You were a Commission daydream. You were hard as steel. Took orders without a second thought. No one ever broke through that stony exterior of yours, something the two of you had in common. But that didn’t stop the stories from getting around. That day you showed up scarred and cold, you had been running from something. Abusive family, violent parents, constantly cracked up or hungover. No food on the table, barely a warm sheet to cover you at night. You had been in and out of depression. In and out of your mind. 

Then one night, things changed. 

The night you decided you were no longer a danger to yourself or others. 

You made up your mind that night, the night your parents didn’t show. You laced up your shoes, yelled down the hall of your crumbling apartment building. Nobody answered. So you walked outside without an excuse to stay. That night, as you stumbled through city streets, starving, thirsty, bruised, defeated… the Commission saved you. 

You were everything they could’ve wanted. A clean shot of an assassin, a hardened soldier loyal to its infantry. You spoke little. Friends were out of the picture. Another thing, you and him had in common. But one thing was never doubted , that you could do anything you wanted to. One of the highest kill counts, most assignments completed, employee of the year. 

A Commission daydream. 

Your story was infamous. It was one Five Hargreeves resonated with, admired. After all, his family had never been the definition of functional but at least he had had people to call home. Your story ran through his head as he stood outside the Handler’s office listening to your voice, quiet but firm. Your voice never raised and he wondered how you did it. He was indulgent to his anger. It was the driving force behind every kill, every shot. But even as you argued, the Handler’s voice becoming increasingly frustrated, yours never raised, not a decibel. 

The result of the argument over this particular assignment had ended in your favor. Not a shock, you could do whatever you wanted to do. A high-end assignment could easily be won in your favor. What was a shock was you approaching Five, paper in hand. 

“Boss says I’ve got to have a partner for this one.” you state blankly, sliding the paper across the lunch table to him. “How about it, Hargreeves?” 

He blinked, reading the paper, glancing up at you. Another thing Five knew about you, you could go home. The Commission had signed off on it, the works and all. But no, you stayed. Dedicated as ever before. The thought ran through his head, your eyes glared into his. You could go home, but you weren’t going to. 

He didn’t know what prompted him to state a firm, “Sure”. Maybe it was the cold, blank stare in your eyes. Maybe it was the quite beautiful, stoic impression you had. Like the marble of a Greek statue, depicting some tragic tall tale. But whatever it was, it earned him a delicate smile. “Thanks.” you replied, leaving him wondering what on Earth he had gotten himself into. 

—— 

Traveling with you, he learned you weren’t all you were made out to be. 

Sure, the quiet, cold exterior was still there. But upon first glance, he noticed the slight care you put into things. The way you packed two mugs of coffee as opposed to just one. Not a word said but the action said enough. The way you meticulously packed each and every item you brought, making sure to extend the same courtesy to his belongings. 

Small things really, but it said enough. 

So you picked a direction, foot pressing down on the gas pedal of the 1977 Ford F-150 you had chosen out of a random parking lot. You were going 90 in Memphis, turning up the music. An old Van Morrison song, he could recognize the voice. It reminded him of his sister. 

“Why so loud?” he ventured to ask. 

Your eyes never left the road. “So thoughts don’t intrude.” 

He blinked, not sure of what to say. You raised the coffee mug to your lips and he was once again reminded of the one you had brought for him. It raised a curious thought in his head. “Not an easy thing to just not think.” he remarked. 

You glanced at him, almost as though you were taking him in. “I’ve managed.” you said plainly. A moment of silence went by. “Although, I will say Hargreeves you’re making it quite difficult to not think of anything with all your yapping.” 

He chuckled, eyes peeled towards the rising sun. “Well what are you thinking about now that I’ve disturbed your peace of mind.” 

Your lips turned up slightly, almost sadly although it was a smile. “Predictably, I wound up thinking of Elvis.” you chuckle softly. It was the first time he had heard you laugh. It was a nice sound, comforting almost. Somehow reminded him of home. 

“Why Elvis?” he asked, a slight smile coming to his face. 

You took one hand off the wheel, shrugging. “Mom always had it on the few times she was around.” you remarked. He noticed the way your lips curved as you spoke. The one small notation of emotion in your face, the one thing that gave you away. “Plus I wonder if he believes songs could come true.” 

Five’s brows furrow. Your hand drums on the middle compartment of the truck. “Well, he spouts all this bullshit about love. Shit, he made a career off of it. But does the man actually believe in it? Love?” 

“I don’t know.” he commented. “I mean I don’t think you have to believe in something to sing about it. There are thousands of others who wrote about it so I’m sure he had plenty of background to work with.” 

You scoffed. “Well, then that would be plenty sad. I’m usually a cynic but I’d like to believe the man who wrote some of the most notable love songs the world’s known to have believed in it himself.” 

“We’re in a world full of copycats and unoriginal imbeciles. The chances that Elvis believed in love songs is slim.” 

At that you gave a laugh, a full bellied laugh. He looked up quizzically. Your face scrunched up as you did. The marble statue seemed to have melted into a beautiful glaze of colors. Five delighted in it. The fact that he had made your statue slightly crack and crumble. You had done the same to him, if he were being honest. 

“And I thought I was the cynic.” you smirked, cheeks lifting ever so slightly. You sigh, looking at the sunrise with a sense of warmth. A nostalgic pull in your eyes. “All I’m saying is I’m asking for it if they do. Those love songs, I mean.” 

Five nodded briefly, his eyes also glancing out at the sun. 

“Have you ever loved someone like that?” 

“No… have you?” 

“No.” 

The silence lay steady as you went ninety in Memphis. 

—— 

The two of you stopped at a 7-Eleven, dead of night. The bright fluorescent lights blinked as you walked through, taking a grab at the edible things that stuck out to you. When the two of you arrived at the register, your hand moved to your pocket. A ten and a five folded up nicely. There you were again, doing the thing he got such a mental kick out of. He had come prepared but it hadn’t even occurred to you to ask him for money. 

You handed the cash to the man at the register, the same stony expression on your face. 

A beautiful thin line. 

There you were, paying for his things. If it were anyone else, he would’ve rejected this action. He would’ve seen it as a one up, a power dynamic, a petty maneuver. But with you, he realized it seemed to be your nature. There was a gentle nurturing you hid beneath your surface. 

Five desperately wanted to know more. 

You sat at a shitty table, wobbly with faded seats. You bit into a burger, silence hanging in the air almost peacefully as it always seemed to do with you. He looked down at his coffee and bagel. “Why’d you take this?” he asked quietly. “I mean… this assignment.” 

You blinked, eyes vacant and blank. It was as though you were conjuring an answer to that yourself. As if, you still didn’t know the answer to it yourself. He was slowly beginning to realize that maybe you didn’t know what you wanted. 

Your composure slacked, putting down your burger. “Better than nothing.” you responded, taking a sip of coffee. “This is my job. Might as well take the interesting ones.” 

The lights seemed to blink with the slow pace of his heart. He took a bite of his bagel. “What are you going to do… after this is all over?” 

You frown, as though the next thing that you were going to say would make you sad. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

He took a quiet sip of his coffee. “Me neither.” 

The silence lay peacefully thick once more. 

You were a rebel without a clue.

——- 

Traveling with you only made Five more enamored with your presence. 

You were gentle. Quite the opposite of him, actually. Sure, both of you were statues, cracked and slightly damaged, depicting a long life of sorrow. But you had a gentle warmth beneath the surface which Five rejoiced in. 

The truck was filled with music as you went along. Sometimes you talked, other times you didn’t. You were there though. Present, in the moment. You pulled him back to Earth when his head seemed to wander off. You were deep, intellectual, interesting. 

All the little things you did only made him admire you more. The way you quietly filled the gas tank. The way you flipped the pages of your book when he drove. The cadence of your voice, the vocabulary you used. The sad peaceful look on your face after a clean shot, the way your finger rested on the trigger. 

A peaceful kind of falling. 

One night, the two of you stopped at a motel. The night was dark, the stars shining brightly over an Alabama sky. Two beds, a small television that played old reruns of fifties sitcoms. “This is oddly nostalgic.” you commented. “Reminds me of home.” 

It was one of the rare times you talked of home. He smiled softly. “Reminds me of home too… Maybe we can make the most of it.” 

That night, you spent what was left of your serotonin. The motel door lay wide open, the laugh track on the television muffled as you sat on the second floor balcony. Both your backs lay stiff against the brick wall. 

Five looked over at you, and you were gorgeous. 

You chewed on your cheek and stared at the moon. “Hargreeves, I’ve got a confession.” 

He blinked, looking over at you. The moonlight seemed to illuminate your graceful features. “What’s that?’ 

“I know I lived through it, all that pain… I lived through it to get to this moment.”

“This mission?” 

You nodded. “With you.” 

Five paused, his breath seemed to hitch in his throat. You glanced over at him. “I’ve got to say… I kinda like you, Hargreeves.” 

He didn’t know words could mean so much. They were simple, short, barely a sentence. But you had said them and he knew from even the brief conversations with you, that you said what you meant. His lips upturned slightly, not enough to give him away. “I kinda like you too.” 

Silence ensued. Five had a handful of grapes in his hand. You ate a sleeve of saltines on the floor. No proof of anything, not much said. But what was said was enough. In that moment, Five knew: he would do anything you wanted to. 

You didn’t demand much. Maybe that was how people realized they would do anything for someone. Because they wouldn’t demand something irrational for them? Maybe that’s what made the few irrational demands doable? He realized he would do anything for you. 

Whatever you want. 

You looked over at him, a slight smile. “I Love Lucy marathon?” 

He couldn’t drag his eyes away from your face. 

“Whatever you want.”

… 

Whatever you want. 

——

being the only siblings that are blood related, you and five got along well

...sometimes

you were the only person five wasn't THAT mean to

but that's only because you were mean to him too

and he hated that

it was just how you two's relationship worked

all the other siblings laugh when you get on five because he's exactly like that to the others

then five gets worked up, "you guys are laughing now but watch me save your lives again."

although you guys are twins, both of you have different powers

you have telekinesis, where you can control things with your mind

when you concentrate hard enough, you are sometimes able to control other people's minds too

which worked a few times with dad when you were younger to get out of training

five knew instantly and got mad at you everytime you did that

"you're cheating, y/n"

"if dad knew I'm using my power just like training he'd probably be proud."

five snickers, "that's funny. he doesn't know how to be proud."

you were devastated when five disappeared into God knows where

he was someone you always had with you; you felt so empty and alone without him

when you had the guts to finally stand up to dad and leave the house, the first thing you did was look for five

researched every little thing you can find on the internet, newspapers and articles but you got nothing

you didn't realize that you were burying yourself with research for years until one day you got a phone call saying dad died

everyone reunited back at home for dad's funeral

while you and your siblings blabbed about nonsense, you heard something from outside

all of you rush out to see what it was and then your twin brother fell from the sky

except he wasn't really your twin anymore because he looked much younger than you

"hey little brother." you teased him

he didn't make a sarcastic remark this time, gave you a big warm hug instead

"I missed you so much. All of you."

In his mind, there was nothing redeeming or remotely beautiful about the apocalyptic ruins in which you two walked. Survival was his main focus although what drove him, he didn’t know. Maybe it was in hopes of seeing his family again. In hopes that he could get you back to yours. These were the few miniscule ideas that kept him going despite the sun’s heat and the intense growl in his stomach. 

“Today’s a nice day.” you say, pulling the sheet that clothed your hair down further. 

“I think we have two very different definitions of nice.” he sighed, kicking the rocks that lay in his path. 

You shake your head, taking a small swig of your water. “No. I just think you’re choosing not to stop and take a look.” 

“At what?” 

“The world.” 

“I can see the world, Y/N. It’s shit.”

That was the thing about you that Five found odd. He had found you on his twelfth day in the future sitting in the ruins of a building with an expired can of fruit and a book in your hand. A pathetic picture to come across if you asked him. You had no recollection of how you survived or where you were from. Five had almost made the decision of leaving you but the small sliver of humanity that was left had won the mental debate and here he was. 

You had an unique optimism and with anyone else it would have bothered him. The attitude typically followed with a bubbly personality and Five had little to no patience with most people but bubbly people especially. However, you talked of the silly, somewhat romantic, ideas in a serene tone that reminded him of his brother, Klaus. It was that peaceful aura of yours that kept him company through the rougher days. He wouldn’t ever admit it but you kept him from falling off the deep end. 

He would say sanity but he figured he was far past gone in that department. 

“I mean the good stuff. It may be hard to see from where we stand but there’s some good.” 

He bit back a sarcastic laugh. “Like what?” 

You fell into step with him, squinting in the shine of the sun. “Well, I finally took the time to read. I didn’t know I would enjoy it this much.” 

Five scoffs. “That’s nice.” 

You sigh at his sarcastic remark, though you were used to them by now. The sun was setting now similar to the hue of an egg yolk. Heat still lingered on your skin as you looked at him with a smile. “Come on. There has to be something that you’re grateful for. Something that keeps you going.” 

His façade seemed to glitch for a mere second before he recollected himself once more. One thing came to his mind. Something was more along the lines of someone, that someone being you. Of course, he wouldn’t tell you that. There was no need to be vulnerable and make matters more complicated than they already were. 

“Yeah. Your pestering.” he jokes with a smirk. His eyes fall on some ruins with odd books sticking out and astray. He nodded to the hideaway, lugging the small collection of necessities he had brought with him. 

“Nice to know my voice keeps us alive. That’s very sweet of you, Five.” you tease, collapsing against the wall. 

He rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his water. You pick up the stack of books that lay by your side, flipping the pages with a sigh. Five watches as you toss it aside, flipping through another only to do the same. “They’re in Greek.” 

“Hand me those.” he calls. You lift the book to him, his fingers lightly grazing yours during the exchange. Five flips the book to its title. “Oedipus Rex.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “You read Greek?” 

He nods, turning the page. “η σκηνή” 

Your eyes light up with curiosity. “What does that mean?” 

Five looks up, your eyes the brightest he’d seen them in a while despite the need for sleep that lingered in them. He sighed, clearing his throat as you smiled. “The Scene. Before the palace of Oedipus, King of Thebes. A central door and two lateral doors open onto a platform which runs the length of the façade…” 

You watched Five as he read, noticing the miniscule changes in his demeanor. The stern countenance in his eyes dimmed to a soft curiosity, similar to a small child’s. His face relaxed and his voice no longer scolded but flowed gently as he read. In his peace, you found sweet lullabies that drew your eyes closed as the journeys of Oedipus faded from your mind. 

>>><<<

You and Five decided on staying at the ruins for a bit. Enough food and accessible water was around to make camp for a few days. When the sun shone the two of you worked making little to no conversation. Five preferred to scavenge in silence and you didn’t mind obliging to his few demands. It was mainly at night in which the two of you conversed, when the air was cooler and the day at an end. 

“Hey, Five.” you mumble. 

Both of you laid with your backs on the ground. Your eyes were gazing upwards as were Five’s. “Yeah, Y/N?” 

“Isn’t it odd that the one thing that stayed the same in the world were the stars?” 

He nodded. “If anything they got brighter.” he added. 

“Yeah. It’s like we’re looking at one big storybook.” you say, pointing out lines of stars. “Leo, Ursa, Sextans.” Five follows your finger, a bright star lying under the tip. “That bright star right there is Regulus. Each constellation has a myth.” 

“Myths by the Greeks. And the Greeks loved their tragedies.” he tapped the book that lay by his side. “Look at old Oedipus here. He’s suffering a pretty bad fate I’d say.” 

“Not all stories are tragic. Actually most stories have happy endings I would say. If I were in a story this would all be so easy.” 

Five shakes his head. “I disagree. Technically we’ll be a story and our ending isn’t happy at all.” 

You turn to him. “You think so?” 

He turns to you with a smirk. “Sure. An untold one. But I don’t see a happy ending in sight for us.” 

“Now I’m going to have to disagree.” you say quietly. “There’s always a silver lining.” 

A silver lining. It was something so common yet so uniquely you. Of course you believed in them. After all you still had hope despite Five’s persistent effort to get your head out of the clouds and your feet back on the ground. He had never believed in silver linings but he liked the idea when you said it. It seemed real. Genuine. 

Your eyes wander to the stars once more with a smile. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I think the best stories are the saddest ones. They’re the most real, right?” 

He nods, fighting the soft smile on his lips. “Right.” 

“So maybe our story is sad. But you can only know what’s sad if you know what’s good in this world.” you turned over, your head resting against your backpack and your eyes beginning to sink. “There’s a silver lining in this somewhere. Maybe you just haven’t found it yet.” 

Your eyes fluttered close and your breathing came to a steady pace as Five looked up at the stars. His own open storybook clouded with your silver linings. Five’s story was a tragic one. His opinion would never change on that. It belonged to be painted in the sky for eternity, one of the many tales in your storybook. But perhaps there was a silver lining to it all. 

Yours was the stars. 

His was the person who pointed them out. 

>>><<<

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