you were everything

Five Starts A Staring Contest He Can't Win

☂ dance like no one's watching ☂ 

The song sweeps through the Umbrella Academy's lonely halls like an overwhelming wave. Barriers down.  I've never much liked dancing, nor have I been able to comprehend its significance. 

A head sway cannot communicate anything truly meaningful. Hips can, in fact, lie. 

I am sitting in Five's bedroom, because the he is the only one, except Ben, that cannot storm in and accuse me of murdering Reginald. I wish I had killed that sick bastard before he killed himself. I wish. 

A loud thundering sound comes from outside. The lights flicker, pulsating with warm blue energy. It feels like my own powers, swinging through the air. 

"What the hell was that?" 

Moving swiftly down the stairs, I catch up with Diego and Luther as they make their way towards the light show. 

An eerie blue orb hangs in the sky, pulsing and flickering like lighting. The colour of my hands when my power becomes activated. 

"What is it?" Vanya yells over the noise. 

"Don't get too close," says Allison. 

"Yeah, no shit!" Diego snarks. The thunder increases in volume, spraying winds at hurricane speeds towards us. Everyone shelters their faces from the gusts. 

"Looks like some kind of temporal anomaly," Luther says. "Either that, or a black hole." 

"That's a pretty big difference Paul Bunyon!" shouts Diego. 

Out the door sprints Klaus, brandishing a fire extinguisher. "Out of the way!" He tosses the red object into the hole and we watch as it is swallowed up in a sea of light. 

"What's that gonna do?" says Allison, heavily sarcastic. 

"I don't know," Klaus says. "Do you have a better idea?" 

"Get behind me!" commands Luther, shielding everyone with his hulking body. 

"Yeah, get behind us!" 

As the blue energy ripples, I am able to discern a face, almost like a torn reflection, beginning to appear in the centre. The energy crackles, as the elderly shape tears through the hole of time and space. 

No one says a word as the figure -- now teenaged and scrawny -- falls through, crashing to the ground with an immense thud. No sooner than his body scrapes the earth does the blue orb evaporate. 

Nonchalantly, the boy brushes dirt off his now enormous suit, before locking eyes with me. His green eyes latch onto my face, staring with an intensity that I do not quite understand. 

"Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?" Klaus says. 

It's the face from the portrait. I should have known, should have recognized the violent angles of his face, the jet black streaks of his hair. I am seeing him now. Number Five in all his puny glory, standing with a perpetually furrowed brow, glaring with slightly reddened lips -- in my direction. 

As if he suddenly became aware of himself, Five looked down at his body. 

"Shit." 

___

"What's the date?" Five's voice cuts through the quiet like a blade, his footfalls light as he paces the kitchen, gaze flicking from face to face. "The exact date."

"March twenty-fourth," I say. 

He gives a jilted head nod, away from my direction. 

It's strange to see how easily I have memorized his features, first from the painting, now the live version, standing in front of me. Since our brief stint of eye-contact, Five is making a point to avoid my gaze. 

This, I do not understand. 

The room is still for a beat. The others regard him with expressions teetering between wariness and muted shock—not quite the strangest thing that's happened in this house, but certainly unsettling.

His eyes snap to mine, sharp and calculating, his brow creasing ever so slightly. A flicker of something unreadable passes over his face, there one moment and gone the next. Five looks away from me. 

"That's good."

That's good?

Luther, ever the one to break silences, shifts on his feet, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?" His voice carries a note of incredulity. "It's been seventeen years."

Five exhales through his nose, unimpressed. "It's been a lot longer than that."

Without missing a beat, he sets two slices of bread onto the table, then—just as effortlessly—vanishes, reappearing by the cupboard in the blink of an eye.

Luther lets out a grunt. "Yeah, I haven't missed that."

Diego, leaning against the counter with arms folded, eyes Five with suspicion. "Where'd you go?"

Five doesn't even glance at him as he answers, "The future." He pauses just long enough to grab a coffee mug. "It's shit, by the way."

Klaus lets out a triumphant whoop, slapping his palm against the table. "Called it!"

I can only stare. The future? Such a delicate thing, a premise that is neither here nor there. 

Five, unbothered, continues. "You know, I should've listened to the old man. Jumping through space is one thing—jumping through time is a toss of the dice." He lifts his chin in Klaus's direction. "Nice dress."

Klaus sweeps a hand down his torso with a smug grin. "Well, danke!"

"How did you get back?" I say, addressing Five. 

There's the slightest hesitation before he answers. "In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time."

A heavy silence settles over the room.

"I see." I cross my arms. 

Diego scoffs. "That makes no sense."

Five gives him a look as if he's an insect under a microscope. "It would if you were smarter."

Diego's jaw tightens, a low growl of irritation rumbling in his throat.

Alison, watching with a mix of amusement and exasperation, interjects. "So what, you're fifty-eight?"

Five nods. "My mind is. Apparently, my body is sixteen again."

Alison frowns. "How does that even work?"

Five's expression darkens. "She said the equations were off, but..." He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter."

Klaus straightens up, interest piqued. "She?" His grin widens. "Who's she?"

Five pointedly ignores him, plucking the newspaper from the table instead. He scans the front page, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Guess I missed the funeral."

Luther stiffens. "How did you know about that?"

Five barely looks up. "What part of 'the future' do you not understand?" His eyes flit back to the paper. "Heart failure, huh?"

"Yes," I say.

"No," Luther counters at the same time.

Five clicks his tongue. "Nice to see nothing's changed."

I tilt my head, studying him. "You're not going to ask who I am?"

Five lifts his gaze, leveling me with an unshaken stare. "I know who you are."