Chapter Text
Somewhere inside Five’s chest, a power that’s been dormant for more than half a year surges to life.
When he instinctively reaches for it, it reaches back, flooding through his veins like a shot of adrenaline.
The headlights of the train flash, the horn blares, the train driver stares at him in utter horror, the gaggle of drunk people down the platform scream, and Five—
Five is gone.
Marcus jerks awake at a loud crash, leaping to his feet with the reflexes of someone who spent most of his life as a crime-fighter.
On bare foot, he moves swiftly but silently across his bedroom and into the living room. It’s dark, and he can’t see more than a shadow sprawled on his floor, so he switches the lights on.
Five makes a pained noise, pressing his hands to his face.
Marcus relaxes at the knowledge that it’s not an intruder. Well, not one who’ll attack for no good reason, at least. “What are you doing here?” he asks, moving across to crouch down next to the boy.
He only gets a groan in return.
“How did you get here?” Marcus tries again. He twists to check the front door, but it’s firmly closed. It’s possible Five picked the lock then closed it behind him, but he doesn’t look in any state to be doing that. “Five?”
He nudges Five with his foot.
Another groan, then Five’s eyes open and he pushes up onto his elbows. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes.
Marcus studies him for a moment – the tension in every single muscle, the pained twist of his mouth, the deep furrows on his brow – and ask, “What happened?”
“Well—” Five shoves to his feet, staggers a bit. “—good question.” He rolls his shoulders with a grunt, then shakes his hands out. “I just proved a hypothesis.”
“Did you teleport?”
“I—” Five pauses. Turns to give Marcus a scrutinizing look. “—did. How did you know?”
Marcus crosses his arms over his chest. “The door’s locked, I live on the seventeenth floor, your people are starting to get their powers back…”
“Right.” Five rubs at the muscles on the back of his neck with a grimace. He limps over to Marcus’ kitchen, where he glares at the countertop until Marcus tells him which cupboard the coffee machine is in.
“How did you do it?” Marcus asks, curious, moving to lean against the kitchen counter while Five directs several insults towards whoever decided to put a coffee machine in a cupboard.
“Do what?” Five asks.
“Teleport,” Marcus says. “Last I checked, that incident with Klaus was a one-off; you’ve had neither sight nor sound of your powers since.”
“Klaus’ powers returned when he was in a life or death situation. Death, in his case. He’d be a rotting corpse—” Five’s expression shifts minutely as he says this, the skin around his mouth pinching slightly. “—by now if his powers hadn’t made an appearance. I put myself in a similar situation, which jumpstarted my powers into working again.”
Marcus says, “You threw yourself into traffic?”
“A subway train,” Five corrects absently as he pulls his finished cup of coffee from the machine and downs it in one go.
Blinking as he registers this information, Marcus makes a non-committal noise.
From his pocket, Five pulls a squashed sandwich wrapped in cling film. He unwraps it, tosses the cling film onto the counter, then takes a large bite out of it.
Marcus leaves Five to it, heading for the phone on a side table. He dials the number for the Hargreeves’ apartment. Unsurprisingly, no one picks up at this time of night, so he rings again. This time, someone does answer.
“Hello?” Viktor’s voice says, sound half-asleep. “Who is it?”
“It’s Marcus.”
“Oh, Marcus.” The sound of a yawn. “What is it, what’s wrong?”
“Five’s at my apartment,” Marcus says.
Viktor makes a surprised noise. “He is?”
“He used his powers to get here,” Marcus continues, keeping his voice even.
A harsh intake of breath. When Viktor next speaks, he’s far more alert. “Shit. Really?”
Marcus turns to look at Five, who is devouring his sandwich like his life depends on it. “You should get over here.”
“Why?” Viktor asks. “Is he okay? Did something happen?”
“He used an…” Marcus searches for the right words. “…unorthodox method to trigger his powers.”
There’s a faint Jesus from the other end of the line. Then Viktor blows out a breath, and says, “Yeah, okay. I’ll… I’ll come get him.”
“Do you have my address?” Marcus asks.
“Five didn’t exactly share it,” Viktor says, a wryness to the words.
Marcus tells him, then says to get the nightguard to call the apartment, because they won’t let anyone up without a keycard at this time of night.
He hangs up, then looks back to the kitchen, where Five is rifling through the cupboards, a deep frown on his face.
“What are you looking for?” Marcus says, slightly wary.
“Food,” Five answers shortly.
“In the fridge.”
Marcus stays back, keeping a careful eye on Five as he rummages through the fridge, tossing random foodstuff onto the countertop. Once he’s accumulated a pile, Five collectively carries it over to Marcus’ dining table and starts eating.
It takes Viktor some effort to find Marcus’ apartment building, and then he spends several minutes negotiating with the doorman to let him up. Once the doorman calls Marcus’ apartment, though, it’s smooth sailing, and Viktor is able to take the elevator up.
He knocks on the door, waits a few seconds as footsteps sound, then is greeted by Marcus, his expression impassive.
“Sorry, it took me a while,” Viktor says.
“I’m just lucky he hasn’t eaten all of my food,” Marcus answers dryly.
He steps back, and Viktor moves further into the apartment – the very nice apartment, god – to find Five sat, crunching loudly on a breadstick.
“Teleporting makes him hungry,” Viktor answers distractedly as he heads across (the large space) to Five. “—Marcus said you teleported?”
Five glances up in brief acknowledgment, then starts on his next breadstick.
“Five?” Viktor asks again.
“Marcus,” Five says, “is correct. It was an uncontrolled jump, but a jump nonetheless.”
Viktor spends a while processing this, then quietly – so quietly, because he’s scared to know the answer – asks, “Did you jump off something again?”
Five pauses. A shadow passes across his face, there and gone so quickly Viktor isn’t sure he didn’t imagine it. “…No,” Five answers slowly. “I…didn’t. It just—happened.”
“Okay,” Viktor says. “Well. This happened, like, less than half a day after we found out Dad’s probably having us followed, so I’m just saying it wouldn’t surprise me if you—”
“I didn’t do anything,” Five says, sharper this time. He drops the packet of breadsticks onto the table, then pushes to his feet. The motion is rough, and he wobbles once he’s standing. “We should get home.”
Viktor studies him for several moments more, worried. Then, sighing, he nods. “I’m not the one who called me out in the middle of the night.”
“I didn’t call you in the middle of the night,” Five counters, his tone brisk as he stalks past Viktor and towards the door.
Viktor follows him, catches sight of the careful blankness of Marcus’ face. Isn’t sure what it means but doesn’t like the implication. Instead of contesting, though – this day has been far too long – Viktor just quietly thanks him, apologizes for how much of his food Five has eaten, then follows Five out of the door.
“A little birdy—” Klaus starts, brightly and cheerfully, and Five groans, pressing his hands to his face.
“Go away, Klaus.”
“—told me,” Klaus continues on, sliding into the seat next to Five’s, “that someone managed to teleport last night.”
“Go away,” Five says again, muffled this time.
“Soooooooo…?”
Five makes an irritated noise. “So what?”
Klaus leans in close, his voice dropping. “How’d you do it?”
Five makes an irritated noise. Pulls his hands away from his face. Leans back in his chair to stare at the ceiling.
“How did you do it?” Klaus asks, dragging out the ‘do’.
“None of your business,” Five says. He gets to his feet and moves into the kitchen, where he starts making his packed lunch. Klaus follows him and starts a chant of ‘how’d you do it, how’d you do it’. Five ignores him.
“Do what?” a groggy voice asks, and Five glances around to see Luther stumble into the room, dressed only in a dressing gown.
“Ooh, what happened to you?” Klaus asks.
“Nothing,” Luther says, shooting him a confused look. “I didn’t sleep very well,” he concedes after a brief staring match. “What did Five do?” he asks.
“Oh, not much,” Klaus starts in a casual, dismissive tone, “he just teleported.”
Luther’s eyebrows skyrocket. “He—what?”
“Te-le-por-ted,” Klaus repeats.
Giving him an unimpressed look, Luther says, “I knew what you meant.”
“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t sure, what with your response and everything,” Klaus says, grinning.
Luther pulls a face at Klaus, who blows him a kiss in return, then turns to Five. “You teleported?”
“Yes,” Five says, short and restrained, “I did.” He shoves his packed lunch into his school bag, pulls his jacket on, then slings the bag over his shoulder and makes for the door. Before he can make it out, and to safety, Luther hurries into his path, blocking his way.
“Hold on, you can’t just leave it like that,” Luther says, looking deeply offended and shocked.
Five tries to reach for his power, like he’s been trying ever since the miracle this morning, but finds nothing. Irritated, he says, “Watch me,” then steps past Luther and out of the door.
Luther follows him out into the dingy hallway, greets their neighbor Ms. Holloway awkwardly, then grabs Five by the arm.
Five huffs a sharp noise. “What?”
Low and hissed, Luther says, “You can’t just—what happened? You actually got your power back?”
“No, I sprinted halfway across the city in two seconds,” Five responds, his voice dripping with derision. “Yes, you moron. I got my power back. So did Klaus,” he reminds Luther, pointedly widening his eyes. “So go pester him, I have stuff to do.” With that, he yanks his arm out of Luther’s grip and stalks off down the stairs, hoisting his backpack over his other shoulder. This time, Luther lets him go.
Today on the way to the school, there’s someone following him as well. Five can’t tell whether it’s the same person Viktor saw the day before, but they’re not hiding it well; dressed in all black; the buzz-cut of recently ex-military; large sunglasses and a baseball cap hiding his identity from cameras. A threat, if Five had to guess. Reginald wanting to warn them that he’s keeping an eye out. And Five may have regained some ability to teleport but he’s in no condition to fight an opponent with training.
They stop a hundred or so feet from the school gates, tracking Five as he heads across the playground. When he gets out at the end of the day, they’re still there. A predatory angle to their head, to their every movement, they follow him two blocks to the subway then disappear.
Five doesn’t like it.