Chapter Text
Five scrutinized his reflection in the full length mirror. He’d done his best to affect an older appearance by wearing a pair of platform boots he’d found in Allison’s closet. Paired with dress pants, blazer, and the briefcases in each hand, Five hoped he could pass for a slim twenty something.
But as Five glared at his reflection he realized that, height or no height, there was still the problem of his face.
He sighed and returned to Allison’s closet. Didn’t she have a whole stack of sunglasses somewhere? He needed large ones.
When his eyes landed on the maroon fedora Five grinned. That might help too.
The damn cellphone was his last concession. Five promised himself that he would answer his siblings when called, no matter the annoyance or triviality. Yet it was with some surprise that he looked down at the screen to see Allison’s flashing name not one minute after stepping out of her apartment.
Still, he answered. “What is it?”
“Where are you going?” Allison said.
He frowned. “Nowhere.”
“I’ve got Vivint installed in my apartment. I can see that you opened the door.”
Vivint? He thought. Is that some kind of fancy camera?
Five glanced back at the apartment’s roof, looking for the tell-tale black orb.
“Five?” Allison said. “Why are you outside?”
He couldn’t find the camera, but no matter. She was halfway across the country. He struggled to hold both briefcases while also holding the phone to his ear, but managed to juggle one into a secure position under his armpit and resumed walking.
“I’m taking out the trash,” Five said.
“You mean you’re taking out the briefcases,” Allison said. “Dressed like some kind of hipster door to door salesman.”
“Fine. You caught me. I wanted to stash them somewhere secure.”
This much was true. Five couldn’t bring himself to destroy either briefcase. They were too valuable. But they were also dangerous. He needed to stow them somewhere out of reach, and well separate from each other, so that they could be retrieved only as necessary.
“I thought we agreed you’d stay inside,” Allison said. “You know, until we figure out what to do about the Institute?”
“Well, Allison,” Five bit out. “As you can clearly see for yourself, I’ve taken precautions against attracting their attention.”
“But we agreed-”
“I’m hanging up,” Five announced. “Give Ben my regards.”
Of course it would be Klaus to abuse the new phone. From the moment Five had bought the thing Klaus had made a point of calling at all hours to rant; a frivolous stream of grandiose monologues which Five would tolerate for ten minutes at a time before abruptly hanging up. After him it was Vanya who called the most, forever concerned about his “isolation.” And that concern was voiced before Allison had gone to New York to see Ben.
Yet it was Allison who proved the most trouble.
“When are you going back to the apartment?” Allison said. “Isn’t it getting dark outside?”
It was getting dark, but Five kept the sunglasses on anyway. At this time of evening concerned adults proved more troublesome.
“Don’t concern yourself with my business,” Five said.
Allison did not respond. Five took the phone off his ear to look at the screen. The call was still going.
“Hello?” Five said. “Allison?”
She still said nothing and Five could feel his heartbeat quickening, the sharp adrenaline spike of fledgling panic.
“Allison?!”
“Did you feel that?” Allison said.
“What?” he snapped.
“Did you feel it?”
“Feel what? ”
“The worry,” Allison said. “I could hear it in your voice. I scared you for a second there, didn’t I?”
He scowled. “I’m hanging up.”
“Wait, just let me-”
Five swiped the little red button and stowed the phone in his back pocket. He didn’t have time for mind games.
He had a bus to catch.
“Hear me out,” Allison said. “Let me apologize.”
He was sitting at the back of the Greyhound with the one remaining briefcase secure on his lap. After three missed calls and a slew of texts, his conscience had forced him to call her back.
“I’m listening,” Five said.
“I was just trying to make a point,” Allison said. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“You did no such thing.”
“Well, I’m sorry anyway,” Allison said. “It was mean spirited.”
“Alright.”
“But will you please go back to the apartment?” Allison said. “It’s late.”
Might as well rip off the Band-Aid, he thought.
“I’m not going back.”
Again, there was that silence. Five waited it out.
“Are you going to Arizona?” she finally said.
“Something like that.”
“No.”
He rolled his eyes. “Allison-”
“No,” she said. “I won’t let you do this.”
“You don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“Yes I do,” Allison said. “I can make you stay.”
Knowing what she meant, Five hung up.
He lasted three weeks. In that time he learned, through various siblings, that Allison had rushed back to California not long after their last phone call. She’d reported him as an abducted child and an Amber Alert with his name and description had been issued throughout the entire Los Angeles county.
It had been too late. Five made a clean getaway and might have maintained it indefinitely if it weren’t for one simple mistake: he kept answering his phone.
He never answered when Allison called, of course. He wasn’t stupid. But for everyone else, Five answered.
One day, he got a call from Luther.
“I heard a rumor,” It was Allison’s voice, but he was too slow to react. “that you teleported yourself back to my apartment.”
The first time Five had jumped through such a ridiculous distance had been the leap from New York to Dallas Texas. At the time he had blindly thrown them all backwards in time and it had been all he could do to keep a hold of his family. He hadn't given a single thought to the matter of location.
When they landed in Dallas, Five thought it was strange. Normally, when jumping through time, he would automatically arrive in the same location unless he put thought into it.
The theory Five favored to explain it was that his body had instinctively tapped into the portal he'd last opened in the time space continuum. Namely, the one that had finally returned him to a pre- apocalyptic 2019.
It was pure happenstance that the time jump had remained entangled with his last location, that of Dallas, but it opened Five's eyes to the possibilities.
How far could he stretch his spatial jumps?
When he made the trip from New York to California Five finally had opportunity and excuse to experiment with his spatial jumps. In doing so he found that, so long as the attempted location was a place he had visited and could visualize in his mind, it was possible to travel up to a thousand miles per jump.
The costs had outweighed the benefits, however, and he’d decided to reserve such jumps for emergencies.
Now Five traveled by stowing away on buses or freight trains. It was simply a more practical way to move.
And so Five was settled in the cargo hold of one such train when he answered the trap phone call from Luther.
"… rumor that you teleported yourself back to my apartment."
A blink later and Five was standing in front of Allison’s apartment complex.
He cursed and spun around, breath labored, only for Allison’s voice to drift back out of the phone, “ I heard a- ”
Five flung the phone away and tried to teleport, but he was out of juice. He broke out into a run.
“Five!” Luther’s voice called after him. “Wait!”
Five glanced over his shoulder. Luther was charging out of the apartment with the urgency of a man whose wife had just gone into labor.
“Shit!” Five huffed. “F-fuck off!”
Luther would quickly gain on him, so he had to think fast. Five made a beeline for the nearest potential crowd: a nearby Paul Smith store, which generally attracted a lot of foot traffic.
Teenagers enjoyed loitering outside the building to take photos of themselves against the Paul Smith’s pink wall, for some reason. Five had been annoyed by this fact when sitting in the passenger seat of Allison’s car, driving by on the way to her apartment after his rescue from the Institute for Exceptional Youth. Now he seized on the memory like a drowning man gasping for oxygen.
Five ran and hoped he was going in the right direction.
“Five, please!” Luther called.
Again, Five tried to teleport. Again, he failed. How many miles had he jumped to get back to LA? How far had he gotten before Allison ruined it?
The building’s garish pink wall came into view and Five was relieved to see the people milling about, the crowd growing thicker as he approached. Now he could take advantage of his small stature, slipping between pedestrians like a motorcycle through traffic.
Another glance over his shoulder showed Five that Luther’s hulking frame had no such freedom of movement. His brother could only stare helplessly over the heads of the strangers that separated them.
Five dug his nails into his palms, determined not to fold under the weight of Luther’s visible heartbreak. He had left for the good of the family. Five knew their opinion on the issue, they’d each made their protests heard over these past three weeks, but they didn’t know what he knew. There was no way to make them understand.
Protected by the crowd, Five slowed his pace and struggled for air. His side was cramping, sweat was running into his eyes, and he’d dropped his sunglasses at some point. A young woman, who couldn’t have been older than eighteen or so, grabbed Five by the elbow and examined him.
“You alright, kid?”
Five nodded and shook her hand off.
“Just wait a second,” the woman- no the girl- said. “Are you in trouble?”
He tried to answer her, but he was panting heavily. Why was it so hard to catch his breath?
“Kid?”
He shook his head. “Not-” Five could barely choke the word out. “No.”
“Where are your parents?”
He glared at her. Tried to walk away, but she easily followed.
“Take a deep breath,” the girl said.
I am! Five thought. That’s all I’m doing!
For some reason, the more he tried to breath, the less oxygen he was actually receiving. He was panting in quick little bursts now, but black spots were swimming into his field of vision.
“You’re having a panic attack.” The girl reached for his arm again and Five flinched, warping away from her.
He collapsed a few feet away and heard someone scream.
Multiple people began shouting at once, their voices getting garbled up in each other. Five couldn't understand what they were trying to say.
Then hands were accosting him, grabbing and squeezing, trying to drag him off. Five lashed out at his attackers by punching, kicking, and biting as necessary.
But he couldn't breath and that impaired his ability to fight. The masses overtook him.
And then, blissfully, he was unconscious.
“I heard a rumor you were calm,” someone said. “Calm and awake, but really sleepy. You’re too tired to go anywhere. You just want to rest.”
There was a cartoon on the wall in front of him. Three bobble headed figures with tiny little bodies dangling under their massive heads.
“You’re awake, right Five?”
Blue, red, and green. The cartoon image of three little girls, their sausage arms and legs arranged in a facsimile of some kind of action pose.
“Five!” Allison walked in front of the wall Five had been examining. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” Five nuzzled his face against the pillow under his cheek. “But 'm tired.”
“That’s good,” Allison said. “But stay awake for a bit, okay?”
“You said he fainted?” A man came into view next to Allison. Five didn’t recognize him.
“Yes,” Allison said. “I think he just overexerted himself a bit. But I thought you could check-”
“I still think it’s unethical to use your hypnotic nonsense on children,” the man said. “Who knows how it’ll affect his brain development? I hate to think how many times you did this to Claire-”
“This isn’t about Claire!” Allison said.
They had just arrived, but Five was already tired of watching them bicker. He turned onto his back and noticed there were cartoon-y stars and planets on the ceiling.
That’s right. This was Claire’s room.
“I think it is, Allison.” The man had an annoying voice. Five covered his ears, but he couldn’t block it out. “I can’t believe I agreed to unsupervised weekends. You said you wouldn’t use that power anymore.”
“Please,” Allison said. “Please, just examine him. I’m worried he might be concussed or something.”
“Then you should take him to a hospital,” the man said. “I’m an Orthodontist, Allison.”
“For god’s sake, Patrick-”
“Shut up,” Five muttered. “You’re too damn loud. Both of you.”
The man- Patrick, Five realized, Claire’s father- tutted reproachfully. “How old is this kid? What did you say happened to his parents?”
“I told you, he’s family.”
“Right,” Patrick said. “Like Luther is just family. ”
“Shut up,” Five hissed, struggling to sit up. Why the hell was he so fucking tired? As he moved Five got the impression that there was a weight on his limbs, an unnatural fatigue.
He felt Allison’s hand on his shoulder. Instead of helping him up, she pushed him back against the bed.
“Hold on, Five. Lie still.”
He meant to retort with something cutting, but the pillow under his head welcomed him with its softness.
Why was he trying to get up, anyway? He was sleepy.
“Open your eyes, kid.”
Five did so and was met with harsh light. He closed his eyes against it.
“Keep them open,” Patrick said. “I just need to take a quick look.”
Five opened his eyes and glared into the light.
“That works,” Patrick said. “Thanks.”
The light was turned off. Five looked around the room, blinking, and realized Luther was sitting on the floor on the other side of the bed. He smiled at Five when they made eye contact.
“He’s not concussed,” Patrick said. “But you should undo your spell. It could be masking the symptoms to a different problem.”
“If he’s not concussed, we should let him sleep,” Allison said. “I think he just needs some rest.”
“Allison-”
“You can go now,” Allison said. “I’ll walk you out.”
She ushered him out of the room and Five frowned.
He felt like he was missing something.
“Luther.” Sitting up was a struggle, but Luther scrambled closer to help him get upright. “What’s… what happened?”
“It’s like Allison said,” Luther said. “You overdid it.”
“What did I overdo?”
“A spatial jump,” Luther said. “Sorry, we didn’t know how far you were. We wouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”
The frazzled pieces of the day's events were slowly returning. Five almost laughed out loud when he realized the mistaken assumption they must have made. They blamed the spatial jump for his… what had the girl called it? A panic attack.
Well alright. Five wouldn’t correct them.
“Don’t be sorry,” Five said.
“Sorry.”
Five shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired.”
“Right, but… aside from that?”
Five frowned. “Nothing else.”
“What do you mean?”
Five pushed the fluffy pillow away from him and leaned against the bed’s headboard.
“Allison Rumored me, didn’t she? What did she say?”
“She was just trying to help.”
“What did she say?”
“That you feel kind of sleepy but awake?” Luther said.
“What else?”
“I don’t-"
“What else?”
Luther scratched his head. “Something about being calm and tired?”
Five chuckled. “Well... that won’t stick for long.”
“Sorry,” Luther muttered.
“Why are you always so damn sorry?” Five said. “You act like everything's your fault.”
“I feel like I let you down,” Luther said. “First with your… with the younger you. And now. Well.”
Five regarded Luther carefully. “If I ask you to do something for me, will you do it?”
“Not if it has to do with you leaving again."
“It doesn’t. Technically."
Good old reliable Luther, as eager to please as ever, leaned forward. “What is it?”
“Listen carefully...”
Allison used two types of Rumors. The first kind involved straightforward commands.
When she gave a command the act would be carried out immediately and without hesitation. But as soon as the action had been completed Allison would lose her hold and the victim would need to be enthralled anew with a repetition of the triggering “I heard a rumor” phrase.
She would often be interrupted at that point. Or if she wasn’t, she would eventually run out of simple commands. Likewise if she made a command that was too complicated, the listener could shake it off.
Their father had quickly caught onto the liability and had explained to a young Allison the best way to work around it: Take advantage of the victim’s suspension of disbelief.
There the second type of Rumor was born. To use it well Allison would need to word her Rumor in a way that made the actions required of the victim sound reasonable, so that they would willfully carry out what was needed of them while maintaining a fraction of their autonomy.
Example: when Allison had tricked the employee at the Institute for Exceptional Youth into escorting her in and out of the building. The man had gone so far as to aid and abet in Five’s escape, but he’d been under the false impression that he was following the orders of a superior.
Similarly, the Rumor that had been used on Vanya planted a believable lie in the depths of her subconscious. The idea had remained in place for twenty five years; the illusion only shattering when blatant information to the contrary presented itself.
All this had been detailed in the old man’s notes. When he initially read through them Five had marveled at the potential his sister had to reshape a person's mind.
Then he'd been disgusted by his own fascination. It was morbid, in a way.
But now? Now it would be useful. An elegant solution to his paradox problem. Certainly a step up from his vague "get as far away from my family as humanly possible" plan.
He just needed Allison’s cooperation.
“Absolutely not,” Allison said.
“Then I’ll kill myself,” Five said. It was a bluff, but he knew the possibility would frighten her.
“Fuck you!”
“Should I kill the doppelganger instead?” Five said. “Does that sound better to you?”
"They both sound horrible and you know it."
"Then save me," Five said. "It’s not the same as what Dad made you do to Vanya-"
"I can't believe you'd ask me to do something so… so…"
"Think of it like medicine," Luther said. "It's like Five caught a weird illness and… like, with cancer patients doesn't the radiation make them really sick? But it also saves their lives."
"An imperfect metaphor, Luther," Five said. "It's somewhat like that, sure. Just without the pain and hair loss."
"Fuck you both," Allison said.
Luther reached out to hold her hand. "Allison-"
"It doesn't make sense." Allison withdrew her hand from his grasp. "I thought Paradox Psychosis was a physical thing? Wouldn't it still affect them both even if… even if I do it?"
"From what I've been told the affliction is Time's way of expelling trouble makers," Five said. "It's rooted in the mind because the brain is where we make our decisions, see? And all decisions, big and small, are the catalyst for potential branching paths in an individual’s personal timeline. If the mind is touched by an outside source it gets moved, like when a scientist observes an electron, understand?"
They did not understand. That much was clear from their expressions.
But Luther nodded anyway. "Right. Yeah."
Allison furrowed her brow, turning his words over in her mind, and then proved herself intelligent by saying, "But then wouldn't every time traveler catch Paradox Psychosis? Whether or not they talked to a doppelganger?"
Five snapped his fingers and pointed at her proudly, "Good point! The reason they don't is because time is flexible. We aren't, not when we divorce ourselves from Time, but when we remain within Time's current we're as malleable as Play-Doh."
Luther gave up pretending he understood. "Play-Doh?"
"The base material remains the same," Five explained. "But the shape of the Play-Doh changes depending on the hands that sculpt it. Think of the hands as Time. Or Circumstance, if that makes more sense."
"Circumstance?" Luther said.
Allison sighed. "It doesn't make more sense, Five. None of this makes sense."
He threw his hands up. "This is why I tried to leave!"
"Why can't you just stay here in L.A?" Allison said. "We're so far away from the other Five already."
"It's not just about the fabric of reality," Five said. "Though I like to think that maintaining the fabric of reality would be enough motivation on its own-"
"Five."
Five sighed. "It's also about the Commission."
Luther sighed too.
"What?" Allison said. "What about them? I thought-"
"They're an unknown entity at this point," Five said. "The only thing I do know is that regardless of changes to management or staff their core mission statement should remain the same. Their goal is to protect the timeline."
"I never understood that," Luther said. "What are they protecting the timeline from?"
"That part is open to interpretation," Five said. "But they have software that can detect anomalies like the one my doppelganger surely created the moment he arrived in 2019. It's almost certain that they'll be motivated to act on Time's behalf if we don't take pains to solve the problem ourselves."
"Then what did you think would happen if you'd made it to Canada or wherever you were going?" Allison said. "This new idea feels like a random leap-"
"I thought someone would show up to kill me," Five said.
Luther gaped at him. "Someone from the Commission?"
"Yes," Five said. "Between me and the doppelganger I'm the one that doesn't belong."
"Neither of you naturally belong in 2019," Allison said. "And neither does Ben for that matter! So why would they target you and not either of them?"
"Because my internal continuity has been erased," Five said. "Humans are not as flexible as Time once we've divorced ourselves from it. A time traveler makes themselves vulnerable to paradox. That's why Paradox Psychosis crops up when you encounter a doppelganger. And that's why-"
"I'm not taking your memories, Five!"
"Then let me die!" Five shouted.
Allison's face crumbled and Five knew what was coming next. He didn't want to see it.
He teleported to another room. There were limited options in Allison's apartment, so he ended up in her bedroom.
It took them two minutes to physically follow him, slamming the door open and bursting in as if the hallway behind them were on fire.
Five flinched when Allison flung herself at him, embracing him in a desperate hug.
"I'm sorry I wasn't nicer to you while I had the chance." Allison spoke quickly and Five tried to hold himself still in deference to her palpable urgency. "I'm sorry I didn't spend more time with you, or introduce you to Claire, or-"
"Stop it." Five warped out of her arms, which had squeezed tightly enough to remind him of his earlier suffocation. "Luther, can you explain to her that amnesia is not death? We all saw Vanya when she-"
"Five," Luther said. "You can't logic your way out of everything."
Again Allison approached him, perhaps with the intention of engaging in another hug, but this time she simply hovered over him.
They were both so damn tall.
"Are you okay?" Allison said. "I didn't mean to scare you."
He scoffed incredulously, taking in her smeared mascara and general dishevelment.
"You're about as scary as a runny painting, Allison."
She wiped at her face, chuckling, and said, "You don't have to be ashamed."
Five scowled. "I have nothing to be ashamed of."
Allison looked at him carefully. Then she turned to Luther. "Can you give us a minute alone?"
Luther nodded. "But you won't… do anything yet, right? I think everyone should get a chance to talk to him before you… you know."
Allison glared at him and Luther nodded again. "Of course you won't. Sorry."
She waited for Luther to leave the room. Then she threw herself onto her bed with a dramatic sigh. "I'm exhausted. Are you exhausted?"
Five shrugged.
"I noticed this a while ago," Allison said. "But you always teleport out of hugs."
"Not always."
"Usually, then."
He eyed her wearily. "So?"
She smiled at him. "Do you want to lay down with me?"
"No."
"I'll give you plenty of space." Allison rolled over so that she was lying at the extreme edge of her bed. "I won't touch you."
"I don't understand you," Five said. "What are you doing?"
"I don't know," she said. "I'm trying to calm down. Do I seem calmer?"
He took in her position on the bed, stretched out on her stomach with her chin propped up on her palm, elbow propped up on a pillow.
"I suppose you seem calm," Five said. "But looks can be deceptive."
"True," Allison said. "Like yours."
"Like mine," he agreed.
She sat up, folding her legs into a pretzel, and groaned. "I wish I knew how to talk to you."
"Generally, you'd simply arrange words into sentences," Five quipped. "And voice them aloud."
She laughed. "Not what I meant, asshole."
Five sat down at the edge of her bed. "I have trouble too."
"You do?"
"Vanya says I don't communicate," Five said. "Which is frustrating because I thought I did. I thought I was saying all the things that needed to be said."
"That's really sad."
Five smiled. "Delores thought so too."
Allison tilted her head. "Who?"
That's right. Allison had never met Delores.
"A friend of mine," Five said.
"A friend? Okay." Allison leaned toward him. "There's a lot I don't know about you, isn't there?"
Five shrugged.
Slowly, Allison held out her hand, palm up. It hovered in the air between them, as uncertain as his future.
Five raised an eyebrow.
"Just hold my hand," Allison said. "For a little bit?"
Five placed his palm against hers and she entwined their fingers.
"Aaaw," Allison said. "Your hand is so small."
He rolled his eyes and she laughed again.
“It’s not too late, you know,” Five said. “I can still meet Claire.”
“There’s time for that?”
“Yes.” Five gave her hand a squeeze. “There’s some time.”