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I.
He'd been rubbing his eyes the whole way home, which Luther thought was adorable, but also maybe a bit concerning.
Because Five never allowed himself to show any type of weakness (never ever) (perhaps it has something to do with his commission times? it looked like the kind of place where you got killed for being weak, especially for a field agent), so he really had to be dying of sleep for him to rub his eyes so strongly.
Their car had flaked out on them, and they still had a good eight miles until they reached the town, which wasn't a short walk. At in this time of night, there were not many cars around to hitch hike and besides, Luther didn't fit in most of them.
But he didn't want his tiniest brother to keep rubbing his eyes so adorably, a mean assassin old man shouldn't be adorable, and should just die of sleep on the side of a road when it coud be prevented.
"I can carry you." Luther mentioned. "So you can sleep a bit?"
Five threw him a dirty look.
"Seriously, you weigh like a bunch of grapes of to me."
"I'm not going to... nap in your arms, Luther."
"Why not? You're tired, I don't mind, and it's not like there's anyone around to see it."
"Luther..."
"I would actually feel better. You're so sleepy, it's melting my heart."
Five rolled his eyes. Yes, this was a strategy that could work.
"I'm feeling heart shapes getting out my body and travelling to you."
"Luther."
"I want to wrap you in a blanket and give you a kiss on your precious forehead."
"Oh my god!"
"I want you sing you lullabies in a soft tone."
"Luther!"
"Hush little darling, don't say a word, Luther's gonna buy you..."
"If I say yes, will you stop talking?"
"Of course."
Five felt ridiculous, but allowed it. Bridal carry, which is the most comfortable to sleep, he'd said, and suddenly Five was lifted up... And it was impossible to stay awake. The soft sound of Luther's heartbeat, of the steps, the cool air around them.... He fell asleep almost immediately.
Dammit, this was even more adorable.
II.
Diego was not freaking out. At all.
Only he was.
They had gone "on patrol", around the streets of the city. Five sometimes came with him, even if really didn't want the world to think he'd allowed a teenager to be his partner (he wasn't, all right, he was a hardened killer, and the oldest and wisest of any of them). Still, Five had a very good mind for strategy, and he wasn't half bad on one-on-one combat.
For such a small guy, he sure packed a punch.
And they'd had a busy night, that Tuesday, they captured a would-be gang rapists (they'd beat them up a bit, there was eight of them for god's sakes, but it'd been worth it), got some civilians out of a gang fight and called the police on a huge arms dealing operation that was hapening near the port.
Diego felt so fucking good.
"Five, my man! That was some stellar wor you did there! We've saved so much people tonight, I feel like ten younger. I wish I could see 1960s dad again, to prove him wrong ,maybe show him my very heroic middle finger."
But Five was quiet. Five was quiet, and oddly pale and he was holding his stomach.
"...You feeling alright?"
Five was not feeling all right. He felt like a wave of white hot pain was moving inside of him, eating him up, twisting his insides and then setting them on fire.
"I'm fine."
He was not fine.
He was in excuciating pain.
Why couldn't he fucking say it?
Diego didn't know what to think. Maybe he just looked paler under these harsh streetlights? Maybe he simply had the wind knocked out in one of the fights?
But no. It wasn't that easy.
"Wait..."
Five needed to stop.
The world around him was blurring, being taken over by the pain.
He sank to his knees and doubled over.
Vomited blood, in big, painful heaves.
And then his eyes rolled to back of his head.
Oh, no. oh no no no no.
What was he supposed to do? He couldn't just call an ambulance, then they would take him to a hospital, and a kid with bruises all over him? They would take him inot state custody, maybe call child protective services on them, maybe try and have some other nicer foster family get custody of him.
It would be a whole damn mess.
And Diego was afraid that moving would make things worse, but what was he supposed to do.
"Five?" he tapped his cheek, but nothing "Five, come on, don't do this to me."
He was so... so good at patrol, so mature in everything he said, could had such an old man view of things that sometimes you just forgot that he was actually living in the body of a kid. But the body of a kid bruised easily, was more fragile.
And now....
Now Five really looked a kid, sprawled out on the floor, eyes closed, blood on his mouth.
There was some sort of weird bruise, like a stain, in Five's stomach. Internal bleeding. Internal bleeding, internal bleeding...
"No, no, no, no...."
Diego was broken record that felt lost and was downright frightened.
Mom. Mom would know what to do, mom would be able to fix him, mom would help.
So he just picked him up, with as much gentleness and care as possible. Hell, maybe this was the time in his life in which he'd been the most gentle. Definitely the time he'd been most gentle with Five.
He put him over his shoulder and just sprinted. He so needed to get Five and good set of body armour, of knives, of... more of a sense of self-preservation.
He ran.
Grace was indeed able to patch Five up, and relieved, Diego just stayed on his bedside, looking up some stuff, until he fell asleep on the chair.
The laptop he'd had with him was left on the bed, next to Five.
Curious, he looked up the last search, and couldn't help smiling.
Prices of kevlar for kids.
III.
They were eight, and Klaus found Five someplce behing his dreaded mausoleum, sitting on the floor, holding his ankle. And was he... could he be crying? But Five didn't cry. He was toughest of them all.
"Five? What happened?"
"I landed bad. It was my fault for going too fast."
Yeah, the ankle was red and swollen - it looked bad.
"I'm sure mom will make it feel better, don't worry."
"Is not that." Five wouldn't cry just over some pain. He could deal with that, he wasn't a baby.
"I yelled at dad yesterday, and I won't be able to train for a while and he's going to be so bad, and he's going to punsih me and...."
Klaus did what he did best and hugged his brother. Dad's punishments were horrible, and he was always a bit extra harsh on Five for being so mouth, for being arrogant, "for his own good".
"I wish I had the ability to heal people instead of my useless one and that way dad wouldn't have to find out."
Five looked up at Klaus.
"That... would be nice."
"I can say that I pushed you." Klaus realised. "That way is my fault too and maybe dad won't be so mad, won't punish you that much."
"I can't let you do that, Klaus." (even when they were kids, Five spoke like an adult. Solemn) "just help me to my mom, ok? I can't jump like this."
Klaus helped his brother and carried most of his weight back to the house. Five... wasn't very heavy, didn't complain much. If it had been him he would have been moaning and complaining the whole way.
But not Five.
He was just sad that dad would punish him.
They were in luck though.
Dad was in some secret meeting in another city and by the time he came back Five's ankle was mostly healed.
Still, the next week Klaus got a little page with the answers of all their math and history work for the week, and a little signature:
"Thanks for almost taking the blame for me,
Five "
IV.
Technically, Allison knew that America was the country with most shootings in the world.
But you never think it will happen to you, right?
She went to pick up Claire, and Five came with her, under the pretense of getting some coffee, and some more notebooks and chalk for his equations.
He was going there to see Claire, too, Allison knew. Since she'd called him her favourite uncle Five had been coming more and more with her, making more time for his niece. He helped her with homework, they watched movies... She even caught them colouring once. Allison had to keep the secret that Five coloured, or else there would be penalty of death.
There had been no warning. The coked up father of a boy that hadn't got in the school got in a fight with a teacher, then went to his car and return with a gun, and shot everything and everyone in his way, just as the kids were coming out the door, and the parents were there to greet them.
A total of sixteen rounds. He got to five kids. Three parents. And...
Allison Five and Claire when down to the floor, sat there with hands on their heads, eyes closed (Five would have jumped them inside the school, but he was recovering from a flu and hadn't had the energy to blink in a while). When the noise let up, Allison, looked around her, and... Claire was okay. For the love of god, she was okay, frightened but okay, saved by a human shield in the form of favourite uncle.
She embraced her daughter, asking if she was okay, frantically, and her daughter nodded. She hugged her again.
"Five, thank you so much, I..."
But Five's eyes were opening and closing without coordination, and there was... a red stain on his sweater vest just under his ribs. And another on his leg. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
"Five...." she breathed, not wanting to see this.
The ambulances would still take a while, and probably start with the kids...
"Julie! Julie are you okay?"
Julie had been her best "mom" friend. She trusted her and her daughters (one was Claire's age, the other was eleven, they were good people).
"I need you to watch Claire, for a little bit, yeah? My brother's been shot protecting her, he's not going to make it if I wait for the ambulances, I need to run."
"Oh my god, not the smart kid! You go, Allison!"
And so Allison picked Five up from the floor, who was now only half conscious, and tried not to think about the little moans and pained sounds that were coming out of him, about all the blood, about the fact that he was so damned light for a boy his age (or in a body of that age)...
"Why did you have to be like this, huh, Five?" Allison was crying, she was crying a lot as she ran. Having a wall of bricks fall on him to save his brother, getting shot to protect his niece. Unfair.
"You're not allowed to die, you hear me? Claire would be shattered, and so would I."
Five's head lolled from side to side, his eyes opening and closing, more blood coming out of his wound.
"You have to hold on, Five, we still need you."
That was what had kept him going before, right? That they needed him to stop apocalypses, or figure out enemies...
"
"We need you."
And then, finally, after the cop and the screams... A car. With a driver
"I heard a rumour that you gave me your car."
Allison placed Five on the back seats and drove like a bat out of hell. Was screaming for help in the entrance of the hospital in a mere three and twelve seconds, breaking every traffic law she knew.
Soon Five was taken in, and taken to surgery. Fixed.
And maybe Claire filled his hospital room with "uncle Five is my hero" drawings, and pasta necklaces, and everything she could think of.
But that is a story for another time.
V.
Vanya had been practising how to control and redirect her powers with Five, almost all night. No, scratch that, all night and a bit of the morning, since the sun was out already. He was the target sometimes, and Vanya was supposed to redirect his energy in time not to get him.
Exploding fruits and other small objects was nice, but she wanted to make sure she wouldn't hurt anyone, ever again. Five had offered his help. He was always so nice to her, she felt bad for nearly choking him with energy tentacles, and then blowing him off a bunch of times and nearly fighting with him in the 60s.
And now... She wasn't realising it, but she was hurting him again.
Lost in her powers, and in getting better and better soon, she hadn't seen... Hadn't felt...
Then Five went to get himself another cup of coffee and said
"Hey Vanya..." and couldn't finish his sentence.
He fell on a dead faint on the floor, knees buckling, head hitting the wooden floor.
Shit.
Had any of the beams actually hit him? Had she just exhausted him with all the hours of power practise? This was wrong, so wrong. Had she even offered to get them dinner?
She managed to get him up from the floor, and into the couch. Cleaned the small wound in his forehead.
Sighed.
She had to make it up to him, she so did. Five was aways there for her, smiled at her, appreciated her. And hell, Vanya loved him a lot too.
When he opened his eyes the table in fron of him was full of food, fancy and some old fashiony video tapes of movies.
"I got each and every time travel movie so you can tell me exactly how very wrong they are and we can laugh at them. You in?"
Oh, Five was very in.
He was also incredibly happy to have a faily that would pick him up every time he fell.