VIOLENT MEANS// five hargreeves

12. I'm going with you.

12. I'm going with you.

"You know I never enjoyed it."

The words Five says snaps me out of the temporary daze I was in, my hands running over the pale leather back seats. I lick my lips, looking at the back of the two men in the front seat, wondering if I should bud in on their conversation.

Five's sentence makes no sense for the man I had learned about. He always had a heavy mindset, the way he did his killings was rushed and rageful, like he had more to say beyond what he did.

It was like he enjoyed it, though he didn't necessarily take his time, he always came back with blood on his face with a smile.

Pictures around the commission prove that.

"What?" Luther looks at him, the silence in the car before this moment confusing him. He had no idea what he was talking about.

"The killing." Five looks at Luther in shame. "I mean, I was— I was good at my work, and I took pride in it. But it never gave me pleasure."

I lean forward, elbows on my knees, head in my hands. I'm also good at my work, but I wouldn't know if I actually like it. It's the only thing I've known this far in my life. Hobbies weren't an option, training wasn't an option, and neither were the people I call my parents.

My head has knowledge of killing, knowing how to fight, and knowing where those types of important points in the human body are located in order to kill a person.

Five cuts my thoughts off. "I think it was all those years alone. Solitude can do funny things to the mind."

Luther looks forward blankly. "Yeah, well, you were gone for such a long time. I only spent four years on the moon, but that was more than enough." He looks in his lap, fidgeting with his fingers. "It's the being alone that breaks you."

They sit in silence for a fleeting second, Five looks at Luther thankfully, and I can't tell if it's because he understands him on a level no one else understands or if it had something to do with the sudden heart to heart no one had seemed to given him since he had gotten back.

Luther looks away from the void in front of him, glancing at the false briefcase that sat still beside them.

"You think they'll buy it?" Luther asks, inspecting the case.

Five sucks in a deep breath, organizing his thoughts. "Well, what I do know is that they're desperate. It's like a cop losing his gun. If the commission finds out, they'll be in deep shit." He looks both of us in the eyes, trying to make sure we absorb the information. "Oh, not to mention they'll be stuck here until they get it back."

Luther glances at him, thinking for a moment before speaking. "Well, I should hold onto it."

"Hm?" Five hums, eyebrows furrowing, almost like he's asking, 'what for?'.

"In case they make a move on you." Luther provides, trying to protect the man beside him.

"Okay, Luther, but be careful." Five says, eyebrows raising like he was threatening a child with no ice cream. "I mean, I've- I've lived a long life but... you're still a young man. You got your whole life ahead of you."

I roll my lips together, looking down at the ground, trying not to laugh at the irony.

It's like this man forgets he's trapped in a young body every moment he's in it, his demeanor changes depending on who he's talking to and what he's talking about. When he was talking to that man in the diner for example, his words were completely different compared to someone who sees him as a child.