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Five first realised she was different when she was 9 years old.Not different in the way that she already knew she was different - the kids on the streets and in the schools never had to practice their spatial jumps, or sit through boring interviews - but different in the way that she hadn't realised was different. Being surrounded by only your family and a few reporters your whole life doesn't really clue you in on social norms, and she was quite used to assuming things were normal without really knowing.She was smart, after all, and figured that anything unusual should be noticeable.It was Four that made her realise this strangeness - he'd made some offhand agreement with Three over the attractiveness of whatever celebrity she was going on about that week, and the room had suddenly drowned in an uncomfortable silence, the kind that wraps its hands around your throat and chokes you whenever you dare to try and end it. Four seemed to be the only one not seeing it, as he turned back to the screen with a smile. Two shuffled nervously beside him, and One was quick to break the silence."Four, you agree with her?""Of course I do," Four blinked back at One owlishly, shrugging, "he's a pretty dude."One had no response for that one, simply blinking back at him and opening his mouth as if to speak - and Five was frankly sick of it, so she pawed at Four's knee playfully, slipping into her notorious deadpan shrug; "I think he's pretty too, Four, you're right."It confused her to no end when One shrugged off her agreement as if it was nothing in favour of dissecting Four.It happened a few more times, but peaked when they grew to be 11.Four had made another nonchalant comment on how "absolutely beautiful" some boy-band singer was (which Three was quick to agree with), and One had questioned him again, eyebrows furrowed, face scrunched."You can't say that," One insisted, confusion in his eyes. "that's not right."And Five had watched as Four's eyes watered, hands trembling as he quietly muttered that maybe One wasn't right. Five had watched as Four silently slunk off to his room, Six quick to follow, and had spared One not even a glance before jumping into Four's room and holding him close."I don't think you're wrong," Five muttered, talking her way through her uncharacteristic show of affection, "to love someone beautiful. One just doesn't have functioning brain-cells."Four had laughed, shoving her away, and wiped his eyes on his sleeves - then began his detailed explanation of just how pretty the celebrity-boy was.Five was 12 when she got her first girl-crush.The lucky subject was Griddy's newest worker, a teenage girl with a tan and curly blonde hair, thick eyeliner smudged around her eyes and sequins stuck on her cheekbones like sparkly freckles. She'd been so kind to her when she walked in, letting her take an entire booth-table to herself, and handing out her order with a dimpled smile and glittering eyes."You're beautiful," Five found herself unexpectedly spouting when the waitress came back for her money, face flushing red. The girl laughed, throwing her hair over her shoulder with a simple flick of her head."So are you, gorgeous," she giggled as she spoke, and Five found herself blushing at the nickname, "though you'd be prettier with a name."A moment of fear passed, as Five realised that numbers didn't usually count as names - but she smoothed the fear out of her expression with practised speed, and shot the waitress her most charming smile. "Five," she offered her hand, "Five Hargreeves."The waitress giggled again, taking the offered appendage - "Delores Miller, gorgeous" - before walking away with a smile.(Five told Four about Delores when she got home, and didn't miss the way his eyes sparkled.)Grace offered them all names, at an unusually lighthearted dinnertime.Luther turned his head upwards in pride; Diego smiled warmly at his mother; Allison jumped a little in unrestrained excitement; Klaus shook and smiled with emotion; Ben nodded nervously from behind his brother; and Vanya thanked Grace quietly from across the room - and yet Five found herself unable to replicate the joy of the others.Grace, bless her heart, was as perceptive as ever, and quickly noticed her child not quite joining in the celebration. She slipped wordlessly around the others, gently detaching Diego from her waist as she walked, and kneeled before Five, smiling gently; "What's wrong, my dear?"Five's face scrunched up with emotion she didn't recognise - something thick and heavy and suffocating that she didn't quite have the words for - and she barely felt her eyes begin to water before Grace was wiping them with her thumbs, soft smile still in place. "I think," Five swallowed, blinking away more tears, "I think I'd rather be Five."The others stilled in shock, and Reginald's eyes glinted with annoyance - but Grace's smile only softened further, and she stroked at Five's shoulder-length curls with gentle hands. "That's alright, Five. You can be Five if you really want to."And if Five's eyes watered again, well, that's nobody else's business.Five cut her hair short one night with Diego's scissors. Grace took one look at her uneven strands, tutted, and retrieved the hair-clippers from the bathroom cabinet.She didn't dare to speak a word as Grace clipped her hair, fearing that her voice would ruin the moment - and yet she couldn't hold back the choked sob that escaped her throat when Grace turned her towards the mirror, a smile on her face."Look at you," Grace's soft voice rang clear in the quiet of the night, "so handsome."Five's gentle cries and thanks were less choked when she was wrapped around Grace's midsection in a hug.Honestly, looking back on it, Five has no idea how he ever thought he was a she.It'd taken someone saying it for him to see it himself - Luther had been sorting out teams for their half-hour of entertainment (a new game he'd seen someone play on TV), and Diego had insisted on having Five on their team."Come on, Luther," Diego rolled his eyes, gesturing at the smaller Hargreeves with wide arms. "he's fast and smart, we'll win no matter what."Five almost forgot to actually walk over to the rest of his team, he was so busy staring wide-eyed at his brother."It was okay, wasn't it?" Diego asked through a crack in Five's door that night. "I can call you my brother, can't I? That's what you like?"Five considered lying for a moment, because he'd never seen this go well before; but then he remembered that it was Diego he was talking about, and found himself half-smiling at his not-big brother. "Yeah, Di, it is.""Alright," the knife-thrower stretched, smiling. "G'night, bro.""Goodnight, Diego."That night he dreamt of the future - short hair, schoolboy shorts, and a voice that dropped like his brothers'.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Not all things can be perfect forever, Five realised, once time decided to rear its ugly head and send him reeling.He'd never turned as beet-red before as he did that day, shuffling awkwardly into Allison's room, asking to borrow something from her special drawer. She glanced at him hard for a second, before her gaze softened with realisation."Go ahead, bro," she smiled warmly, and turned back to pressing buttons on her dinky little music player that barely even worked anymore. He didn't wait for any further cue, just stepped into her room and slid the drawer open, taking a pack of what he needed and - face still bright red, eyes gleaming with frustration - slipped quietly out of the door.It was a mess, to say the least, and he had to wear some of his old underwear under his shorts, because his boy stuff wasn't the right shape to hold the towel in place. Klaus caught him on his way out of the bathroom and followed him like a puppy into his bedroom, perching gently at the end of his bed and rubbing circles into his back when he lay down to cry, face tight with frustration."You're alright," Klaus soothed, voice wavering with uncertainty, "you'll be alright. It'll be over in a day or two, don't worry."Klaus didn't quite understand Five, at first, but he was getting better at it, as time went along.The two brothers weren't as different as you'd assume, looking at them - neither of them seemed to quite fit in the right way, like they were patched up with old fabric. Klaus rebelled with his drugs and sips of dad's alcohol and dressing like the punk kids from the high-school down the road, and Five rebelled by talking at dinner-times and challenging rules and never backing down. They had two different approaches to their rebellion, certainly, but they were approaches nonetheless.They only realised how similar they were when Klaus had sat at the end of Five's bed - listening to another of his dramatic speeches about selling his organs on the black market if Reginald didn't shape up and fix them for him - and, playing with the hem of his skirt, piped in with a gentle "I'm sometimes like you, I think".Five had stopped in his tracks, turning to his brother with confusion written plainly on his face. "What?"The taller boy's face scrunched up as if he'd said something ridiculous. "Well, no, not like you. The other way around. But not always, only sometimes, and I never wanna be a she," he paused and shrugged, still playing with his skirt, looking at a mark on the wall rather than his brother. "but I dunno. Gender's hard, yeah? You always say that, when people ask."The boy's brows furrowed, and he nodded slowly, lowering himself to sit beside his brother. "So, what, you're everything? Just at different times?""Yeah! Well, maybe. Dunno."Five's eyebrow quirked momentarily, and a smirk worked its way onto his face. "Welcome to the club, Klaus. Nobody knows who the fuck they are around here."Five and Allison and Klaus fell into a sort of routine. Every month, Five turned up at Allison's bedroom door, red-faced and furious, and she wordlessly handed him whatever he asked for and watched him shuffle uncomfortably down the hallway. Klaus waited at the end of Five's bed for his brother to return, and sat and let him cry out his anger until he was ready to talk.Sometimes Ben slipped in, too, and Klaus lay across Five's bed, Ben's legs bent over him. Ben would sit and read whatever book he'd decided on that day, Five would vent his frustrations as if his vocal chords were about to be confiscated, and Klaus would chirp out tidbits of comfort and related struggles.A few hours in, Five would crack open a window so the smoke from Klaus' blunt stopped fogging up the room, and the three brothers would lie on his bed in comfortable quiet, touching each other only minimally but enough to be sure of their presence.The dinner was a climax of frustration and rebellion, and Five had barely caught Vanya's eye as he'd rushed out of the door.Her eyes were begging him to stop, thick with uncharacteristic emotion, and he'd wavered for a second - too small of a second for anyone to notice, but just long enough for fear to spike in his heart - before he was running again, out into the world, down the pavement and along the street.He hadn't really tried, only hoped, scrunching his face in frustration and darting forwards as far as he could manage - and suddenly it was another date, another season, and people looked at him as if he were unusual."Not ready, my ass," he'd snarked, smirk widening, before going for another leap.Another change of seasons. Stalls in the streets and smiles on strangers' faces. His name on a worn-down missing persons poster that he barely saw before he was jumping again--And landing in nothing.Nothing in the sense that, despite there very much being ground beneath his feet and rubble beside him, he was definitely alone, all of a sudden. His eyes fogged with smoke that threatened to clog his lungs worse than Klaus' blunts ever had; the stench of burning meat and dust hit him like a truck; his feet began moving and dragging him along with them, down the way he'd came, stumbling up to the academy gates with a determined speed that only Five could really achieve.And yet he was still alone, the academy barely standing - and time refused to budge no matter how hard he prodded - so he fell to his knees and cried instead.She was almost whole, and nearly pristine (when compared to the filthy rubble she lay against), and looked at him with a sweetness in her (fake) eyes that he'd long began to miss. She told him (in his head) that she was Delores, and that she missed her family, and that she'd been waiting for her own personal hero - for a handsome survivor like him to emerge from the ashes like a phoenix and take her away from here, to the past, where everything was okay and could be fixed.He didn't question how she survived; only smiled warmly at her, promised to keep her safe, and strapped her into the half-broken wagon he'd found across the store.