Promise [Number 5 X Reader]

- Prepare For Trouble -

The real MVPs are the ones who get the reference/joke of this chapter's title. (◠‿・)—☆

XxXxX

For whatever reason, you found the lively Celtic music playing in the bar to be quite relaxing when Five opened the door. Though, you had to admit the excessive amount of flags hanging around were pretty tacky. You didn't have much time to take in either aspect of the scenery, as your attention was quickly directed to an older man sitting by the bar.

"There I am," Five sighed, both you and Luther leaning around the brunette to get a better look.

"And there's the briefcase," you remarked. "Think we could rush him? It's not like you could take on all three of us - not in that physical state."

"Ouch," Five shot back sarcastically. "Besides, physically older or not, there's no way I'd let anyone take that case - no matter what." The brunette's head twitched beside you.

"You sure it's alright for you to even be here?" Luther asked, looking over him anxiously. "With the paradox and all that?"

"We just have to make sure to both get that case, and make sure I go back to 2019," Five explained. "That way, this version of me won't fizzle out of existence . . . "

"So what's the plan," you questioned flatly, " just waltz on over and strike up a conversation?"

Five made a face, "Actually, yes. That's our best option . . . I'm sure I'll be able to understand my own plight."

I'd hope so, you nearly thought aloud. His shoulder jittered within his jacket before his hand came up to scratch it. "Stage two, Five; how're you holding up?"

His bright green eyes bore into your (e/c) ones before darting back to the older - younger? - version of himself. "I'm fine . . . honestly." He almost stepped forward, but was held back by your hand on his chest.

"Hold up." Five's steps stuttered and he glanced at you curiously. "If you were to see yourself standing in front of you, you'd lose your shit, right?" He didn't respond, but seemed to understand anyway. "He won't recognize Luther either . . . let me go first . . . take the edge off, I guess."

Five's hand came up to grasp your wrist, giving it a momentary squeeze as he thought over your plan. " . . . I guess that could work . . . Just be careful, okay?"

Rolling your eyes, you waved him off, "When was the last time I - nevermind," you cut yourself off. "If you answered that, there'd be a very high chance of me physically injuring you." Shaking out your hands, you took a deep breath before stepping towards the bar.

Granted, you had never imagined what Five would look like as an older man - hell, you were thirty years old and you didn't have a clue as to what you should really look like - but you certainly had never imagined he'd look so . . . weathered. The grey-haired man in front of you seemed more devoid of life than the Five that had just squeezed your wrist. Although, you pondered if the Commission had done it to him, and the Five you had familiarized yourself with was a product of his reunification with you and the others.

Before you could say anything, Luther's shoulder loudly knocked into the support beam, catching the attention of the man you had been observing. Those same green eyes immediately found yours, and it was as if he had just seen a ghost.

In that moment you recalled he might as well have, seeing how, according to your Five, the last time he had seen you, it was in a collapsing building and you had been saying goodbye.

"(Y/n)?" The grey Five called. He blinked at you a few times, once darting down to see the little nose poking from the small opening of your pack. "How did - ?"