definitely maybe i will live to love || Five x Reader/OC ||

the danger is i'm dangerous

Kill of the Night

It takes a month of searching, but Five finds your home and living magazine underneath three feet of broken concrete. He carefully pulls it out, dusts it off, and grins. It's yours. He can tell because of the dog-eared pages that take him to photos of a mid-century modern with those high windows and angular architecture.

He also picks up an origami frog with dust in its paper crevices. It still bounces.

Five looks through the magazine every night, like it has the power to take him home. He thinks of you, of Vanya, of all the dreams you had of moving into your own home together, dancing and eating donuts and playing violin by the windows. Sun would soak the wooden floor your feet swayed upon. Your toes would curl against his thigh while he read to you, and he wouldn't ever get mad again.

When the magazine starts falling apart, Five carefully removes your dog-eared selection and folds them, keeps them close to his chest. They stay there for years, folded and refolded, faded by time. Then, one night, he gets drunk, and when he pulls the pages out to tearfully talk about the dreams he'll never see with Delores, he passes out before he remembers to put them back.

When the morning comes, the wind has blown away the mid-century modern. Five screams all day until his throat is raw. He never recovers them.

The origami frog maintains its bounce. Not wanting to make the mistake like he did with the magazine, Five keeps the frog carefully pressed in a pocket but only takes it out when he dares, when he feels like reality slips further and further away from him. Then the frog jumps underneath the touch of his finger, and he can breathe again.

On a hit job in Paraguay for the Commission, Five gets shot. It's not serious, but that's not why he panics. He ducks for cover, and as he does, he reaches into his pocket to pull out the origami frog to make sure it's okay, it's unhurt, it's fine, and if it's fine, then he's fine, he's fine.

All he grasps from the pocket are blood-soaked fragments of paper.

The mission became one of his most violent to date.

Of course, Five was willing to amend that record upon seeing the front door of the academy house ajar, the lock missing.

His knuckles whiten as they clench together. The world becomes calm, concentrated. Five prepares himself to kill. Disconnected. "Vanya, stay here—"

You slip past the door and wave to them. "It's okay, it's okay," you say. One of your sweater sleeves is gone completely, and you have signature skid marks on your forehead from bashing against something—or into.

"What the hell happened?" Five rapidly questions. You pull Vanya into a tight hug. She hugs you back.

"Hazel and Cha-Cha found us."

"The assassins?" asks Vanya. Five swears. You let go of her and nod.

"Yeah. I don't think they expected all of us to be there, but they were looking for you, Five." You lightly flick his nose. He swats your hand away with a scowl. "They shot Patch, but it wasn't too serious. Pogo is looking after her now. They..."

You swallow the pain. Vanya catches the bob in your throat, the pause. Her stomach twists.

"They took Klaus."

Through clenched teeth, Five hisses out, "What?"

"I couldn't find him anywhere in the house. The water he took a bath in had just been drained, so, so he must have gotten out and then snatched up."