An Umbrella Academy Sideblog (I guess)

Oh, now I must finish what I started I'll write a symphony for the departed Oh, I have no time for second chances So I survive on bourbon, blood, and backward glances

So, dry your eyes and count to ten They'll have me on the pyre by then

For the Departed by Shayfer James

(Image ID below the cut)

So, Five's powers seem to conserve momentum through a jump--see when Luther throws him off the stairs in S2E5. (Insert Portal "speedy thing goes in, speedy thing comes out.") Also based on this clip, he can change the direction of the portal, since he goes in nearly vertically, and turns it horizontally to not, you know, pancake.

With this in mind, I think Five could do a very fun approximation of skydiving/flying. He'd probably start out by jumping off a roof, let himself fall to very close to the ground, then flip the portal direction 180° and fling himself into the air, repeat until maximum velocity. He could probably slowly build up speed instead of jumping off a roof, but given how his powers seem to run out and who he is as a person, he'd likely find the roof a "more efficient option."

The very fluffy option, besides the mental image of a pre-apocalypse Five flinging himself into the air and giving everyone watching (including the neighbors) a heart attack, is that in a fit of sibling-to-sibling compassion, he'd do this with Viktor.

The way I see it going down is that Viktor would be feeling down about not having powers again, likely after special training or maybe even a mission. Five would see this, and tell him to meet him on the roof after lights out, no they're not all going to Griddy's, it's just for him, since the others already have powers. And it's more fun to imagine that he hasn't shared this ability yet, so Viktor really isn't sure what's going to happen, but he meets Five up there. Hr asks why, and Five says that if he wants, he can give him the power of flight, for a little while at least.

He's surprised, and extremely anxious, because honestly what the hell Five. He's asking Viktor to jump off a roof for fun. There's no way this could go well. But he trusts Five not to murder him on purpose, and when he says he can do something, he can do it. And, really, Viktor wants to know what it would be like, to have powers, to fly. So he accepts, and they jump off the roof.

Falling is the most frightening thing Viktor has ever done, by a large margin, and he's sure as the ground approaches that he's really going to die now. Then there's the swooshy feeling of Five's jumps, and suddenly they're going upwards, and the wind is in his hair, and when he finally manages to open his eyes to peek through his fear, they're high, high above the ground. Then there's a frozen moment when they're suspended in the air, and sure, Five's doing the work and he's grinning at Viktor in that annoying smug I-told-you-so look he gets far too often, but it almost feels like it really is Viktor's power, and he's the one doing it. It's the most thrilling thing he's ever done.

Of course, Five leaves eventually and all that, but once everyone gets reunited, it definitely gets brought up again. Viktor as an adult is appalled that he jumped off the roof as a child. Also, apparently he can really fly, so there's that. He probably wrote about it in his book, so once they eventually remember about it, the other siblings get curious and want to try, so Five goes flying with all of them, and even if he says it's ridiculous, he smiles the whole time.

Luther screams on the way down and denies it, and decides it's not his thing.

Diego very pointedly does not scream, but gets a little dizzy after too many jumps, so only does it a few times in a row, and very infrequently.

Allison screams on the way down and does not deny it. She doesn't like it the first few times but eventually really enjoys it. She doesn't do it very often anyway, because she feels very immature doing it and very seen when they get too high, and that's not a combination she's often in the mood for.

Klaus is ecstatic about this, and shrieks at the top of his lungs. This is his jam. When he wants to go flying he asks Five if they can "get high together." Five is not amused, and also completely misunderstood the first time Klaus asked that way.

Viktor finds it just as fun as the first time, and both nostalgic and freed by being able to do this again. More than the flying, it feels like Five is really back, and it's that more than the adrenaline and illusion of powers now that makes her happy.

When Claire comes to visit, he definitely takes her flying. It's Claire's new favorite thing. It's Allison's new least favorite thing. Allison knows Five wouldn't endanger Claire, but also, she feels she really can't condone her child jumping off a roof, so it's a point of debate whenever it comes up. They still get to do it sometimes, and Claire will occasionally announce afterwards that Five is "the best uncle." Five is smug and gloats for days afterwards, to the point of absolute insufferability.

Claire has seen the Lonely Man in her dreams for as long as she can remember.

or

It's not just the big things, either. It is those things too, of course, and they're the things he thinks about. Becoming an assassin. Being a child soldier. Every jump through time, every new apocalypse, every broken timeline. It's all those things.

But it was also just the decision to keep living after the first jump, and everything that entailed. Resources were scarce, and had to be rationed. Every bite destroyed it forever, could no longer be saved for when he was even hungrier later, and the relief never really lasted that long. When he had to resort to cockroaches, they were one of the few living creatures left. Maybe he respected them for being like him, survivors, and hated the fact that he killed them, as if he were killing a version of himself each time.

It's the way he would wear down his boots to nothing until he could feel pavement on his feet, because he walked so much, and he got attached to even the smallest comfortable familiarities. The world was all his, but it wasn't, really. There were so few things he kept. Every time he picked up a new pair of boots, or goggles, or clothes, he was reminded of how he wore down the last one to nothing, how he actively ruined a thing he cared about just by using it. He would always watch Dolores carefully for awhile afterwards, so delicate, afraid he would wear her down and away too.

It's the way he would get injuries large and small, sicknesses and wounds alike. Each choice he made could lead to pain, to unproductivity, to a slow death that meant the end of the world was a forever thing. He couldn't afford that, and each scar became not only a mark of survival, but also of poor judgement, miscalculation. The world was not the thing destroying him, not really, only the choices he made. After all, the end of the world was the result of a choice he made, because he is destructive, no matter how hard he tries not to be.

Even when he tried to fix things, he only destroyed them. The chalk he used turned to nothing so quickly, and when he made a mistake, as he so often did, the equations would need to be discarded, just a waste. He would prick himself with the needles he used to repair clothes, which would always rip along new seams a few days later. Feeding cockroaches just meant he had less food of his own, which turned him once again to needing to eat them to survive. Breaking a bone meant a slow recovery, a harder time scavenging, less daylight to work on equations, and a body that never quite returned to normal.

The things that are most useful get destroyed. Five is the one who destroys them. These are the lessons he learned at the end of the world, and ones he relearns every time he tries to fix what he has broken. Another apocalypse. Another family. Another mistake.

While I was writing my latest fic, which was about Five and Luther bonding over the similarities between the moon and the apocalypse (here, if you're interested), I was struck by the thought that, actually, the moon would be a great prison for Five.

After all, even though he can jump through time and space, he needs somewhere to jump to. Even his most generous spatial range of Dallas to New York(?) is only around 1,500 miles, and the distance to the moon is 238,900 miles (about 160x greater). I know we don't know his actual range limit, but he seems to stick to under the distance of a block, generally. Also, his highpoint Dallas-New York jumps are in conjunction with time travel, in pretty high-stress scenarios, and he didn't even necessarily mean to move for one of them. The moon-Earth jump just doesn't seem like anywhere near a certainty, and jumping from the moon is not where you want to mess up.

Time travel is even worse. There is only one base on the moon that we know of in this universe, which is Luther's. That has only existed for around four years, maybe a little more if it was planned in advance, and it needs pretty constant maintenance, not to mention a supply of food, water, and air. Whether Luther's base itself or just something similar was used, the logistics are the same. A temporal jump would almost certainly put him into space or an uninhabitable base, and he would die.

Even if he got back to Earth, there are problems that being in decreased gravity for extended time can cause. Without proper exercise, the musculoskeletal system can deteriorate a surprising amount in a relatively short time. I assume that for Luther some of this was mitigated by his body's powers, but Five doesn't have that going for him. I'm not sure exactly how this plays out practically, but it's definitely physically weakening and would put him in a more vulnerable position for recapture.

Also, weightlessness can mess with proprioception, which is an awareness of the position of one's body. I don't know how Five finds the spot to jump to (it seems like he jumps too quickly for it to be calculated every time, especially in a fight), but proprioception seems like it would be a key factor in the process. If that's the case, he'd probably accidentally slam into walls or the floor, especially combined with the fact that he would need to readjust to Earth's gravity as well. He would either have to rely on shakier jumps to flee or fight, or do things the normal way, which is another point against him in evading capture.

In short, the moon would be a great way to keep Five in one place and time, since he would have nowhere else to go and it would weaken him upon return.

So, inevitably, from this idea comes an set of AUs.

Thirteen-year-old Five jumps straight to sometime between 2015 and 2019, and Reginald only sees the re-emergence of a problem child, and one who could destroy his plans. With only two tried and true methods of dealing with problem children that don't just leave on their own, he combines the two and gives Five a sedative (since Five would certainly not agree to politely get in the capsule) and sends him to the moon while he's out for Luther to deal with.

(I imagine the funeral meetup would be fun, with everyone freaking out when Five announces his return by blinking straight into a doorframe as Luther just sighs. Yes he has been back for a while. No we could not tell you because we were on the moon. Yes you can have him now, please take him.)

Some version of Five from the apocalypse (or even the Commission, I suppose) appears to Reginald and rambles about the apocalypse. Time travel has clearly addled the boy (or he knows too much), so Reginald proceeds much the same as with scenario 1, except with presumably more paranoia on Five's part. Luther now has to deal with a Five who keeps talking about the end of the world and writing on the walls, and hey, depending on how long it's been for Five, maybe he even has enough knowledge to actually figure out how to make the jump. Maybe, if he jumped early enough, he has a bit more time to solve the apocalypse. (And maybe there are Commission agents on the moon.)

Luther never has his accident, but Reginald has interests on the moon, and has a base there anyway. Five returns, and is sent there alone. Maybe nobody even knows he came back. Maybe Luther saw and has to make a decision. This works with any version of Five, and adds more angst and loneliness.

It's not like it's some life-ending secret, really. Not even a secret at all, just something private, something he hasn't gone out of his way to share. It's not harmful, just a few thoughts scribbled down onto extra-sturdy paper with a clumsy grip that leads to nearly unintelligible handwriting. It was one of the few comforts he'd had on the moon, so if Luther kept his logbook and still likes to maybe sometimes write a little—a lot—of poetry, then that's his business and his business alone.

Five got the ability to rewind time, including fatal injuries, at the end of season two. Does this mean that if he dies, he could just... undo it? Like, maybe he'd also have to rewind Klaus since we don't see Ben using his powers without Klaus making him corporeal, but his powers are only practical when physical, so maybe not even that. Of course, they could also just say that there's a limit to Five's power re: actually being dead, which is probably the best move they could do narratively if he were to die, but they have not established concrete rules about any aspect of Five's power and continually refuse to, so who can say what would happen?

First, here's what we know about them:

They were hired by the Commission, as shown by the fact that they had and used the tracker to find Five, and also that they were looking for Five at all, since he had been gone for seventeen years and only showed up that very day. That much is pretty clear, but it makes the rest of it super strange.

These guys are native to 2019, since in the next episode when Patch and Beaman are talking, they found the records for these "not-so-gentle gentlemen." Five's fingerprints raise questions, but these guys don't raise any red flags besides the situation itself, so they're probably not Commission proper. The goons also obviously don't have any clue about who Five is--at least, who Five is to the Commission-- since the leader also says "you think I want to shoot a kid?" and isn't surprised or confused that the target looks like a child instead of the old man Hazel and Cha-Cha were expecting. They weren't prepared for the teleporting, though Hazel and Cha-Cha weren't either, but it also seems like they weren't expecting any competence at all, which Hazel and Cha-Cha were. Their presence also alerted/reminded Five about the tracker in his arm, which he then removed and made finding him more difficult. Basically, they were ineffective at their job and actually made things worse for their successors.

That leads me to believe that the Commission, besides having their agents, also has a fund and set-up for in-timeline hires, and that it must be somewhat automated to go down the way it did. My headcanon for this headcanon is that whenever a Commission agent defects, it gets logged into the system and an in-time mercenary (or mercenaries) gets automatically or very quickly hired to hunt them down based on the competency rating of the agent. With the Handler's interest in Five, there's no way she would have approved those normal mercenaries before Hazel and Cha-Cha, so the only way I can see it happening is if it were an oversight on the Handler's part because it didn't have to get her sign-off.

Given the track record of Commission agents that we've seen, they can and do defect (maybe even often), and since we've also seen the importance of butterfly effect, it makes sense to have a system that acts quickly to eliminate them. It also works as a fear tactic to keep agents in line, since while you can form bonds with coworkers or maybe figure out a way to steal their briefcase (which you know how to use correctly, unlike civilians like Klaus), you can never be sure where danger is coming from with an in-time hire, and the Commission can always afford to hire more. It's only the out-of-time agents that get the insurance and pensions and retirement plans that are so expensive.

And, honestly? I'd love to see that side of the Commission, the kind where maybe delicacy isn't necessary in the same way, maybe the deaths can't be performed by someone random and untraceable or engineered quite right, and where maybe most defecting agents will eventually be hunted down by these kinds of hires because time usually isn't of the essence with them. I'm imagining a sort of accountant/assassin-based sitcom around dealing with the intricacies of being outside of time and trying to work with different currencies and hiring methods, as well as the technological difficulties of having a tracker on someone in, say, the 1100s. There's also an AU in there where they didn't exist, Hazel and Cha-Cha had the tracker, and they showed up at Vanya's and basically proved that there really was a time-travelling assassin agency, and that Five had worked there. That probably would have changed a few things plot-wise, lmao.

Imagine the possibilities:

Ghost!Ben would be presented with a golden opportunity to see and make fun of his evil, emo alternate self, and to do so without any repercussions since he's already dead.

Klaus could also manifest ghost!Ben as a confusion tactic--like, that's good for a pretty big surprise at least once.

A manifested ghost!Ben following the Sparrows around and acting very annoying on purpose, and finding a great joy in that.

If the possession thing is not restricted to just Klaus, then seeing ghost!Ben possess Sparrow!Ben and utterly failing at copying him. (-You're the same person, though! How did that go wrong? -We're not really the same. He's an asshole! -You're an asshole too! -No, you! )

Would Paradox Psychosis go into effect? Would it be fine if ghost!Ben were unmanifested, but start the moment he becomes physical? Do ghosts get itchy? Would it only affect Sparrow!Ben? I don't know, but that would be a wild time.

Ghost!Ben getting to hug and hang out with his other three siblings (Luther, Allison, and Five were robbed of that last season.)

In fact, ghost!Ben getting to hang out with all his siblings, and not just having to be completely ignored by most of them for a season and a half at least (not that they ignored him on purpose, ofc).

Ghost!Ben looking at Sparrow!Ben, who is alive, and wondering what differences led to that, and if it truly was his siblings' fault he was dead, or if being alive would be worth it if he turned out like Sparrow!Ben.

Ghost!Ben deciding that he's glad he didn't turn out that way, that he's glad he has his siblings, and finally feeling more content about his own death once he's seen the alternative. There's probably a family conversation about it, and I like to think it ends in a group hug, where Ben feels, not alive--there's nothing that can be done to truly fix that--but loved and included once again.

Do you think about how the primes all went their separate directions, 5 first, then sometime 2 and 3 and 7 (and 4and6), leaving 1 all alone? How 1 is meant to be a common factor for every other number, uniting them all, but doesn't have any other factor itself, neither prime nor composite on its own?

Do you ever think about twin primes, prime numbers separated by a gap of two, so close and yet so far? How 5 and 7 were twin primes, and when 5 is gone, 7 has no twin?

Do you ever think about 2, the only even prime, a number that seems like it should be composite but isn't? How 2 is an exception like 1 is, an unusual prime, except not quite as exceptional, not requiring its own category outside of the regular rules like 1 does?

Do you ever think about 3, the first number to follow all the prime rules, indivisible and odd, about how it plays into structure like the rule of thirds, the rule of three, of "I'm going to count to three?" How a triangle is said to be the strongest shape, made to hold its form under immense pressure, to act as support, to stay perfect to eternity?

So, imagine this: it's after the Umbrella Academy's big reveal to the public, and they're getting all this press attention and getting invited to all these talk shows.

For one of them, they're waiting backstage for their turn, and some comedian is on before them. Conversation turns to the Umbrella kids since they're on later, and of course the comedian starts making all these jokes. It's probably something along the lines of how hard it would be to parent these kids, and it goes something like this:

"Now, listen, seven kids is already a bit of a nightmare, but kids with superpowers?" The comedian flattens himself against his chair for effect as the parents in the crowd laugh. "Reginald Hargreeves must be a very brave man."

"I don't know how he does it," the host replies, laughing slightly.

"No, but seriously, with these kids it's a one-two punch of physical intimidation, and the psychological. Like, for example, the strong one. Can you imagine if your toddler locks eyes with you and just pick up your car? You'd give him whatever he wanted!" Backstage, Luther shifts uncomfortably.

"Or maybe the knife boy," Diego straightens, listening intently. "That's a horror movie right there; you drop a knife and suddenly it's lodged in the table right next to your hand. I've seen Carrie, I know how this goes!"

"And don't get me started on the pure psychological effects of the other ones! I mean, listen, I'm not getting into the ramifications of the afterlife here," as if I know what's going on with all that, Klaus mutters, "but I don't want my kid telling me that the last person who lived here watches me sleep, thank you very much! I have to go to work the next day!"

"Or the literal mind-controller?" Allison goes very still. "That's a villain in the making! And a kid with that sort of ability?" The comedian mimes nervousness as Allison's posture goes defensive. "I mean, Jesus Christ, I have nightmares about that sort of thing! That's basically a Twilight Zone episode!"

"And one of them is just a straight up eldritch horror." Ben brings his hands up to his stomach, pressing in on himself. "You couldn't pay me to get near that one."

"But in my opinion, the worst one is the teleporter." Five tilts his head up and smiles like a shark. A faint blue tinge forms around his hands, not that anyone sees. "There's nowhere to hide, man! There isn't a security system in the world that could keep him out! He could murder you in a second and have a foolproof alibi. He could be anywhere, watching you, and you'd never know. The boy must be a menace, I'm telling you."

And with that, the blue around Five's hands is fully formed as he flicks on his wireless mic, jumping onstage just as the staff member watching them realizes what's going on. He appears behind the comedian in a flash, just as the laughter is beginning to die down. The host looks startled, but that's not enough warning before Five leans down into the comedian's ear and says, perfectly audible to everyone:

"The boy can hear you, you know."

The comedian leaps out of his skin, shrieking. Five smirks at him for a second, just long enough to be threatening, before he jumps backstage to the sound of his siblings' laughter. The studio cuts to a break, with the comedian swearing up a blue streak before they manage it, and the comedian decides that the rest of his air time isn't worth it, actually. The Hargreeves' interview is...interesting, but they get through it. Five is immensely pleased with himself.

He is slightly less pleased, however, when he finds out that the clip of him doing that gets instantly famous, getting played and replayed in various places, and eventually people just start referring to him as The Boy in a joking sort of shorthand. The others start to get names too, but they're all a lot cooler than his, which is a bit of an ego blow.

When he goes to the apocalypse, this stops being an issue for a bit, but it gets even worse when he gets back. In the show, this would just be for about a week of people going, "Hey, is The Boy back, and still, you know, a boy?" In an AU where the apocalypse is averted, this goes on for a lot longer, and Five always grouses that "At this point it should at least be The Man, damn it." The Hargreeves then helpfully refer to him as The Man for about a week, paired up with jokes that "The Man is keeping us down!" whenever Five vetos a suggestion. Five Is Not Amused by any of this.

I enjoy most of the characters in Umbrella Academy, but my favorite is Five! As for why, there are a lot of reasons, but I think, writing-wise it's because I don't know what he will do at any given moment, but I trust where he's going. This is a difficult balance to pull off, but I'll try to explain exactly what I mean and why I feel that way.

Firstly, I don't know what he'll do, which makes him interesting to watch. He's full of contradictions in many ways, he's very resourceful, and he's written as someone who is extremely smart. (Though another thing I find interesting is that unlike with many other "genius" characters, intelligence--as in knowledge or ability like with his scribbling-on-the-walls math--isn't his primary trait, at least not to me. Before that I would say that he is at least determined, as well as resourceful in a way that isn't linked strictly to book smarts. Instead, he's driven on sustained desperation that "geniuses" never seem to get in media, and even though he's so smart and generally competent, his plans often or always fail, which I actually made a whole post about. Even further, we know he's 58, so his knowledge is based not only on natural ability, but also a lot of work and time, which is also not the general presentation. We know he's smart, but figuring out time travel took him a whole lifetime.) Anyway, even his power set is...fluidly defined. I don't know what plans he will make, or what side effects will follow--only that, based on past experience, side effects will follow. As such, I'm very entertained watching him constantly pivoting and coming up with new ideas and plans, especially since I think he gets more plot turns than anyone else in the series, or at least is a more active force in those turns.

His choices also showcase the desperation that is at the core of him, and the moral greyness that comes from it. He's not bound by normal considerations like most of the others are; often, he doesn't even consider them. What might be off-limits to others isn't off-limits to him (which is like his powers in a funny kind of way). But really, it all stems from the fact of having lost everything with his 45-year stint in the apocalypse and the loneliness that comes from that. It's an interesting philosophical thought experiment. What are morals in a dead world? What are a few thousand people compared to the end of humanity? What are we if everything else gets stripped away?

And for Five, the answer is not in the violence we've seen him commit, but instead the love he shows. He was presented as a prickly genius who is smarter than everyone and knows everything (like he says to Allison in ep 1) and who is also a time-travelling assassin hardened by decades in a wasteland. We expect competence, cold calculation, and a near-complete lack of empathy. But then we meet Dolores, and we learn that he's doing everything for his family, and we see that everything he does is for love of other people. Specific other people, sure, but love nonetheless. And he isn't cool about it, isn't aloof; he's lost it all before, and he's desperate, and nothing he does--despite what most shows tell you about geniuses--really fixes any problem completely, and especially not the relationships that got broken when he left.

Yet even despite all that, he's also predictable in a way that lets me trust him. Obviously, as an audience, we see how pressing and devastating the apocalypse is. It's the end. Yet none of the other characters understand that the way we do, or the way Five does. His ultimate goal is to stop that from happening and protect his family, and given his life experience, I know that there is nothing that will stop him as long as he's around. I trust that his character will make decisions towards an end goal that I agree with as the audience, and that as long as that remains true, I know that even if I don't know where he's going with a plan, I can at least trust his intent. Even with the Commission, where he worked as an assassin and presumably murdered innocents, the end goal is great enough that it makes sense. Moreover, though, is that once we see that his motivation is for love and to protect, not from a place of sadism or superiority, and that he will even listen to others to find a less violent workaround (as with Luther in s1), I trust his intentions even more.

That's part of what makes the murder of the Board, and then the aftermath, so interesting: it's a study in contradiction, the urge to be violent and feel seen and effective and successful, contrasted with a sense of guilt and remorse and an understanding that it's not the best version of himself. He's warring with those instincts, but the writers have portrayed him in a way that allows for understanding and sympathy.

For another thing, as I think @the-aro-ace-arrow-ace mentioned, given his unique standing as both 13 and 58, he can't really have a romantic relationship to pull him away like the others can, nor do I think he would if he could, considering the timespan the show tends to give him. He's not really in the mindset for romance at all, and especially not a romance that would distract him from his goals. Not only was Dolores an extension of his own mind for a long time, but also was one he was willing to abandon, first going with the Handler, then again towards the end of season 1. Not only does this make his goals less likely to be swayed from what I, as an audience member, consider to be important, but also romance as the sort of "love at first sight, I will prioritize you over everyone else without any real merit behind it" is always a bit flimsy to me. Maybe I'm a little too aromantic to get it, but I generally find it a bit distracting at best unless done really well. (I did like Raymond and Allison as a couple. I thought that was done really well, where they had time and chemistry and respect for each other, and I enjoyed the time they spent together. It doesn't hurt that Allison is my second favorite, but it stands well even besides that. It's just a good relationship.)

Finally, all of that plays into Five's relationships with others. He isn't good at being a social creature (understandable), yet that's what he values most: his family. He wants to be empathetic--and in many cases he can be--but he's battling his own inability to be understood. He doesn't even fully understand himself in the world he left when he was a child. In a very real sense, he can't do what has become most important to him--not that his siblings are the best role models for communication. It makes sense, then, that he was able to seemingly connect with Reginald. Five wants to connect with the people he missed and felt like he wronged, no matter if he actually was in the wrong or not. He so often gets ignored/misunderstood/considered crazy that even as someone just watching that conversation, it felt cathartic for him to be listened to and taken seriously, even if I think Reginald is the absolute worst and that the best thing for him to do would be to stay dead. Five thought he was being the most rational of his siblings in that supper, but he didn't realize that his biases were as strong or stronger, and just had a different root. His relationships with others are his strongest desire/goal/motivator, but he has such a distorted perception of the way the world works on a daily, interpersonal level and also who he is in that world, that he can't really make it work right, and that's really neat to watch.

In my mind, also, what Five is looking for isn't actually his family from 2019. It isn't even his family from 2002, or at least not just them. I think that what he wants is to be who he was when he left, before he got stuck in the apocalypse. He wants his family because he loves them--I don't doubt that, and I don't want to discredit it--but also because I think in some sense he believes that if he can just be with them again, he can make things the way they used to be, the way he used to be. He's kind of like Luther in that regard, except that Luther is beginning to move on, and Five is stuck in it. The tragedy in this, of course, is that he's the time traveller here, and no matter what time he goes to, his only choice is forwards for himself. He can't go back, even if he reaches the exact moment he left. This, of course, is speculation--or analysis, if we use the kinder term--but I think it shows how much can be read into his character based on his choices and narrative arc, and that in itself is interesting whether it was intended or not.