. 

“This isn’t charity or pity or whatever, old man. It’s- just-.“ Diego could feel his tongue growing heavy, his throat closing, so took a breath and approached Five. His movements were calm and careful, as if he were approaching a frightened animal. Five regarded him wearily, but did not step back, never one to back down. Diego reached out and grabbed the back of Five’s neck in a firm hold. His brother’s shoulder seemed to relax slightly under his touch, which Diego took as a win. 

“Just come home with me, and we’ll figure something out. You’ll get a hot shower and a sandwich out of it, at least.”

It was a feeble attempt at a joke, but his efforts didn’t go to waste. 

Five studied him for a few moments, but he didnt wrench away from his hold, so Diego didn’t back down. Finally, Five looked away.

“Fine.” He looked around for a second, as if searching for something. His eyes locked on a couple of dumpsters at the entrance of an alleyway. “Give me a second.”

And then he walked over to the dumpsters, slowly crouched down and whistled. For a second, Diego was convinced his brother had finally lost the last of his sanity, but then a little ball of fur wiggled its way out from beneath the dumpster and jumped into Five’s waiting arms. 

Diego frowned at the puppy as it excitedly licked at Five’s chin. The dog looked vaguely familiar, with those dark unthinking eyes and that little pink tongue sticking out of his mouth.

“Is that… Mr. Pennycrumb?” He asked, a little dazed as he watched Five let the dog lick him as he rubbed one of his ears. Five shrugged, completely focused on the puppy.

“He might be. This universe’s version of him, anyway. I found him not long after we left Hotel Oblivion.”

“And you just… kept him?”

Five shrugged again. “He kept following me, so I let him stick around.” Five was silent for a moment, staring at the pup. “He looked lonely.”

Diego took a moment to look at the pair, and then nodded.

“Okay, let’s go.” As they walked, Diego suddenly remembered. “Also, there’s something you should know…”

Diego opened the door to the little apartment. It was small, but not too shabby. It opened to the living-room, which had a couch, a little coffee table, and a loveseat, all pointed towards the tv. To the right, there was a hallway that led to a kitchen, big enough it had a dining room table squeezed into a corner. The next room to the right was a bathroom, the one to the left was the nursery, if the boxes and half constructed crib that could be spotted even from the doorway were anything to go by. The last room behind the closed final door was what Five could only assume to be Diego and Lila’s room. 

“Nice place.”

Before Diego could decide if the comment was sarcastic or not, Lila walked into the room, hands on her hips, her belly round and full. She studied Five, eyes traveling up and down his person. She turned to Diego. 

“We’re not keeping the mutt.”

Five frowned at her and tugged Mr. Pennycrumb closer to his chest. 

“He’s clean.”

“I was talking about you.” At that, Five smiled coldly at her, but he couldn’t fool Diego; there was amusement in that smile, his dimples betrayed him.

“Nice to see you too, Lila.” Lila grinned at him.

“You look like shit.”

“And you’re glowing.” Sarcasm dripped from every syllable as both brothers stepped forward and closed the door behind them. Lila rolled her eyes.

“Take a shower, you little shitheel, you stink.” Lila ruffled Five’s unkempt hair as he fell into step beside her. Five glared at her, obviously offended, and then looked at Diego for confirmation. Dieo winced and nodded. Five scowled and turned to the bathroom.

It was twenty minutes later, when the shower turned off and Diego could hear Five shuffling around in the bathroom, that he rapped his knuckles against the door.

“It’s open.”

Five had a towel wrapped around his waist, and was busy rubbing his wet hair vigorously against a smaller one. Diego left the bundle of clothes he’d brought (just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, all of it Lila’s before her belly had swollen too much to wear them) on top of the sink. 

As Five’s attention was elsewhere, Diego took the moment to study his brother closer. The bruise just under his eye had turned a dark purple, and another one had showed up low on his jaw, the dark colors only accentuating just how pale Five was. His cheekbones stuck out more than ever, any baby fat he’d had left had disappeared. As his eyes travelled down, concern grew inside Diego. Five was skinny . And not in a fourteen-year-old-growth-spurt. No, this was the unhealthy, sickly, dangerous kind of skinny. He had grown, that was for sure, he was almost as tall as Diego now, but his collarbones stuck out too much, his wrists and knees were too thin. His ribs, which sported their own collection of bruises, stuck out against his skin. It was unnerving, and it made Diego realise just what being homeless had meant for his brother. 

“Five.” His brother didn’t even look at him, inspecting the clothes Diego had laid out for him.

“Hm?”

He hadn’t thought out what he’d wanted to say, so he blurted out the first question that came to his mind.

“Have you been eating?”

Five paused at that, giving him a funny look. He shrugged, turning back to his clothes. 

“Enough.”

That left a sour taste in Diego’s mouth. 

“This doesn’t look like ‘enough’”.

Five looked down at his malnourished body with clinical indifference. He shrugged.

“I’ve looked worse.”

And wasn’t that an awful image. Actually-fourteen-year-old Five, always the tiniest brother, in the apocalypse, looking even worse than now, forced to scavenge for food in a dead world, alone and scared and grieving.

Diego shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on that. 

“That doesn’t mean you look okay now.”

Five didn’t respond, but Diego could see his shoulders tensing, his hands balling into fists. Maybe this wasn’t the best conversation to have in a bathroom, while his brother stood there in a towel, but Diego wasn’t particularly known for knowing when to keep his mouth shut. He was worried, and worry made him impulsive. It was that impulsivity that made him blurt out, sounding more annoyed that he actually felt, “Five-“

“Look, Diego,” Five interrupted, looking truly annoyed now, “I’m fine, and even if I wasn’t, which I am, it’s none of your business, so back off.”

The calm and condescending tone ticked something in Diego. His siblings had a special talent for pissing him off with only a few words. It was a gift, really. 

“You’re family, you dipshit, which makes you my business.” 

Maybe he shouldn’t have snapped. Maybe he should’ve tried to explain his worry, and tried to keep the situation from escalating. But he didn’t. Five’s eyes hardened then, and Diego knew he’d said something wrong. He didn’t know what had pissed Five off so much in that one phrase, but something had, because the old man bristled, straightening up so that he stood eye to eye with Diego.

“I wasn’t your damn business seven months ago, when you all fucked off without even looking back. I’m fine , and I’ve been doing fine on my own. So if you’re going to be a fucking asshole about it, I’ll leave right fucking now and you won’t see me again.”

Diego glared at his brother, his temper, once again, getting the better of him.

“Fine. Leave if that’s what you want. That’s what you do best anyways,” he spat out, his words clipped and filled with the poison of truth. 

Something ran through Five’s expression, too quick to catch, but Diego got the impression he’d crossed a line. Good, see how he liked a taste of his own medicine. 

“Fine,” Five snarled. 

Diego marched out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

He stormed into the kitchen, where Lila was sitting, obviously having heard the whole thing.

“That went well,” she said cheerfully.

“ Hijo de puta cabron,” Diego raged.

“That’s your mother too, love.” She watched him bemusedly as he stomped around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets with more force than necessary. “What’re you doing?”

“Making him a god damned sandwich.”

Lila grinned, fingers drumming against her belly. The baby inside her kicked. Feisty little thing it was. It was definitely it’s parents’ child.

Five minutes later, the door to the bathroom opened with a bang, and Five made a beeline for the front door. He whistled at mr. Pennycrumb, who until know had been napping on the couch. The puppy perked up at Five’s appearance and jumped off the couch, happily following his owner’s footsteps, either unaware or uncaring of the tension in Five’s shoulders. He hadn’t made it even to the door when he was yanked back by the scruff of his shirt and dragged to the kitchen. 

Five didn’t appreciate being grabbed like a grouchy teenager, something he wasn’t, to hell with his apparent age, and he opened his mouth to tell his brother as much, in a lot of scathing words and probably some physical violence. Diego beat him to it.

“Sit your ass down, now.”

Maybe it was the dad-voice that left no room for an argument, maybe it was the fact that that was the first hot shower Five had taken in months, or maybe it was the bone-deep tiredness that had been haunting him for the last months (or four decades). Maybe it was a combination of everything. 

Whatever the case, Five sat. 

Diego put a sandwich in front of him. Five eyed it, and then looked up at Diego with mistrust and wariness. 

“Eat the fucking sandwich, Five.”

Five bent down and took a bite, trying not to show just how hungry he was. Mr. Pennycrumb whined and pawed at Five’s legs. Five stared up at Diego with a completely blank expression.

“He likes ham.”

Diego looked at Five, then at the puppy, and then went to the fridge to retrieve the ham. Diego thought it said a lot about his brother that the puppy looked better fed than he did. 

-

Diego left to get the sofa ready for Five to sleep in, after threatening to tie Five to the chair if he even thought of leaving. 

“That’s kidnapping, Diego,” Five had drawled, indignant and a little humiliated at Diego’s attitude. Act like a child, get treated like one, Dolores said in his mind. The fact that she was right had done nothing to soothe Five’s old man pride.

Diego had sneered at him, “who are you going to tell, your friend Mr. Good cop?”

The man had had a point, so Five had scowled and continued eating his sandwich. 

To tell the truth, he wouldn’t have left even if he’d wanted to. His eyelids were already drooping, the headache he’d been nursing for a week now was pounding something fierce inside his skull. He hadn’t been sleeping much, too afraid to get jumped. He might or might not have pissed off a street gang. It wasn’t his fault the group of juvenile delinquents had tried to scare him off ‘their territory’. Of course, ‘ tried to’ being the key phrasing here, as Five was not about to be intimidated by twenty-something junkies. 

Whatever the case, he hadn’t slept in a long time, even by his standards. He let his cheek rest against his hand as he chewed the last bite of his sandwich. 

Maybe he could close his eyes, he mused, while he waited for Diego to come back. Maybe he could doze for a while, just until Diego called him. That seemed like a good plan. He was safe, after all. That’s the one thing he knew for certain. He could rest here. It was okay.

His eyes closed, and a second later unconsciousness welcomed him like an old friend. 

-

“Five!” Diego called, “it’s not the greatest sofa, and I only have one spare blanket.” He walked over to the kitchen. “But your other option is the armchair so-“

He stopped, staring at Five’s sleeping form. He’d fallen asleep, right there in his chair, his cheek resting on his hand, his mouth partially open. Somehow, it had eluded Diego until that moment just how deep the bags under Five’s eyes were. To be fair, the bruise had taken his attention away from the rest of his face. His hair also looked weird. Now that it was somewhat dry, it looked unkempt and messy. One side was slightly longer than the other, like Five had hacked at it with a pair of safety scissors. It was so out of character for Five, who had always prided himself on looking pristine, it left Diego feeling uneasy. Which was kind of ridiculous, since the state of his brother’s hair was easily the least of his worries right now. 

“Five.” He snapped his fingers at his sleeping brother, but the attempt was futile. “You’re a grown ass man, get your own ass into bed.” Nothing. 

The situation brought back an old memory of him and Luther sticking pencils into a sleeping Five’s nose, giggling at the way Five had remained oblivious. He always was a heavy sleeper, specially after dad’s solo trainings. 

Diego studied the bruise under Five’s eye, and recalled the bruises in his chest and arms. He wandered just how much rest Five had been getting, if the moment he’d deemed the situation safe, he’d fallen in what Diego could only assume was a light coma. 

“Alright, old man,” he sighed, no small amount of fondness and wariness in his tone. He bent over his sleeping brother, grabbed his arm to place it around his shoulders, and grabbed him underneath his knees to scoop him up in one swoop. He didn’t weigh enough for it to be a strain for Diego, even with his new height. It only helped to confirm he was right to worry. 

The new position didn’t even rouse Five, he merely grunted and turned his head against Diego’s chest, hiding his face in it. 

“You are insufferable,” he told him once he’d laid him down on the sofa. He started tucking the blanket around Five’s shoulders. “Also, I am burning the clothes you left in the bathroom, they’re stinking up the entire house.”

Five made no comment. He kept snoring softly, mouth partially open and bangs laying over his eyes. Diego made himself stop fiddling with the blankets, made himself stare at his brother, whom he’d just started to realize he’d been failing until now. With a sigh, he pushed Five’s bangs out of his eyes, letting the silky strands slip over his fingers. Five only shifted and sighed. Diego left for his room. 

-

The next morning, Five was rudely awoken by a pillow hitting him in the face. 

“Nghhhh.” He turned over, burying his face in the couch cushion. 

“You have a month to get your mutt potty trained or else he’s sleeping in the street.” Five turned his head and squinted at his brother, who stood next to a little yellow puddle. Five looked down at the pup, who stared up at him innocently, his tongue sticking out. 

Five grunted.

“Also we are leaving to get you some clothes in half an hour. I don’t have all day, old man.”

Five only rolled over to hide his face between the cushions once again. 

“Nghh.”

“Either I take you or Lila does.” 

Five almost fell off the couch in his effort to scramble into an upright position.

“I’m up,” he mumbled, blinking rapidly and swaying as he regained his bearings. “Also, your couch smells funny.”

“I know, it came with the apartment. And Lila is cutting your hair afterwards, you look like a hobo.” That made Five’s face split into a lazy amused grin. 

“I was a hobo.”

“Well, you’re not anymore. Now get up, mop up the piss, and eat your damn breakfast.”

Five was halfway into mechanically cleaning the puddle when he stopped to wonder when the hell had Diego developed a dad voice. He didn’t even have a child yet, Jesus Christ. 

Five was acting… strange. He was always a little on the weird side, but now, two weeks after Diego had found him, he was stiff and distant at the best of times, cold and biting at the worst. He’d start to grin at something Lila or Diego said, and then his whole face would stutter for a moment before he shut down. His eyes would harden, and he’d snap something back at them. 

But if Five was a stubborn ass, Diego was a bigger one, because he kept pushing, trying to get a rise out of his brother. Until now, he’d been unsuccessful at figuring out what the hell was wrong with him. 

It turned out, it was an innocent comment that eventually did the trick. It went like this:

They were putting away the grocery shopping, Five only helping because Diego insisted on going together, that as long as Five didn’t pay rent the least he could do was help around. It’d been a low blow, but Diego had been trying his best to keep an eye on Five, worried he’d do something dumb like run away. 

“Hey,” Diego started, “do you think Klaus might relapse?”

Five turned to look at him, bemused by the sudden question. Until now, the longest conversation they’d had that morning was which brand of coffee was better. 

Diego had noticed a homeless man sitting by the entrance to the grocery store, and had bought a sandwich to give to the man. Five had watched the interaction with a poker face, eyes flicking from Diego to the thankful man. 

“Why would you ask me that?”

Diego shrugged and continued to put away the food. 

“Dunno. I saw that man and he reminded me of Klaus. And I was wondering, you think he went back to doing all that shit?”

Five’s expression hardened.

“I know it’s difficult for you to comprehend, but I don’t actually know everything, Diego. I don’t hold all the fucking answers, because I’m not a fucking magic-8 ball.”

Diego frowned at his brother.

“It was just a question, man. I figured you might’ve heard something in the street, I don’t know.” He threw a bag of crisps at Five, who caught without even looking. “What the hell is your problem?”

Five glared and threw a bag of carrots at Diego with more force than was actually necessary. 

“Nothing is my problem. It’s not my fucking business to know, is it? It’s not your business either, since we’re not actually each other’s problems anymore, thank fucking God.”

Something clicked in Diego’s brain. Five’s awful mood, the way he would shut them out the second anyone mentioned anything related to the umbrella academy, it all pointed to one thing. 

“You’re mad at us,” Diego realized. Five looked at him, unimpressed.

“What.”

“You’re angry at us for separating that day.” Five slipped his hands into his pockets, spine straight and one eyebrow raised in carefully calculated indifference.

“No I'm not. You’re all adults, do what the fuck you want.” His voice was forced into a neutral tone, revealing nothing. 

“Five, for fucks sake!” Diego threw the can of tomato juice at his brother’s head. Maybe that would knock him out of whatever the fuck his problem was. Five ducked, glaring at him, clearly annoyed. The can crashed against the wall and left a little dent, but neither reacted to it. “Come on, be honest, for once in your damn life.”

That did it. Diego knew it by the way Five bristled, by the way his shoulders tensed, how he met his eyes, his own hard and unforgiving. 

It was like when the air turned electric just before lightning struck. Every instinct screamed at Diego to duck. 

“Fine.” Five snarled, teeth bared, eyes spitting fury. “First of all, you do not get to call me dishonest. You don’t fucking get to, when I spent a godamn month telling you all about the end of the world, warning you, chasing after all of you blubbering idiots just to get charged with the blame when things went sideways. You don’t get to tell me I’m a liar when Allison fucking sold us out, when Klaus apparently had access to our dead brother and didn’t have the courtesy to inform us, when you all kept going on your little fucking sidequests.”

Five approached him, getting in his face. He was taller now, he could almost stand nose to nose with Diego. A 14 year old shouldn’t be intimidating, but looking into his brother’s eyes, the eyes of a seasoned killer, every instinct Diego had was screaming at him to fight or hide. Still, he kept quiet, holding his ground.

“I’m not fucking mad, Diego. I’m livid . I’m furious, and I’m mostly mad at myself for expecting anything different from you all.”

He stepped back, fists clenched, doing his best to compose himself. He wasn’t doing a very good job.

“Don’t tell me how I feel Diego, you don’t have the fucking right. Not when you all left like it was the easiest thing in the world.”

Silence hung heavy between them. Something told Diego not to speak, that Five wasn’t done. He remembered that first night he brought Five home. 

I wasn’t your business seven months ago, when you all fucked off without even looking back.

Oh. Oh fuck. 

“Do you know what happens to a thirteen year old that doesn’t technically exist?” Diego knew the answer, he’d seen it written in his brother’s body that first night.

“He ends up living in the street, surviving on people’s scraps. Did any of you fucking wonder what had happened to me?”

He hadn’t. He’d been so busy with Lila, with finding a job, with the baby coming, he hadn’t even wondered. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He’d been so used to thinking about Five as an adult, he hadn’t realized most people didn’t see him as the 59 year old he was. His voice seemed to finally work again, because he asked, almost in spite of himself,

“Why didn’t you call for help?”

“Oh from whom?” And the condescending voice was back. “From you? Luther and Klaus, wherever the fuck they are?”

“Allison-“

“Don’t fucking talk to me about Allison,” he snarled, “she got what she wanted, and she left us all for dead in the process. She could be dead for all I care.”

He didn’t mean it. Diego could see it in every line of his face, the anger and the heartbreak and betrayal he felt, had been feeling for seven months. 

Diego had been mad at Allison too, for a while. But then he and Lila had gone to their first doctor appointment, and he had seen the ultrasound, his baby, and suddenly he had understood. He’d taken Lila’s hand, his wife, and he’d understood why Allison had done it. It didn’t fix everything, it didn’t excuse her betrayal, or Luther and Klaus’ death (however temporary), but it made him understand. 

“And then there’s Viktor, who trusted her over us.” Over me, was what was left unsaid, but Diego had heard it in the way his voice cracked. “After everything, after dad killed Luther and Klaus, he trusted Allison.” He lowered his voice then, almost as if he wasn't speaking to Diego anymore. He stared at the ground, seemingly unable to hold Diego’s gaze anymore. 

“This reality she created, it ruined me. Without my powers, it finally dawned on me. None of you ever saw me as anything more than a fucking weapon, someone to give you the answers.”

At that Diego shook his head.

“That’s not true-“ but he didn’t get further than that. Five wasn’t done.

“-the moment we stumbled in here, the moment I became nothing more than a child ,” he spat out the word like it was poison in his tongue, “no one gave a single shit.” He laughed. It sounded like he was choking on it. “It’s fine, I should’ve realized from the very beginning. But I spent forty five years searching for a way to get back to you, so I let myself hope, like a fucking idiot. ” 

“Five-“ 

His brother looked up at him again, once again glaring and furious. 

“ Don’t pity me, Diego. I don’t need it. I don’t want your excuses, your motives. I get it . You have your own family now, and I’m happy for you. I am. ” And Diego believed him, because he believed Five loved them more than he wanted or would ever admit, so he let him continue. “But I’m stuck in this body, with no purpose, no plan, not one reason to live, not anymore. I’m ruined , and I can’t-“

He seemed to run out of breath then, out of fire, out of energy. Everything stopped, like the very room was holding its breath. 

Five curled into himself, ran a hand through his hair, eyes wide and staring at the ground. He looked like the old man he was, now more than ever. 

“For the first time in my life, I have no purpose,” he whispered. It felt like a confession, like a prayer. “I have nothing .” 

His voice cracked, his breath hitched, and for a moment, Diego was sure he was going to see his brother cry. The thought was vaguely disturbing, and he watched wearily as Five looked at the floor, jaw clenching and his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. 

“Five-”

“Give me a goddamn second,” he rasped out. His voice cracked again, so he coughed in a sad attempt to cover it up. 

He looked up at Diego wearily. Once again, his eyes hardened. It was like watching an injured animal that had backed itself into a corner. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” And with that, he turned towards the door. Looking for an escape.

Diego quickly stepped in front of him, crossed his arms and widened his stance. “No.”

“Diego, leave me alone!” Five snarled.

“No,” Diego snapped. He grabbed his arm roughly. Five tried to wrench it away, but without his powers there was no way he was a match for Diego. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to dump all of this shit on me and then fucking expect me to let you leave!” By the end Diego was shouting too, and they stood there, both heaving breaths through their anger, staring each other down. 

A few moments passed, Diego controlled his breathing. Once again, he remembered that first night. He wouldn’t lose his temper. Not this time. 

“Okay.” He grasped Five’s shoulders, a little more gently this time. The change in his demeanor must’ve surprised Five, because he didn't move away. Diego shook his brother a little, as if it would help him understand what he was about to say. 

“Okay. Five, I’m going to say something I don’t think I’ve ever told you. Ever.”

Five continued to stare at him wearily, like he couldn’t fathom what Diego was talking about. Diego swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth.

“Five, I’m sorry.”

Five recoiled like he’d been slapped. “What the hell are you sorry for?”

He genuinely looked confused. It almost made Diego want to laugh. He settled for smiling bitterly.

“For everything? For not listening to you back in the first 2019; for blaming everything on you back in ‘63, for expecting you to have all the answers.” He paused, making sure he was staring at Five right in his eyes when he said, “and I’m so sorry that none of us told you how happy we were to get you back.”

Five opened his mouth to protest that last one, but Diego beat him to it. 

“No. No . Listen. We were shocked at first, but I at least was glad you were okay, that you were alive.” His eyes hardened, he grasped Five’s shoulders tighter and shook him lightly again. “You didn’t make it easy to show, you little shit.”

Five huffed out what might’ve been a laugh. Diego took that as encouragement.

“But we were happy . We missed you, brother.”

Any ghost of a smirk slid off Five’s face, replaced by something Diego had never seen on his brother’s face. Five looked lost. That was the only word for it. Until now, Five had looked like the old tired man he was, but at that moment he looked painfully young. He searched Diego’s face for some tell that he was lying. He wouldn’t find any, Diego wasn’t lying. He remembered all too clearly those first few months after Five had disappeared: they had constructed a shift schedule, so one of them was always awake at night, just in case he came back. Reginald wasn’t too happy about it (those were the worst punishments the siblings had ever endured, just because they wanted their brother back, and wasn’t that fucked up), but fuck him. They missed their brother. 

After searching fruitlessly, Five looked confused, as if he couldn’t fathom the idea of someone missing him, of someone loving him. Then tears prickled his eyes, and Diego panicked. Shit, maybe he had over done it. He wasn’t about to take it all back, not when it’d been so hard to say it (and man had it been hard. Feelings sucked ).

So he did the only thing he could think of. With an exasperated click of his tongue, he wrapped his arms around his brother, pulling him close. Five’s breath hitched, his hands in the air, unsure. Diego held on, one hand on his back, the other pressed against his head. Gingerly, wiry arms wrapped around his back, applying the lightest pressure. Five buried his face in Diego’s shoulder.

“Fatherhood has made you soft.” Five muttered into his jacket. He held on tighter to Diego, who increased the pressure in return.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I know.”

They stayed like that for a little while, long enough to be awkward, and then some more until it wasn’t anymore. They stayed like that until Five’s hands stopped shaking from where he clutched Diego’s shirt, until Diego’s eyes were fully and completely dry and his mouth didn’t tremble. 

Finally, with one final pat on Five’s shoulder that nearly doubled him over, they separated, neither of them looking at each other. The silence was suffocating.

“So,” Diego coughed, then grunted. “Wanna get drunk?”

Five looked up from the floor, a slowly growing grin stretching across his face. There was a spark in his eyes he had been missing from the first day he’d gotten here.

“Yes please.”

“All I’m saying,” Five mumbled, swinging the bottle of tequila back and forth, his words slurred. “Is that none of you actually like me. I-I don’t even think any of us like each other… There's siblin' love there, s-s-sure. But ‘m not sure we like one 'nother.”

They were on their third bottle of booze, both of them sprawled out on the sofa. Diego frowned as he turned his head to Five. The movement made him dizzy, and for a moment he wondered if Five had a twin and he’d never noticed. Then he wondered just how fucking drunk he was.

“That’s not true. We like you,” he said, emphasizing the point by nodding, which made him dizzy again. 

“Say one nice thing about me,” Five slurred, trying his best to sit a little more upright, “I dare you.”

Diego frowned down at the floor, thinking hard. There had to be at least one good thing about the little shit. Then his eyes brightened. He turned to his brother and landed one clumsy hand on his shoulder. 

“Y’ always s-s-share your booze,” he said seriously, “and that’s a very nice thing to do."

Five nodded thoughtfully, looking oddly touched. 

“I do always share my booze.”

They both nodded, apparently satisfied. Five took another swig.

Just then Lila entered through the door, carrying a grocery bag and a half empty bag of chips. Okay maybe mostly empty. She was eight and a half months pregnant, sue her for indulging her cravings. 

“Hey, Lila!” Five called in a high pitched voice, pointing at her with the bottle. “Say one nice thing about me.”

Lila looked at them, then slid her gaze to the two empty bottles of tequila on the table. She turned around and walked towards the kitchen. 

“You have a cute dog.” 

Five and Diego looked down at mr. Pennycrumb, who was laying at Five’s feet fast asleep. Five and Diego nodded very seriously.

“That is also true.” Five said.

“There are two nice things about you.”

“I feel so cherished.”

“Christ,” Lila muttered as he watched them. “Just how drunk are you?”

“Just mildly,” Five muttered. Diego snorted and stole the bottle from Five’s loose grip. 

“Alright, scooch over.” She dropped in the middle of them, grabbing the tv remote as she did. “I’m exhausted, and all I did all day was go shopping for an hour. My legs started hurting fifteen minutes in.” She pushed another chip into her mouth, and then slapped Five’s clumsy hand away as he tried to nick some from her bag. “I’m telling you, being pregnant is no joke.”

“Why didn’t you call me, baby?” Diego frowned at her, “I would’ve come get you.”

Lila snorted. “In your sorry state? I don’t think so, love.”

Diego started looking guilty, and Lila could not stand his puppy eyes, so she smacked him on the shoulder.

“It’s fine, you two looked like you needed the drinks, anyway.”

The two brothers suddenly looked away from each other, matching awkward expressions in their faces. Lila grinned.

“Did you two finally talk, then?”

“How about a movie?” Diego suddenly said, snatching the tv remote from her. 

“Very subtle, sweetie.”

But Lila decided that she was too tired to torture the boys any longer (motherhood was making her soft, she reckoned), so she let the obvious change of subject flow. 

After a few minutes of scouting for options, a particular movie caught Lila’s eye. 

“Ever watched Dirty Dancing?” 

There was silence on either side, so she looked at them confused. The brothers were staring at each other over her head, a silent conversation obviously being held. 

“Can’t say that I have,” Five finally claimed. 

“That’s the one with that famous lift, right?” Diego asked, cool as a cucumber. 

Lila hummed, very aware that there was something they weren’t telling her, and hit play. 

To be fair to them, they lasted about ten minutes, sneaking glances at each other when they were sure the other wasn’t looking. After the tenth time, they caught each other's eyes and burst out laughing. 

Lila watched them, bewildered and amused. Her husband clutched his stomach, doubling over in his mirth. Five had his head thrown back, laughing harder than she'd ever seen him. They both eventually calmed down, spared a glance at each other, and then broke down again in a fit of giggles like a pair of schoolgirls. 

“Oi! What's this about then?” She finally asked, being fed up with being left in the dark. Five waved her question away, still trying to catch his breath.

“It’s a brother thing.”

“I’m your sister.” She grumbled. She hated adding the in-law part, it made it feel not real. 

“I know. That’s why I said ‘brother’.”

Oh. Oh. Lila blinked, caught off guard. Then, to her horror and humiliation, tears began filling her eyes. Damned hormones. 

“Okay then.” She managed to gasp out, and then stared intently at the tv. 

They were silent after that. A minute later, she felt a hesitant hand squeeze her own before it quickly pulled back. Lila grinned, but didn’t look at Five. 

The movie flew by, the credits rolled, and Diego switched off the tv. 

“How many times have you watched that movie?” Lila asked Diego.

Diego grinned lazily at her, still under the side effects of three bottles of tequila, but considerably more lucid now. 

“Between one and a hundred times,” he confessed, “we watched it when we were little, like, eleven or so. By the time we were thirteen we could recite it word for word. Once, Klaus convinced Luther to do the lift. It would’ve worked if Klaus hadn’t pitched forward too much. Luther had to catch him at the last second before he broke his jaw. Again.” 

Diego chuckled fondly at the memory. Allison, Five and him had laughed for ages, while Ben and Viktor had fretted over the two brothers, making sure they were okay before they joined in the laughter.

“Sounds like a nice memory.” Lila dropped her head on her husband’s shoulder. Diego kissed the side of her head absentmindedly.

“Yeah… we sang Time of my Life at Luther’s bachelor party.”

Lila perked up in interest. “Really?”

“With Five and Klaus as lead singers… but don’t tell him I’ve told you that, he’ll cut my tongue off.”

They both looked at Five, who had passed out half an hour earlier. He looked small as he slept, his hair mussed and over his eyes. Tiny terror, Lila thought fondly. 

“Pinky swear,” she vowed.

 They both got up, Lila gathered the bag of chips and the tequila bottles while Diego grabbed Five’s legs and placed them gently on the couch. He took off his shoes, spread the blanket over him, and then picked up mr. Pennycrumb, who, once placed on the sofa, walked over Five and curled up on his chest, his little flat face hidden under Five’s chin. Five merely grunted at the commotion, placed one hand on top of the dog, and continued to sleep. 

“Is he okay?” Lila asked. Diego shrugged.

“He’s getting there.” He turned to look at her and grabbed her hand. “We all are.”

Lila smiled up at his husband, who placed a loving kiss on her lips.

"That was sappy, even for you, love." 

Diego rolled his eyes at her, then regretted it when the room spun.

They left the living room hand in hand, and closed their bedroom door, turning in for the night. 

It was two weeks later when the baby came. 

Lila and Five were both sprawled over the couch, Lila’s feet on Five’s lap as they watched tv. Every once in a while, Lila would nudge Five with her big toe, and Five would swat her away. Lila would duck the blow, and then settle her feet once more in his lap. This had been going on for two hours when Lila nudged him with enough force to make him look up at her in annoyance.

“What.”

“I've been having contractions for a couple of hours now,” she informed him calmly. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Braxton Hicks contractions?”

She shook her head. “I’ve had those before, this isn’t it.”

“How many minutes apart?”

“Around five.”

“How long do they last?”

“ ‘bout a minute.” Five nodded thoughtfully, but made no effort to move, but his whole body tensed, barely enough for Lila to notice.

“How long have you been having them?”

“Thirty minutes or so.”

Five relaxed into the cushions once again. “We have half an hour more to go. Did you pack a bag?”

Lila nodded, relieved Five was so casual about this. If he was calm, she wasn’t about to start panicking. 

“Diego has had a bag packed for a week,” she tells him. Five scoffed, focusing on the tv once again.

“Diego should take a pill every once in a while. See if that calms him down.” 

Lila laughed, the fluttery feeling in her chest diminishing.

They stayed silent for a few minutes before Five spoke up.

“You nervous?”

Lila’s uterus contracted again, this time with a little more force. She winced.

“A little, to be honest… shit, these are starting to bloody hurt.”

Five patted her foot. He was making progress in the whole touch department. Exhibit a: her feet hadn’t been stabbed with a fork yet. 

“You’ll be fine. You’re mildly competent, and people do this everyday.”

Lila snorted. “Only mildly?”

“I wouldn’t want you to get a big head about it.” For that, he got a heel digging into his thigh.

Another minute of silence.

“You should call Diego.”

Lila hummed, thinking it over. “Not yet, he’ll leave work, and his shift ends in less than half an hour anyway.” 

They stayed silent for a while, and the Lila called,

“Five.” He turned to her. “Diego’s going to be a damn mess, please don’t work him up with your usual…” she gestured to all of him. “You-ness.”

And I’m scared shitless too, was left unsaid. Five’s eyes softened a little.

“I’ll do my best to behave.”

That was the best she was going to get out of him, so she grinned. “That’s mighty generous of you.” He shot her a crooked little smile. 

When the silence was broken once more, ten minutes later, it was Lila who called, “I’m glad you’re here, you little pisspot.”

He turned to look at her, bemused by the comment. She swallowed and carried on. “You’re a good brother, Five.”

Something twitched in his expression. It was surprise, softness, and a little bit of grief too. 

“When you’re not being an insufferable know-it-all, I mean,” she quickly added, looking at anywhere other than Five. 

Five blinked, still reeling at the comment. He looked at his watch. 

“We should probably call a cab now.” He got up, extending his hand to help Lila up.

“You get the cab, I’ll call Diego.” Five nodded, and she left to grab the bag from her bedroom. When she was out of sight, he heard her say into the phone, “hey, love…”

Five left the house, walking over to the side of the road. It was a pretty busy street, so he wasn’t too worried about having to wait too long for a cab. While he did, he let himself slip into his memories. 

I’m glad you came along… you’re a good brother. 

Klaus’ face, awkward but truthful. The memory, which had brought him comfort for a while, now hurt like a badly healed wound. 

We were happy. We missed you, brother. Diego, stern and firm, shaking some sense into him. 

That conversation had cracked something open in Five’s chest. A wound that he’d never even realized he had. Now it stung, but everyday it throbbed a little less. After all, he fully believed Diego hadn’t been lying. 

A flash of yellow caught his eye, jarring him from his thoughts, from his sadness and his regret and all those feelings he was still too hurt to confront or even acknowledge. He raised his hand to hail the taxi just as Lila went to close the door to the apartment. 

“Hold down the front, mr. Pennycrumb,” she told the pup seriously as she closed the door. 

A couple of minutes into the cab ride, Lila gripped Five’s hand. He looked up in surprise and no small amount of concern. 

“This is beginning to fucking hurt,” she gasped. Then she doubled over as much as she could with a swollen belly, grunting and squeezing the blood from Five’s fingers. 

Five looked at her, completely out of his depth. What the fuck was he supposed to say? 

He only hoped Diego was on his way, because he was not holding his wife’s hand through childbirth. He wasn’t that good of a brother. 

It was a couple of hours later, when Five was catching his breath, sitting in those uncomfortable plastic chairs in the hospital waiting room. 

He was used to high-risk situations, to fear and adrenaline mixing in your gut until it felt like you might jump out of your skin. But that afternoon had turned out to be one of the most nerve-racking hours of his long life. 

For one thing, hospitals freaked him out. The smell of antiseptic and rubber reminded him of those first few weeks at the commission. 

He’d been messed up after 40-something years in the apocalypse (duh), and the moment he had arrived, hands and voices were on him, asking questions in a dizzying speed, either at him or each other. Taking his pulse, checking his breathing, shining lights into his eyes; all the while the Handler had stood by his side, not letting go of his hand. It looked like a comforting gesture, but in reality her grip had been painful on his old bones, as if to remind him he was now tied to her. He had passed out not much later out of sheer overstimulation, and had woken up hours later, an IV in his forearm and his wrists and feet strapped down to the hospital bed. 

He shook his head to get rid of the memories, focused on where he was, who he was waiting to meet. He was truly happy for his brother, and he wanted to meet his niece, but he’d been dreading this day, if only because it brought up memories of their family. He couldn’t even decipher any more what the fuck he felt anymore when he thought about them. It hurt, but he had already grieved for them for most of his life, so he knew that it wasn’t exactly that. Besides, what a stupid concept, grieving for people that weren’t even dead. 

So, instead of that confusing (and somewhat terrifying) feeling, he clung to anger, to the thought that they would be here with him right now, waiting to meet their niece, if they weren’t all selfish pricks. 

If they hadn’t left him the moment he wasn’t useful anymore. 

He clung to it, the feeling that had risen that night they had arrived at the new timeline. He clung to his fury at Allison, for betraying them and putting all their lives at risk, the very ones Five had fought tooth and nail to protect for over 40 years. He clung to the betrayal that Viktor had made him feel when he’d ignored his siblings’ pleadings to stop Allison. 

He clung to every negative memory of his siblings, because the alternative was to hurt, and he’d had enough of that for a lifetime. And he was sick of it. 

Then the door opened, and Five was startled out of his thoughts for the second time that day. Diego grinned at him from the door, one of those sterile green gowns thrown over his usual clothes. Five got up, his heart in his throat. Diego was grinning, which was obviously a sign everything was great, but still, suddenly this wave of apprehension had crashed over his body, sending his stomach to his feet. It wasn’t an emotion he was familiar with, which left him cold all over. 

“Co- come m-meet your, your n-nice.” For once, the stutter taking hold of his tongue didn't seem to bother Diego. Still, Five waited until he got the entire sentence out before he stepped forward. 

As he passed through the threshold to the room, Diego clapped his shoulder, gripping it hard. Five let himself be steered to Lila’s side. She was whispering sweet nothings to the bundle in her arms, occasionally stopping mid-sentence to drop a kiss on the baby girl’s forehead or nose. She looked up once Five was at her side, grinning up at him, eyes shining with tears, brow covered in glistening sweat. 

“Gracia Anita Hargreeves, meet your uncle Five.” She smiled down at the baby, as if she couldn’t help herself. “He’s a pain in the ass, but he grows on you.”

He didn’t have to ask about the name. Gracia meant Grace in Spanish, a nice way to include both Diego’s moms, biological and robot. Anita for Lila’s mom.

There was something building up on Five’s throat, so he didn't dare try to speak, he just stuck his arms out awkwardly when Lila lifted the babe towards him. 

Five didn’t have a shred of experience when it came to kids, especially newborns, but his arms seemed to work on their own, nestling his niece’s head on the crook of his elbow, tucking one hand under her butt so her legs rested on his other arm. 

Gracia snuggled into his arms, seeming perfectly content with the new situation. She let out a little yawn, and Five watched her, mesmerized, unable to do anything else. She already had a full head of dark hair, her skin as dark as her mom’s. 

The situation finally dawned on Five. He looked at Diego in wonder. His little brother, the lovable hothead of the bunch, the one that punched first and asked questions later, had made a fucking human being. He used to convince this guy that swallowing bubbles would make him fly when they had baths together, and now he was responsible for a whole other person. Holy shit. 

“You have a kid.”

Diego laughed. It was a wet sound, there were tears in his eyes. “Yeah, bro, I do.”

They didn’t do this. They didn’t cry in front of each other, they didn’t share their feelings like normal people. Hell, the last time they had had an honest conversation they’d gotten drunk for the rest of the night. 

But Five looked down at the baby in his arms, felt his heart swell as her nose wrinkled in her sleep, and he knew he would love his niece until the day he died. It wasn’t like his conversation with Diego, his chest didn't crack open painfully. It was more gentle, like getting into a warm bed after a long day and letting yourself feel just how tired you really were. It had been a very long fucking day. 

“Hey, Diego,” he muttered. 

“Yeah, Five?”

Five looked up at his brother; swallowed the knot of pride and grief in his throat. “I wish they were here.”

Something softened in Diego’s eyes. He placed his hand on the back of Five’s neck. It was a gesture Five had seen a thousand times, Diego’s own weird version of affection. It grounded him, and he was thankful for it. 

“Me too.”

Five looked down at the baby girl in his arms, felt his brother and sister’s presence next to him, and let himself miss his siblings.