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Simone blinks at Five. Five stares back, annoyed when he realizes he has to look up to meet her eyes.
“So, am I supposed to call you Uncle Five, or…?”
Five arches an eyebrow.
“If you want to fucking die, maybe,” he says, crossing his arms. “Five’ll do just fine.”
Simone arches an eyebrow right back.
“Y’know, I’m actually ten,” she says. “So you should maybe watch your swearing, maybe.”
Behind her, the younger brother muffles a giggle in the palm of his hand. Seeing as Five’s spent more than thirty seconds in their father’s presence, he thinks he gets the joke.
“That was almost funny,” he tells her. “Almost.”
Simone rolls her eyes at him, which is ballsy, in Five’s opinion. It almost makes him smile.
“Dad said Uncle Klaus said you were dead,” she says bluntly. “How come you’re alive and a fifth grader?”
“Time travel,” Five says. “I’m special like that.”
“We’re special, too,” the boy pipes up from behind his sister, grinning from under his mop of wild, unkempt curls. “Like our Dad.”
Five pauses. Now that’s very interesting.
“Really, now?” he asks, leaning back on his heels. “Somehow, I don’t believe you.”
Simone frowns at him.
“We are,” she says, sounding indignant. “We’re not immortal like Dad, but we can do stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Simone’s powers are boring,” Jamie says, nudging his way past his sister to talk to Five properly. His eyes are wide and bright with excitement as he grins up at his uncle. “But look what I can do!”
Before the last word’s completely out of his mouth, the little boy is swelling like a balloon, his skin going black before sprouting coarse, black fur as he bursts out of his clothes. His mouth and nose elongate, his teeth curving and sharpening into cruel points as his fingers and palms turn into long claws and paws as big as Luther’s head.
Five doesn’t realize he’s backing up until his head bounces off of Luther’s stomach. Startled, he can’t quite take his eyes off of the creature now standing where Jamie had stood, teeth bared in a grin that’s more terrifying than anything else as it rolls its shoulders and straightens, balanced on its haunches as it stares down at Five with flat, yellow eyes.
He’s a bear, Five realizes dimly, eyes wild as he tries to get a look at Luther’s face without taking his eyes off the surprise that’s now towering over them both. He’s a bear, and he’s got at least a foot on Luther, like this.
Speaking of, Luther doesn’t seem to know exactly what to do, either. He’s tense where Five’s touching him, though, muscles hard as he tries to work out whether to fight, or…
“That was wonderful, Jamie!” Klaus claps his hands together excitedly, stepping past Luther and Five to stand within reach of the bear. “How long can you keep it up?”
Jamie snaps his teeth, a high-pitched noise gurgling in the back of his throat.
“As long as he wants,” Simone says from beside him. “We think.” She reaches down to pick up a shred of her brother’s t-shirt. “The only problem is he keeps ruining his clothes.” She gives her brother a dark look as she speaks, like maybe this has been an ongoing argument between the pair of them.
Klaus snorts, his smile easier than Five’s ever seen it even with the addition of his little, biological brother to their little caravan. It makes his heart twist with sharp, unexpected envy.
“That’s alright, it’s not like we aren’t living in the world’s greatest clearance sale already,” he says, reaching out to ruffle her hair playfully as he moves closer to inspect her brother. “Get down here, Jamie, and let me have a look at you.”
The bear makes another little noise, dropping back down onto its front paws obligingly to nose at Klaus’ hair. Even on four legs, Jamie’s form is terrifyingly huge, his great, anvil-sized head level with Klaus’s shoulder, his shoulders twice the width of Luther’s.
Klaus doesn’t seem particularly worried, laughing when Jamie sticks his cold nose into his ear and snuffles wetly and burying his hands in the thick fur at his collar.
“Your Dad called me, of course, when Simone started showing signs— Jamie, stop that.” Klaus tugs gently at the bear’s ear until the long, pink tongue that’s appeared to groom him disappears back inside that toothy muzzle. “I didn’t realize it was both of you, though.”
There’s a beat, and Simone’s eyes drop.
“We didn’t know either,” she admits quietly. “But then our house fell down, and so did everybody else’s.”
… And there it is. Jamie’s head drops from where he’s balanced it on Klaus’ shoulder and he turns away, effectively leaving the conversation, and Klaus’ smile fades.
“Simone,” he says, voice going quiet and gentle in a way that actually is somewhat familiar, distant as the memory is to Five. “Simone, baby—”
She covers her face with a hand, the spread of her thin, dirty fingers not quite enough the blotchy redness of her face as she tries— and fails— not to cry.
Suddenly, Five feels like he’s intruding, but he finds he can’t bring himself to look away. Luther seems to be in a similar state, the shovel of a hand that had found its way to Five’s shoulder tightening painfully, grinding the bones together as the pressure builds.
Klaus doesn’t pay them any mind, letting out a sad little sigh before scooping the girl up in his arms.
“Hey, okay,” he murmurs soothingly, settling her weight easily despite the fact that she probably weighs more than Five does, big as she is. “Alright, baby, it’s alright.”
He cradles her head under his chin, hardly sparing his brothers a glance as he moves to follow her brother. By the looks of it, they’re aiming for the main tent, where Allison, Nathan, and the oldest of the Young children have holed up to handle the frankly concerning fever Nathan Junior seems to have developed.
“How come we didn’t know?”
Five looks up, the crown of his head brushing Luther’s stomach.
“That’s a dumb question,” Five says. “I wasn’t here, obviously.”
It’s probably not the best time to make a joke, judging by the way Luther’s jaw twitches. Quickly, Five extracts himself from his brother’s grip— better safe than sorry.
Anger snaps like lightning in Luther’s light eyes when Five looks at him again, now out of arm’s reach. Anger, and confusion, and— and hurt.
Ah. Five isn’t the only one who’s dealing with feelings, then.
“I…” He swallows, suddenly uncertain. “I really can’t say, Luther. Maybe you should ask him.”
Luther’s fist clench, and Five holds his tongue. I really can’t say, but I bet I can guess stays firmly locked behind his teeth.
“He hasn’t talked to me since we crossed into Indiana,” he says, nostrils flaring as he looks back towards the tent. “I— we— I don’t think he’s even looked at me, Five.”
Five watches his brother carefully. He did notice that, yes, but—
“Klaus pretty much only talked to Diego and Vanya until we found Nathan,” he says. “And he isn’t really talking to anybody now, either.”
That’s true, too. Besides the blip of the first few days following Nathan’s resurrection, Klaus has barely said a word to any of them, not since he informed them that he wanted to go to Vegas and they were welcome to come with him if they liked. Luther had seemed happy with Klaus’ newfound quiet, though. He’d made jokes about flies buzzing in his ears for days once he’d realized.
“I didn’t realize you minded,” Five says, cautious. “I thought—”
“You thought what?”
Five hesitates.
“Well,” he says, because fuck it, Luther’s not smart enough to kill him. “I thought you didn’t care.”
Pain spasms across Luther’s face, as if Five really had hit him. His shoulders hunch, his chin tucking into the open front of his grimy button-down shirt like he used to do when they were kids and their father was unhappy with them.
“Oh,” he says, his voice small. “Well, then.”
Five sighs.
“If he isn’t talking to you, you need to talk to him,” he says. “That’s how he worked when we were kids, and that’s probably how he works now.” Or not. Klaus is weird, now— or, weirder than he was— but as far as Five can tell, none of his brothers and sisters have changed all that much, even with twenty years of growing behind them.
Luther seems to think about this.
“You think it’ll help?” he asks, and Christ, he just looks so sad.
Five is done with this conversation.
“I don’t know,” he says, turning away. “Don’t hit him, and we’ll see.”
He doesn’t see Luther’s face, but he does hear the horrible little noise he makes at Five’s words.
Well, Five thinks, refusing to turn and look, it’s about time somebody’s said something, instead of just pretending it’s normal not to stand within three feet of their brother at all times. Klaus doesn’t care, Luther won’t listen to Vanya or Diego, and Allison’s too busy riding monkey dick to have a serious conversation—
Five makes a face at his thoughts, grimacing at the accidental reminder that, not only are his siblings boning, but one of them is a goddamn gorilla from the neck down...
No, no, not thinking about that. There are literally so many other, better things to be thinking about.
Like Klaus.
Clearly, the Seance knows more than he’s let on. Whether that’s because he was asked to keep secrets or if their siblings just didn’t care, Five isn’t sure, but it’s obvious they need to sit down and have a conversation sometime soon. A proper one, where Five somehow manages to cut through the mountains of bullshit that spew from his brother’s mouth normally to get to the good stuff, the stuff Klaus probably doesn’t even realize is important—
Ah, there’s the problem. Five catches the edge of his thoughts, frowning at himself as he thinks it over again. Why does he expect bullshit, when he’ll be lucky if Klaus bothers to meet his eyes before ignoring him in favor of Nathan and his children? Why does he assume Klaus doesn’t understand the secrets he might be keeping, when Klaus has proven at least three times in the past week that he knows what he’s doing, all by himself without any of them holding his hand or hovering?
Why are his thoughts so ugly, when they all chose to follow Klaus and actually found something— life, even?
"Shit," Five mutters, running his fingers through his greasy hair agitatedly. He feels— guilty, maybe? His stomach's churning, all of a sudden, and he feels cold, maybe a little sick. "This is a problem."