Chapter Text
The moon waxed and waned below The Girl's feet, rendering the starlight path she treaded upon visible. The darkness that slunk across the sky's empty depths was palpable and she had half a mind to reach for it with her fingertips to see if her hand would pass through it or not. Stars glittered in luminous streaks, melting across the black canvas of the world. Occasionally, one would burn out of existence in a shower of sparks. She did not care. It would be replaced soon enough.
The Girl hadn't wanted to visit Hell, but there were important matters to discuss and the Three had decided to name the dratted place their meeting point. Death had argued hard for that one and while The Girl had firmly served as the opposition to that particular idea, Alium had lost the bet and it was only fair. Besides, it was only going to be this way for another one hundred years - they'd only agreed on five hundred, and she'd much rather make this bothersome trip than invite Death into Heaven.
Hell was only a few hundred yards away, and as The Girl approached briskly, she spotted many different sights that were definitely something to see so early in the morning. Adults and children alike burnt in the fields of punishment, their skin blackening under the weight of their sins and their voices bouncing off the walls of their grief, high and tormented. Fires bloomed to life unexpectedly, dotting the area like mini explosions. Occasionally they'd catch an unsuspecting individual and reduce the perpetrator to agonised smithereens.
The Girl - contrary to common belief - did not like to punish people in such a way. If it were her decision to make, she would've crafted a personal Hell for the sinners, preyed upon their biggest fears, sharded apart their minds as if they were nothing more than a turkey being dissected. However, Death had never seen the appeal in that; from their point of view, making pain personal was not necessary if they still ended up dealing pain at all. The Girl often wished Death would close their mouth.
Alas, she had already arrived, and there was no use complaining when the Three had bigger problems on their hands. As soon as she stepped inside the dark, crystallized throne room - cliché, if you asked her, it wasn't as if she had numerous clouds and baby angels within her realms - Alium immediately started speaking.
"He has arrived! Alium cried in joy, its hands braced upon the table as if it was the only thing keeping it up right.
"We are all aware," The Girl stated fondly. "He has been most...difficult, in light of recent events."
"I'm assuming you mean the whole 'I'm an outsider, nobody wants me' breakdown he had." Alium twisted in its seat giddily, fingers playing repetitively with the golden locket cinched around its throat. "Tell me, has he run yet?"
"Soon," Death cut in, their eyes narrowed and down cast. "Soon he will run, and soon he will uncover the truth."
The Girl frowned, which was such a rare occurrence that the other two deities' eyes immediately snapped to her face. "Will that create any problems? I would like to think the truth wouldn't tear them apart."
"What we like isn't what we always get," Death whispered ominously, their fingers worriedly tapping on the table. The sound was extremely annoying. "I fear for their futures."
"For good reason too!" Alium crowed gleefully, way too cheerful for their current predicament.
"Perhaps we could orchestrate a diversion," Death continued seriously, completely ignoring Alium. "We could send him on an opposite route, hide the truth from his eyes and ears forever."
It did seem like the best solution to their problem, but The Girl immediately recognised it as the wrong one.
"No." She shook her head, wrapping her knuckles on the stone table for all of their attention. "No. To deny him a choice would be followed by disastrous consequences. The truth always comes out eventually. The turmoil he will suffer through now will be nothing on the pain that he might feel after decades of being by their sides and truly building trust for them. I have full faith he will return to them eventually, he has no one else in the world."
"What about his mother?" Death asked, still looking sceptical about the new plan. "If there's anyone he'd turn to in this difficult time, it would surely be her."
At the mention of Grace Hargreeves, Alium immediately sobered. "He may visit his mother, that possibility we can't afford to ignore. But the real question is if his father would accept him."
The Three exchanged a bitter look at that, all of them understanding exactly what Alium meant. They wished they could rewrite the future, save Five from the inevitable wounds he'd be dealt, but everything happened for a reason and it wasn't their place to interfere.
"Have we reached an agreement then?" The Girl asked, desperate to escape the realm in which she didn't belong.
"Aye," Death agreed.
"Aye," Alium repeated.
The Girl nodded curtly, already climbing to her feet, before an icy hand locked around her wrist.
"Wait!" Death demanded, piquing Alium's interest. "What title does he bear?"
The Girl was ashamed to find that the thought had completely escaped her mind. Death was right, they had to name him a suitable title. The other immortals had already received theirs: Spaceboy, The Kraken, The Rumour, The Seance, The Horror and White Violin. The Girl supposed they could go with something to do with time and space, such as 'The Time Weaver' or "Space Prince' but none of those felt quite right.
Five Hargreeves was just a child, powerful and crazily intelligent, but still so young. He had yet to live, yet to breathe, yet to even dip his toes in the waters of life. He was one of the best people The Girl had breathed life into, the only person The Girl truly liked. Five Hargreeves reminded her of herself, in an odd way, and she had taken him under her wing a long time ago. So the name she had finally chosen felt oddly fitting.
For one of the first times ever, The Girl smiled.
"The Boy. His name is The Boy."
---
Light filtered through the slits in the grey curtains that framed the windows, beams of blinding yellow creeping across the damp tiles of the bathroom and plunging the area in dusky gold. Five had been awake for an hour or two by now, but he didn't feel inclined to climb to his feet and start the day as if everything was okay and just as it had been before. Because it wasn't okay, and nothing was the same and Five felt more than content to hole himself in the bathroom and dissociate.
Unfortunately, that wasn't a permanent solution to his problems, or even an option.
The bed was already creaking, the lights being switched on, the curtains being drawn back and footsteps thudding against the alabaster floor. Allison would knock eventually and confront him whether she knew what he'd done or not. She'd at least need to take a piss.
With a strangled cry, Five pushed himself to his feet, clinging to the edge of the bathtub with cold, shaking fingers. His clothes had frozen in the night, hardening and beginning to stick to his every limb. Never mind the blood that encrusted everything he touched. The water couldn't wash away everything after all, especially not what lingered inside.
Not allowing himself time to fret over his dishevelled and downright catastrophic appearance, Five swept the bathroom with his eyes, searching for a quick and easy escape route. His desperate gaze almost immediately landed upon the window, half opened and letting in cool blasts of air. That would do nicely.
With a colossal heave, he stepped out of the bathtub, sighing as several litres of water sloshed out with him and blood flaked off his clothes to join the mess on the floor. The mess that was becoming a puddle that was becoming a miniature ocean, only aided by the droplets that rolled off his person. He supposed he should feel bad for Cha Cha, it was her bathroom that he'd laid waste to after all, but he couldn't muster even a hint of remorse after what she'd done. Betrayal was a common theme in Five's life, but it was an unwelcome and usually unforgivable one too.
Once Five reached the window, he unclasped the lock with shaking fingers and slid the rest of the glass open, almost sobbing in relief when the space turned out to be big enough to house his body. Slinging one of his legs over the plastic pane, he pulled himself up and across, balancing on the tiny ledge that stuck out of the bricks on the other side. Silently, he shut the window behind him, leaning his back against the glass.
Five was at a loss for what to do.
He couldn't face Allison or go back to the other immortals, that much was for sure. Then what else could he do?
You could go home, a tiny voice whispered in the back of his mind, laced with persuasion.
Shut up, he shot back indignantly, exterminating that idea before it was allowed to fester and grow. I don't have a home.
What did one do when they were homeless?
Well, he wasn't trying to die just yet, and even if he was, it wasn't as if it would work. He should probably try to collect the essentials that would sustain him, even for a little while. Hopping off the narrow ledge, Five landed jarringly upon the gravel below, his ankle twisting as a sharp pain radiated from the bone. Almost immediately, it popped back into place, the dull ache disappearing entirely. He would still never get over how handy and miraculous that was.
It turned out hobbling down the street in tattered and spoiled clothes wasn't such a great idea; already two women descended upon him like motherly vultures, checking him over for injuries and asking if he was okay, did he need an ambulance, where were his parents, why was his eyes glowing—
When Five looked again trepidatedly, he was horrified - and a little relieved, though he'd never admit that out loud - to find that the overbearing ladies were crumpled on the floor, still and unmoving. However, their stomachs still fell and rose in an erratic rhythm, prompting Five to sidestep their unconscious bodies and start down the street again. Any time that people with a hero complex that could rival Diego's approached him, he'd either wave them off with reassurances and promises of heading back home soon or he'd knock them out cold, entirely unsure of how he was doing it. He'd never laid a finger upon any of them, and yet they still joined the ever growing trail of bodies behind him, slack and almost peaceful on the pavement. Fortunately, it seemed to divert most of the public's attention off of him, allowing him a silent and undisturbed exit.
Only when the local supermarket entered Five's line of vision did he slow to a stop, abruptly becoming aware of his irregular breathing pattern and hammering heartbeat. He was still weak and frigid from the night spent beneath the icy water, sobbing until every drop of liquid left his body and he could do nothing more but sit there, burdensome and alone.
All the more reason to enter the supermarket, that tiny voice suggested again, lilting and concerned. For once, Five took its advice.
The supermarket was obnoxiously clean and cheerful, the white washed walls plastered with posters displaying cheer and charm, blinding him with its sickening happiness everywhere his eyes landed. The colours and bold lettering jumped out at him, mocking as it was defeating, reminding him once again that the same happiness it possessed was the one he did; fake.
As annoying and sour as the building was, it was mostly empty, extremely spacious, and bursting with all the things that Five would ever need. Once he exited with his allocated items, he'd construct a game plan and decide where the road of life would take him next. Definitely not back to Reginald's murder mansion, but he was softening to even that idea after realising the gravity of his situation in all its naked glory. He may have superpowers and be immortal, but the everyday horrors of life didn't - and wouldn't - escape him, and as a sheltered child growing up in a carefully crafted bubble, he'd have to learn a thing or two about survival to truly make it on his own. That thought was decidedly unpleasant and so sheer, like a looming cliff side, that Five refused to let himself acknowledge it until he had no choice but to.
When Five first entered, a few random stragglers shot him strange looks, but after he bared his teeth and picked up a meat knife with a particularly interested look, they backed off, muttering under their breaths about teenage gangsters nowadays. Five distantly wished Klaus or Ben were with him. They always made fun of those types of adults, constantly striving to cheer Five up.
You're not going to see Klaus and Ben again though, so stop thinking about them, his brain yelled at him, and Five begrudgingly recognised the logic in that order and vanquished all thoughts about the other immortals to the best of his abilities. It would only hurt him more in the long run if he started allowing himself time to miss them.
The shelves were lined with all kinds of products, ranging from milk to condoms - he shivered at the flashbacks - and he immediately singled out a massive problem. What the fuck did you buy to survive?
His mind had just been forcing him along all this time with the promise of 'essentials' but what would classify as an essential in the first place? Toothpaste? Soap? Underwear? Food? Coats? Technology? Pen and paper? Fucking socks?
Five eventually settled upon underwear, a few random items of clothing, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a duffle bag, shoes, stray toiletries, a couple hundred water bottles and a notebook. Just as he was about to make a quick getaway, something caught his eye, immediately peaking his interest. Nestled behind the stock of countless water bottles that Five had diminished, a small row of bottles stood, filled to the brim with unknown liquids. After peering closer at the labels, he finally realised that his suspicions had been correct.
Alcohol.
Five bit his lip in concern, hands twitching at his sides, aching to take, to taste. After all, he'd once been privy to a conversation between Ben and Klaus, having accidentally eavesdropped when he passed them in the hallway. They'd been in the middle of a meaningful discussion, prompting Five to scurry past and leave them alone, but before he'd made his shameful departure, he'd heard Klaus say something, a line that had been tattooed into his memory ever since.
Alcohol makes the pain bearable.
He knew the risks of consuming alcohol: Pogo and Reginald had warned him countless times about how he should never let his guard down like that and indulge in something as dangerous and addictive as the substance always proved to be. Reginald had gone even further than that - always the first to criticise people who drank alcohol or took drugs. Although Five recognised the danger with alcoholism, especially when it came to someone as young as himself, his opinion differed from his father's. Klaus was one of the best people he knew, and the other immortal had religiously taken alcohol too, for an entire lifetime - and longer - at that. It was because Klaus was so skilled in his knowledge of the matter that Five simply accepted he must be right, alcohol probably did alleviate pain, and who was he to refute or refuse that?
With one last furtive glance around the aisle, Five swiped one large bottle from the shelf and tried to quell his guilt.
After shoving everything into the duffle bag and slinging it over his back, Five crept towards the back of the store, quickly entering the bathroom and shutting the cubicle door. There would surely be no cameras in here, right? He didn't really understand public bathrooms; he'd never been allowed out of the house long enough for that.
After a moment or two of intense concentration, Five was relieved to see that familiar blue glow surrounding his balled fists as the pull inside his chest elongated and expanded. His powers almost resembled a vast ocean within his mind, and he dove into it, letting it consume him.
With a loud pop, Five materialised on the other side of the supermarket. As soon as he realised that his spacial jump - that was surely what it was - had worked, he burst into a sprint, launching himself across the pavement despite the shouts and rude elbowing he received. Only in the middle of his mad dash did he realise that he'd forgotten to steal food as well, and he probably should've changed in the bathrooms. Go figure.
Maybe he was just having an off day or his brain cells had frozen overnight, but Five made yet another impulsive decision and decided to stumble into the darkest alleyway he'd ever seen, hoping to escape the disgruntled citizens swarming behind him.
Once the street quietened, Five allowed himself to slide down the brick wall behind him, carelessly bruising his back in the process. With trembling fingers, he unclasped the top of the alcohol bottle, raising it to his mouth and taking a tentative sip.
A few sips turned into a few chugs turned into almost all of the bottle emptying. The liquid had tasted horrible at the beginning, but just as Five had been about to place it back down disappointedly, a feeling overcame him, clouding his senses and blissfully, ever so blissfully, bestowing peace upon him. He decided he loved this feeling, this head empty atmosphere. Klaus was right after all. The ache in his heart had all but vanished.
So had his coherency, for when the barrel of a gun slammed over his head, he was too slow to defend against it.
Black spots danced in and out of Five's vision, rendering him weak and immobile. His thoughts were sluggish, way too sluggish, and the fuzz lodged in the base of his brain was increasingly hard to think around.
Distantly, through the static that played on an endless loop in his ears, he could hear his assailant speaking, voice accusatory and unmistakably feminine.
"—killed her. You deserve death Five Hargreeves."
Yeah, he already knew that. He didn't need a random woman who obviously condoned gun laws to shove it in his face, literally. She obviously wasn't of the same opinion, for with an angry snarl, she aimed a kick at his ribs, blatantly taking satisfaction in the crunching noise that followed afterwards.
Five groaned weakly, rolling onto his side and dry heaving against the ground, hopelessly wishing that his body would heal faster, for it felt like a hot iron was being pressed mercilessly against his side and wasn't letting up.
"You killed her," the woman repeated, voice blazing with fury. For a horrible moment, Five thought she was talking about Allison, but then his guilt was replaced by confusion when she shouted the next few words, "I don't have a girlfriend anymore because of you—"
"I didn't," Five wheezed, trying - and failing - to draw enough breath into his lungs. "I didn't kill your girlfriend."
"Stop lying!" the stranger screamed, tearing at the roots of her hair in frustration. "Just— tell me why."
After a beat of silence, the woman snapped, lunging at him and straddling his waist, easily pinning his wrists against the floor. Then she raised her fist, and Five recognised the shift in her brain, from sanity to murder, and all he could do was screw his eyes shut and wish to be anywhere else, somewhere safer, warmer, kinder.
Despite the mental gearing he did before her hits landed, he was still shocked by how much they hurt. Sure, Reginald had beaten him senseless in the past, but the old man's violence had never veered into actual danger, something that would truly threaten Five's life. His father had always held back somewhat, but this woman, this person consumed by grief and the desire to have revenge, was certainly not doing the same.
"This— this isn't even a quarter of the pain that you gave her! You deserve so much worse you cunt!" the woman screamed, unflinching in her attack as blood sprayed around their wrestling bodies, coating her hands like an extra layer of ruby skin.
Blood that looked an awful lot like his own hands last night.
Five stopped fighting.
"Hit me," he whispered, blood streaming down his chin, copper against the back of his constricted throat. "Hit me, please. Tear me apart. Just kill me."
The woman faltered at that, eyes searching his face unreadably for a moment before her lips twitched into a sad smile. "Gladly."
Five shut his eyes, not wanting to see her grief stricken expression any longer than he had to, brimming with hatred. However, before the stranger could even begin to start her violent attack again, her weight abruptly disappeared from his abdomen. Five hesitantly raised his head, shocked with what met his eyes.
Further along the alleyway - half shrouded by shadow - a woman stood. Her long silver hair floated around her shoulders like a grey cloud, tattoos rippling as she grabbed Five's assailant and slammed her body against the brick wall.
"Shut the fuck up," the rescuer demanded, voice strained with anger. "End your sob story and face the facts. He didn't touch your girlfriend, he hasn't even fucking met her. If you want to kill anyone, go after the Handler. You don't know even half the shit this guy has been through, so unless you have a death wish, get lost!"
Slowly, the woman picked herself off the wall, tears streaming down her face. "Please," she groaned, clutching at Five's arm, uncaring of the blood that smeared across his skin. "Just tell me why you did it."
His rescuer's jaw tightened, eyes hardening almost imperceptibly. With a single sweep of her arm, she hauled Five to his feet before beginning to carry him, bridal style at that. Under any other circumstances, he would've been drowning in mortification, but now he could only gingerly hold on to her arms - they could almost rival Luther's - and let himself be carried away to a car positioned at the mouth of the alleyway.
Five couldn't help it, he chanced a glance back at his assailant, miserable and broken as she was. The way she stared at him - feral, pupils blown wide - terrified him a little, but he didn't back down and silently met her gaze.
"I just wanted roses," she whispered, voice somehow carrying across the increasing distance between them and breaking on the last syllable.
Five thought he was supposed to understand that, but he didn't, and so he said nothing.
---
It took Five a total of two seconds to realise that he was in Allison's car.
"Why the fuck are we in Allison's car?" he demanded, suspicion lacing his voice.
"Straight to the point, huh?" the silver haired woman drawled, finally beginning to drive. "No 'thank you for saving my life' either. Though I think you would've rather stayed back there and been beaten to a pulp."
Surprisingly, it wasn't anger or indignation that overcame him, but morbid curiosity. "You don't seem nearly as concerned as one should be when they find out they have a person in their midst whose lowkey—"
"Highkey—"
"—mentally fractured."
"When you put it like that, it sounds like a fake deep 2012 song."
The corners of Five's mouth quirked up at that. "What's your name? And why did you help me?"
"Solar. As for why I helped you: I know you can help me too. Fair is fair, right?"
"If you think I owe you anything simply because you saved my 'life' when I can already come back from the dead, you're mistaken," Five replied, forcing nonchalance.
"Good thing that's not what I think. You hand out your immortal information often?" Solar asked, a small smile dancing across her lips.
"No. But I recognise you - you were there at the fight with AJ. You helped kidnap Allison. Whose car we're currently in, might I remind you."
"Both of those statements are correct." Solar abruptly turned the wheel, cursing under her breath about the elderly as the car almost veered off course. "You want answers, kiddo? I can give you answers. And I can be your free transport to anywhere you want to go - even if that's back to your immortal squad, though I doubt that's a plausible situation."
"First, tell me who the fuck you are," Five ordered, suddenly grabbing the wheel and sloppily parking into a lay-by.
Solar shot him an unimpressed look. "No need to be so overdramatic man. You could've killed us."
"Correction, I could've killed you," he shot back smugly.
She rolled her eyes, flipping him off as she turned to face him in her seat. "I do owe you an explanation I guess. I used to work for the Commission - as you already know - and I helped abduct Allison. I didn't do any of these things by choice; my brother and my mother were on death's doorstep, and I needed money to pay for their treatment. Working for the Commission gives me a huge sum of it, no normal job could even begin to compare."
"Then why are you here?" Five asked, suspicion lacing his voice. "Unless you're still working for them..."
Solar raised her hands placatingly. "Relax. I have no need to stay at the Commission any longer. My family are dead."
What did one say in reply to such a heartbreaking thing? Five had never been good at comfort or support; people learnt how to mirror those notions after receiving them regularly, and he was certainly an exception. But with a statement such as this, it would be moronic to not even offer a condolence or two.
"I— I can't imagine how that must feel," Five began carefully, swallowing roughly and mentally cursing his social inabilities. "But I'm sure that they knew how much you loved them. I mean, you did go to such lengths to ensure their survival while it lasted, right? So I'm certain they passed away with that knowledge, at the very least. And— and they must've reciprocated your love too, how could they not when you did all that you could?"
"All that I could was still not enough. And they died because of me. The Commission...they killed them. It turns out they killed them months ago, and I never knew. I've been sending money to an empty home, writing emails that get responded to by my colleagues. Trust me, there's no one that I hate more than the Commission."
Five sighed, rubbing his temples tiredly. He was once again unsure of how to respond, so he settled upon a truth that he was certain Solar would relate to. "The Commission fucking suck."
She snorted, bobbing her head in agreement. "Indeed." A moment of comfortable silence passed between them before she continued. "After we brought Allison back to headquarters, I helped her. I know a scarce amount about what happened to her, but I have enough humanity to not share that without her consent. We bonded. We talked. We became...friends." She let loose a ragged breath, a haunted look overcoming her. "Allison promised me she wouldn't leave me. That if she ever escaped, she'd come back for me. But you know, she hasn't. She was never planning to, was she?"
Five knew exactly where this was heading, and he desperately tried to stammer a defense. "She never spoke about it to me, but that doesn't mean anythi—"
"Don't lie to me!" Solar roared, slamming her hand down on the wheel abruptly. The noise echoed tauntingly around the silence that permeated the car afterwards. "I've been tailing you guys for days. I know Allison was taking you back to the other immortals. I know she wasn't coming back for me. I know she forgot about me. Solar who's replaceable. Solar who doesn't mean a fucking thing to anyone. Solar who's always going to lose everyone she loves. Solar who's alone."
"Solar, please—"
She continued as if he hadn't spoken. "You know, Five, you're really fucking lucky. Really fucking lucky. You belong somewhere. You're part of a team. You're not expendable. You have a family. So don't you dare think for a second that I like you, or your little band of misfits either. If I had a gun and Allison was before me, I would fucking shoot her, but I know that it doesn't have anything on the pain she's given me. The pain that everyone always gives me. I also know that I can help you, and you can help me, so here's what's going to happen: you're going to let me drive you out of the city and we'll crash at a hotel. Then we'll talk out a plan, follow that damn plan, and go our separate ways. Or, you can get out of this car and crawl back to Allison. Your choice."
Solar leaned over the center console, a feral smile on her face. "Either way, at the end, you'll forget you ever saw me. It shouldn't be that hard. Allison did it just fine."
Five narrowed his eyes, about to snap back an impulsive response. Then he faltered. This situation somehow felt like a test, and he despised it.
Reginald's voice bounced around in his skull. Be collected and composed.
Five forced a smile, just as feral. "We'll see what your help is when we get to the hotel. And if you can't actually help me, even if you thought you could? Well, I will forget I ever saw you. And everyone else will too."
---
It was dark when Five cracked his eyes open, woken from his blissfully vacant dreams. The seat beneath him was hot and uncomfortable, digging into his thighs through his thin layer of clothing. That reminded him: he really had to change soon; his shirt and pants stuck to his skin, still icy cold and uncomfortably damp. The blood - Allison's blood, his mind supplied unhelpfully - that lined the hem of his shirt was abrading his skin, making the area itchy and distressed. Not to mention his own blood from the earlier fight that had dried in rivulets down his front.
Casting his gaze about the silent car, he tried to discern the reason for his rude awakening. Solar was still in her seat, head lolling against the tangled line of her seat belt, knuckles white as snow as they gripped the steering wheel in her sleep. She definitely hadn't made a noise; she slept like a rock, unnervingly silent and unmoving.
Though Five knew it was stupid, he still cautiously peaked in the back seats, blowing out a quiet breath of relief as he found them empty. What had he been expecting? A bloody ghost of a child hiding and waiting to maim him?
He was starting to come to terms with the fact that maybe he'd just woken up normally, and there was no ulterior reason. But no, he'd definitely heard something. That was when he suddenly obtained the sense to look out of the window.
Immediately, he flinched back.
Standing outside the car, face pressed to the glass, was a man wearing a mask. It covered his entire head, blue and yellow, twisted into an eerie smile. Compared to the rest of his outfit - a crisp, dark blue suit, sharp enough to cut - it was extremely jarring and out of place. Once he spotted the gun clutched in the man's gloved hand, he didn't think, just acted.
"Solar!" Five shouted, carelessly shaking her muscled shoulders. "Solar, wake up, now!"
Solar's eyes shot open, a look of alarm crossing her face as she just barely avoided punching Five in the face. "What the actual fuck?"
Her eyes suddenly lit upon the stranger outside the window, an expression of mingled terror and determination taking residence over her face. Tightening her grip on the steering wheel with one hand, she carelessly opened the glove compartment, thrusting a wickedly sharp knife into Five's arms.
"Stab him!" Solar ordered wildly, quickly starting the vehicle once again. "Do it!"
"I— I can't!" Five yelled back, but he clutched the knife with steady hands anyways, already knowing that he must.
There's no room for weakness Number Five! Weakness gets you killed. Weakness destroys you. Weakness makes you pathetic. No child of mine will be weak!
Before Solar could even begin her empty encouragements, Five rolled down the window and blindly stabbed. A crunch and a howl of pain was his only answer. He didn't wait for a rebuttal, already continuously pressing the close button for the window with desperate fingers. The glass painstakingly slowly inched upwards, not fast enough, not nearly fast enough.
The man was still keeping pace with the car, uncaring of the knife that now stuck out of his thigh or the rivulets of blood that soiled his pants. His face was contorted in barely contained pain, but otherwise he was surprisingly unbothered, albeit his movements were slightly more jerky than they were previously.
"We need to get a head start on him!" Solar frantically searched the area for a hiding place or quick exit, but both of them knew it was a hopeless cause.
"If you are ever trapped, fashion yourself a guise: the prey. At the last moment, prove your enemy wrong. Surprise is often a winning tactic and so is letting others believe you are weak, as long as you know that you are not, and will inevitably be the victor."
Reginald wasn't always wrong after all.
"Solar," Five quietly whispered, the contrast to his earlier tone immediately getting her attention. "Drive towards the bridge. I have a plan."
"There's a dead end there—"
"I know what I'm doing!" Five interrupted, unable to stop his desperation from leaking into his voice.
The sharp turn towards the bridge threw Five sideways, making him painfully bang his head against the side of the car. This allowed him a perfectly clear view of the man tailing them and the self satisfied expression he wore.
The cobbles of the bridge made for a jarring and disjointed passage, tossing Solar and Five every which way as they hung onto their seats for dear life. After what felt like minutes but was actually mere seconds, the car slowed to a stop, forced to halt as they met the wooden barrier that halved the bridge. To reach the other side, they'd need to deposit a few coins into the slot in the machine, but it was the middle of the night and the path had been closed.
"What do we do now?" Solar asked, voice breathless and tinged with worry. Five shared her concern, but in his heart of hearts, he knew he could do this.
A semicircular gap lived in the middle of the bridge. Ringing either side, long, spacious lines of asphalt stretched into the horizon, a direct road to the city hidden behind the barrier. The circle was completely devoid of stability; an open hole which showed the glittering sea down below, built for decoration. The barrier split around the gaping hole - the architects must've assumed that people would have enough common sense to not jump into the ocean. The only thing standing between open air and the bridge was a thin metal railing, curled to accommodate onlookers from every angle.
Five opened his mouth to reply, but before he could utter so much as word, Solar cut in furiously, obviously having followed his line of sight. "We are not diving to our deaths! You may be immortal, but I'm sure as fuck not."
"Calm down! I can catch us," Five soothed, sounding way more confident than he felt. He glanced out of the window once more, horrified to find that the masked man was only a few meters behind them. "Drive, it's now or never!"
For a horrible, horrible moment Five thought Solar wouldn't move at all, blinded by her fear.
Then she started the car once more, knuckles whitening like snow against the black leather of the wheel. The car zoomed across the short expanse of bridge that separated them from their escape route. Then, after a sharp inhalation of air from one of them - maybe both - the car smashed into the railing, effortlessly plowing over it and falling through the open circle.
A scream of exhilaration was torn from Five's throat, adrenaline making its frantic course through his veins as they fell and fell and fell. A funnel of merciless air caught the car, punching through the windows and smattering glass every which way. Glass stabbed his thighs and nicked his face, tearing open his skin in small showers of blood.
Five ignored the pain, the terrified screaming and the feeling of being weightless that held his world captive. He emptied his mind of any and every thought - a strenuous, unparalleled activity - and let the whole world melt away. Screwing his eyes shut, he was left alone with a ball of crackling blue some feet away, the only source of light, resembling a beacon, in the darkness that simmered behind his eyelids.
With steady, unfaltering steps, Five crossed the seemingly endless distance between the ethereal energy and himself. Then, without a single concern in the world, he wrapped his hands around it.
The warmth that flew through him was strong, tethering, so very strange. Five clung onto it like a lifeline, letting it sweep him away with its tendrils of unadulterated magic.
Letting it consume him.
The world blinked back into view suddenly. The trees were still whipping in a frantic frenzy, the water below them still a solid blue wall, hard as cement. Except it wasn't rushing up to meet them anymore. They weren't falling.
Solar looked at him as if he'd grown two heads. "I didn't think— how?"
Five opened his mouth to reply, only to be hit by a drowning wave of exhaustion. The car was fucking heavy and holding it mid air with the combined weight of two people didn't seem to be such a great idea. He just had to get them to a safe position so they could land and make a quick getaway. Sweeping the city with his eyes, he immediately pin pointed a perfect location.
The city was carved into a mountainside, houses and various apartment complexes precariously balanced upon the sheer, jutting shards of white rock. No wonder the ground had been so hard to walk upon; they must've slathered the rock face with cobbles and granite and called it a day. Someone could probably take a hammer to the parking lots and reveal pure mountain beneath. There was only one completely smooth spot in the area: a slope curved around the outer barriers of the city, steep but undisturbed by unstable rock.
"There!" Five shouted, pointing his finger at the location. Solar studied it silently for a moment before quickly nodding, giving her consent.
With a massive heave and a deep exhale, Five plunged back into that black void that was tattooed behind his eyelids. He wasted no time, fingers already locking around the sphere of light, channelling magic with stolen energy. He winced as several flares of light - lives, most likely - blinked out of sight, guilt overtaking the satisfaction and relief of gaining the energy from their life sources. They were just animals, but it didn't make a huge difference. Five forged ahead anyways, ignoring the shame burning hot and bright at the pit of his stomach, repeating the same mantra within his mind - whispered like a prayer.
You have no choice.
When reality trickled back in, it was still dark. Distantly, Five could hear someone groaning, could feel a wet liquid seep through the fabric that encased his leg as it soaked his shoe. But his face was on fire, there was glass in his shoe, and the passenger door was currently lodged in his side. He lay there for a moment, turned at an odd angle, head spinning and throat closed up as he tried desperately to draw breath into his lungs.
After what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, Five finally moved. His fingers reached blindly between his legs, finding his seatbelt and fumbling to unlock it. After a few arduous, unsuccessful attempts, his belt finally unlatched. With a surprised cry, Five pitched forwards, spilling out of his seat and landing on the carpeted floor of the car roughly. He groaned as he flipped himself over, ignoring the glass digging into his back and searching the ceiling for a moment or two.
The car was absolutely wrecked. The wheel was askew, jarringly out of position. All of the windows were smashed in, littering glass across every available surface. Judging by the throbbing in Five's nose, he could safely assume the airbags had kicked into motion and punched him in the face. What good that did, he couldn't say. Five finally concluded that the car must've crashed, that was the only explanation for the excessive damage.
Then a sudden thought occurred to him.
Solar.
Five searched the car with his eyes, but he couldn't discern anything useful in the dark. He straightened in his seat, carelessly ramming his shoulder into the door, over and over again, not sparing a thought for the countless bruises forming on his pale skin. He had to find her, he had to. If she was being truthful, she was his only chance for answers. He needed her just as much as she needed him.
Finally, the door gave away, swinging open and letting in blasts of cool air. Five sucked them in greedily, letting himself fall onto the cold snow. The ice was a small relief on the cuts and burns across his face and hands, but even now Five could feel his bones and muscles knitting back together. He would eventually be okay. Solar wouldn't if he didn't find her.
"Solar!" Five crawled across the snow, elbows digging into the thick substance. He edged around the side of the car, slowly, ever so slowly, reaching his destination: the driver's seat. A quick look inside confirmed his worst suspicions. She wasn't in the car, and probably hadn't been for a really long time. But he had heard her, groaning in the dark, obviously in pain. She had to be somewhere near, after all, how far could she have gotten in the first place?
That was when he spotted it. A dark shadow was cast over the side of the cliff that loomed over the bottom of the mountain. Five launched himself at the figure on the floor - half buried by rock - and almost gasped in relief when he saw it was Solar. Her silver hair pooled around her ashen face and a long, deep gash ran across her temple, leaking blood over her closed eyelid and down her sunken cheek. Her shirt was also drenched in the liquid, a dark red stain standing bold against the white of the mountain.
Before he could even begin to check if she was alive, a harsh pounding sound drowned out of the rest of the world, deafening and insistent. It was coming towards them. Five reckoned they had about three minutes before the sound found them, and who knew what was causing it? A stampede of Commission agents? A rebellious horde of wild animals? Some curious, loud citizens? Five really didn't want to stick around to find out.
He glanced down at Solar once more, weighing his options carefully. If he made a break for it, he could possibly get away in time. With the added weight of an extra, injured person, who may or may not be dead already, he'd be slowed down significantly. But he needed to know what she was bringing to the table, or else he might never emerge from the clueless darkness the other immortals liked to lock him in.
Besides, he didn't want to be like everyone else in her life, leaving her behind to fend for herself. If he ran now, she would never make it on her own. Even if she got off this mountainside - which seemed very implausible from where he was standing - the Commission would hunt her until her last breath. They had no mercy, no sympathy. As soon as she was dubbed a traitor, it had turned into a sick game of survival, where the odds would never be in her favour.
Five had made up his mind and there was no time to waste.
Quickly dropping to his knees, he wrapped his arms around Solar's shoulders. With great effort, he managed to sit her upright. The rough motion had displaced her jacket, and as Five hurried to straighten it again - it was way too cold to go without - something fell out of her pocket.
It was a bundle of letters which were compressed into a moderately small ball and littered with the occasional splotch of blood or dried ink. After a moment of hesitation, Five picked them up with numb fingertips and slipped them into his own pocket. He didn't know how, or even why, but he had an abrupt feeling that it had something to do with their agreement, and was therefore useful to him first and foremost. If it turned out to be shredded pages from her diary, he would just shamefully return them. Besides, he didn't know any adult over the age of twenty five who had a diary in the first place.
The fast approaching, overwhelming noise was what finally jolted him out of his stupor. The cacophony sounded like it was just around the corner, so he had to move now or never. Planting his hand in Solar's icy, loose grip, he tugged on his powers, frustratedly trying again and again when nothing happened. He would get them out of here, even if it was the last thing he did. Perhaps it was stupid to push himself so hard and so fast in such a short amount of time, but Five had always been known for his reckless and impulsive behaviour.
With one last heave of breath and energy, he tore open the fabric of time and space and fell through the shimmering doorway to the other side.
---
Luther's bedroom was a pale lavender, bordering on baby pink. His ceiling was splattered with vibrant constellations and detailed solar systems. Space was his favourite, a deep rooted love born from the countless days spent staring at the sky with cattle grazing beside his head and memoirs of his old life clutched between his calloused hands.
Over the years, as more ideas and hard facts about space emerged, he'd dedicated his life to becoming an astronaut. And maybe that could've been possible, but protecting what they already had on Earth was miles more important than reminiscing about something so delusional like living on the moon. He'd been gifted with an ability; it wasn't fair to abandon that for silly, childish dreams.
Still, he had never fully outgrown his fascination with space. It was so...different. He'd been of the opinion that nothing and nobody on Earth could compare.
Upon meeting the other immortals, he'd swiftly changed that belief.
His family - annoying and grouchy as they were - were the most important people in his life. The centre of his solar system. All his planets revolved around them. And Luther had sworn to keep them safe, no matter what happened.
He had miraculously - and rather spectacularly - failed.
Instead of throwing his life on the line and ruthlessly saving and defending Allison and Five, he had let himself be blown to bits. The others were in the living room, clearly distraught and being berated by Eudora, while Luther himself was hiding in his room, nervous and too ashamed to step out. It wasn't just the fear of their judgement and pity, it was also the fact that he'd caused them pain. It wouldn't have been easy to see him in such a ruined state, Luther was sure.
And of course, Allison and Five were still lost.
Perhaps all the hours of training and centuries of exhaustion and agony Luther had suffered through wasn't enough. Perhaps it was a foolish notion to dedicate yourself to saving the world; there wasn't actually a concrete case of evil tormenting the structure of the Earth, a single enemy that could be fought and defeated. What The Old Guard was tirelessly trying to do was purge the poison already embedded in the system. For this evil was humanity.
It wasn't fair to pin that observation on all humans; sometimes, rarely, a person came along and shined brighter than any star in the universe. Surprisingly, the first person Luther thought of when he dwelled upon that miracle was Five.
More often than not, Five liked to act like he was a monster, a human devoid of feeling. Someone that didn't know him well might've fallen for that act, but not Luther. After all, he had to don the same armour on the regular, killing and defending and terrifying and hurting, all the while acting like he was enjoying it. His siblings weren't cut throat villains, but they were all more partial to murder in the name of justice than he was. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he had a gentle soul and a soft heart. That he fruitlessly wished for clean hands and a light soul, only to be stricken with the same sadness he'd carried around for centuries.
Maybe that was why he empathised so much with Five. He saw through the boy's cold exterior, recognised the same twinned displeasure the other immortal felt at having a role forced upon him that he never asked for and certainly didn't want. Several times, Luther had hovered in front of Five's bedroom door, hand raised to knock, and then awkwardly shuffled away after a few beats of apprehensive silence. Ben had even caught him doing it once and the other man's pitying expression alone convinced Luther to give up at his feeble attempts to connect with his youngest brother.
Now that he was faced with the likely chance of never seeing Five again, he wished he hadn't.
Despite what the other boy did in order to maintain his cold image, Luther had seen first hand how good of a person he could be. How good of a person he was.
Whenever Diego's knives were rusty or dirty, the next morning they were miraculously good as new. One time, Diego had even lost several of his knives and Five had bought him new ones, despite the fact that it caused him to have a panic attack because of being in a store (something they all refrained from mentioning). Though Luther had never caught him in the act, he was fairly certain it was the youngest immortal. These strange occurrences had only started when Five arrived and only stopped now that he was gone.
When it came to Allison, Five was surprisingly caring. In the two exhausting weeks that Allison had been absent, he'd pursued her whereabouts with dogged determination, adamant on bringing her back home. He'd placed that as a priority, putting it above everything else. At the time, wrapped up in his own mini frenzy, Luther had spared no thoughts for it besides feeling grateful that Five was pulling his weight. Now he realised how absurd it really was.
Five and Klaus had an odd relationship; on the surface, Five seemed to 'hate' Klaus, and while Luther believed he was certainly annoyed by the other man, he didn't think for one second that Five didn't care about him. On more than one occasion, Luther had stumbled downstairs in the middle of the night, exhausted but unable to catch a drift of sleep, only to find Five hurrying into the house with sopping clothes and a wild eyed look on his face. At first, Luther hadn't understood, and he'd devoted many hours into figuring the situation out. Then it had suddenly made sense to him: whenever the chore list rotated to Klaus' turn, the grocery shopping always fell in the night. The very dark night that was constantly teeming with ghosts. Klaus was way too independent to have it changed, so of course Five had taken it upon himself to run out at two in the morning, in the pouring rain more often than not. Klaus was too observant to not have noticed, but he'd obviously never said anything, for the pattern had gone on undisturbed.
The gestures Five performed for Ben and Vanya were a lot more subtle than the ones he did for the others, though Five was probably of the opinion that he'd been subtle for all of them. Though a couple centuries had already passed, Luther knew first hand how intensely Vanya still suffered from the trauma of her past and the relentless silencing she'd received. Five - with an impressive lack of knowledge - had single handedly done what had taken decades for the rest of them to achieve.
He had gained Vanya's trust.
In only two weeks.
Luther would be lying if he said he wasn't a little jealous.
Then there was Ben. Well, technically, Five helped Eldritch, but by doing so he was inadvertently aiding Ben. Everyone knew that the Korean immortal found it hard to control Eldritch at times, and why wouldn't he? According to Five, Eldritch was actually a beast from another dimension that entered Earth through Ben's stomach, which served as a portal of sorts. Whenever Eldritch got antsy or acted up, Five was the first to be by Ben's side, constantly prepared to calm down the tentacled monster, even if Ben still wouldn't let him talk to it and rarely even let him see it. Five did what the rest of them couldn't bear to do.
He was kind to Eldritch. He didn't treat Eldritch like a monster. And though Luther had never thought he would compare himself to an octopus living in his brother's stomach, he found that more often than not, Five did the same thing for him.
After Luther's unfortunate...transformation, he had felt like a monster. His fingers were bulky and huge, making everything seem smaller than it already was. His chest and muscles were drowning in hair and bulging inhumanly; not in an attractive, healthy way, but in an oversized, bulbous manner. Luther was disgusting, and clumsy, and he never missed the looks sent his way, the double takes, the cautious shuffling in the other direction. The whispered words and mocking laughs and snarky comments and lengthy stares and hurtful names. They all slotted together like a fucked up puzzle, pieces so wickedly sharp and easy to cut yourself on.
His siblings had never done more than the occasional painful comment or insensitive joke, but they had known him before he'd been twisted into a shape that he wasn't, deposited into a body that was incapable of admiration, incapable of housing his differing soul. They looked at him and saw who he used to be; a man with tan skin and corded muscles. Someone who constantly had bright, sunny words on the tip of his tongue and laughed just like bells chimed. A person with sunshine blond hair and smiling eyes, crafting a perfect countenance and holding hearts within his back pocket. A human who obtained happiness, always loving - and being loved back - with carefree abandon.
But Five had never known that man.
Yet it had never mattered.
For when Five gazed at Luther, it was with absurdly trusting eyes and attentively concerned stares. When Five smiled at Luther, it wasn't faked, it was sincere and happy. When Five laughed at one of Luther's jokes, he wasn't laughing at him but laughing with him. He laughed with his whole body, as if there was nothing else he'd rather be doing. When Five hugged Luther, he didn't flinch or cringe, didn't draw away after a "suitable" amount of time. He never seemed bothered, even when his arms couldn't even begin to lock around Luther's shoulders. Not even when the others made fun of him for looking so small, and everyone knew Five hated looking small. Luther knew that in Five's eyes, he'd never look like a monster because he wasn't one.
One could argue that was the smallest modicum of decency, but there were many other small things that Five had done to prove his kindness. He always used his Earth powers to aid the growth and health of Luther's plants unprompted. He insistently made sure to bring Luther meals straight to his room when the older man was in a stormy mood, and unflinchingly knocked him down a peg or three when Luther was being an asshole. Five also defended Luther and told the others to shut up when they'd crack another joke about his physical condition, taking note of the fact that the blond didn't like it. That wasn't so surprising though; Five was always way too observant for his own good. It was absurd, really. How could someone be so young and yet so old?
He was only forced to be older than he was because of you.
Luther abruptly stood from his bed, hands balled into fists at his sides. That tiny, constant voice at the back of his head was really annoying, but it was also honest and completely right. Luther had failed Five. He had to make it right, even if he died trying. All this time, they'd been going about it the wrong way. Why should they waste time and have Allison and Five struggle back to them? Why didn't they find the pair first?
You're all cowards, that's why.
Maybe it was a cruel thing to think, but when had Luther ever been entirely kind? Kindness didn't fit quite right on his bones, in that way it was similar to his very own skin. However, a cruel coward was absolutely unacceptable, and Luther would rather shut that voice up than admit defeat. He would burn it out of existence with his own bravery, he vowed it.
Things were going to change.
It was time to find Five.
As soon as Luther opened his bedroom door, he immediately regretted it. On the other side stood Diego, clothes drenched in water as he showered little droplets of rain on the floor. The other man's hand was poised to knock but he instantly dropped it when he caught sight of Luther's face, caution overwhelming his previous concern.
"What are you doing?..."
Here was the hard part.
Did he tell his siblings or go alone?
As much as Luther wanted to confide in them, he was also aware of the fact that it would only slow him down, and they would baby him after his recent meeting with death.
But this was Diego. The same Diego that Luther had always clashed with, both of them obtaining fiery personalities that weren't compatible in any way, shape or form. The boy that had grown into a man that had grown - begrudgingly - into a family member, the annoying brother that always felt overlooked for some stupid reason, all teeth and claws, digging into any and every weakness in the wall, chink in the armour. No inhibitions, no shying away, all fury and impulse, jumping out like a brick wall that melted away to reveal an inferno hidden behind.
But he was also the same Diego that Luther had sparred with hours on end, the member that filled his shoes just right, always wading past every obstacle and making it look easy. Constantly the one to have your back, no response to his own injuries until you had assured him your health was fine first. He was a protector, a warrior, and a fighter, but he was also a brother, a lover and a friend. Diego wouldn't fret over him like a mother hen, but he'd care just enough for Luther to know that he'd worried in the first place. Absurd as it may seem, there was no one else Luther would've rather asked to tag along with him.
It all just depended upon whether Diego was willing to not tell anyone else.
Luther took a deep breath and braced for rejection and failure. "I'm going to rescue Five and Allison. I think we've wasted enough time. We can't just count on them finding their way to us; what if they're captured and they have no way to tell us? I'd rather be safe than sorry. I was hoping you'd come with me?" Luther asked tentatively.
Diego scrutinised him silently for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. "Just us?"
"Just us."
Diego nodded curtly, pocketing his car keys that rested on the wooden surface of the table closest to the doorway. "Cool. Just let me get my knives."
Luther merely grinned in response.