you were everything

Klaus Goes Back into the Closet

☂ I don't care ☂ 

PRESENT TIME

Y/n's POV

Five's story has gaps.

But I am too shocked to bring them to his attention. I contemplate my own death strangely peacefully. 

What is death? What is dying? How can I say I fear dying when my time on this planet has been so short-lived and insignificant? 

"That happened." It is not a question, and my tone falls awful and flat. 

"That happened," Five says, confirming my statement. He shuffles his hands in his pockets, eerily mimicking the behaviour of a real teenage boy. 

"I sacrificed myself." 

Five's expression is dry and humourless. "Y/N, the martyr. Leave it to you to die for the greater good." 

"Okay, Grindewald." 

Five becomes distracted by a car driving by. His eyes drift away from me, appearing misty and distant. This revelation seems to have aged him several years -- so maybe he too has one foot in the grave. 

"And what about us?" I can't stop myself from asking. Five and I were alone for all those years. We must have at least developed a friendship. 

Five snaps his head around. "What do you mean us?" 

I feel as though I'm missing something. "Well, how was it that we didn't end up killing each other? Seeing as you hate me so much." 

"I've already told you -- I don't hate you," Five says, quiet and low. "I would appreciate it if you would change the subject." 

"Oh, so you don't want to talk about my death for the rest of the day?" 

"Plainly not," Five says, his eyes glinting. "I have somewhere to be. Are you coming, or not?" 

Though the news of my impending doom comes as a shock, I can't help but push it into the margins of my brain as we approach a large building. 

It looms overhead, brushing the tip of a cloud with its large, silvery, overbearingness. 

"Meritech Prosthetics," I say. "Let me guess, this has something to do with the eye?" 

"Bingo," Five says, pulling it out of his pocket and turning it over in his slim fingers. "This is where it was manufactured." 

If I were a betting person, which I am not, I could guess that Five is going to march into the building and demand someone give him answers. 

Five marches towards the stairs. He yanks the door open, pausing briefly to let me go first. I suppose chivalry isn't dead after all. 

"Hello, how may I help you?" Lance Biggs says, his imperious gaze slightly demeaning, leaning towards the dimwitted side. 

"Well, I found this eye and I would like to see it returned to its rightful owner," Five says, holding the eye outstretched. He snaps it back when Lance steps closer. 

"What a thoughtful young man!" The pantsuit clad woman says, chipper and eavesdropping. 

Five clenches his jaw. "Yeah. Can you tell me who it belongs to?" 

Lance shifts uncomfortably. "Unfortunately, due to privacy policy, we cannot disclose the name of the client." 

"It's confidential," I supply. 

"Confidential means--" 

Five looks about ready to burn. "We know what confidential means." 

"Where did you find the eye?" Lance asks.