simplykhalasi

[simplykhalasi]

(some)body heard him, dead man walking [masterlist]

ao3

disclaimer: i do not own, in any way, 'the umbrella academy', any of its characters or the show dialogues.

a/n: did not expect this to be so long. originally, it was just supposed to be five discovering klaus alive in the apocalypse, but i just couldn't help myself. you can find me on ao3 under the same username :))

chapter one: alone

summary: ash and smoke populated the sky, overpowering five's senses until it was all that he could see, smell, touch and taste. and the silence. the absolute absence of noise, save for the occasional crackle of the murderous fires. not a single sound permeated the still air, new york – the city that never sleeps – devoid of all living beings. 

chapter two: the girl on the bicycle

summary: “oh my god, oh my god…” klaus mumbled, feeling woozy. then he remembered who he was talking to. “oh my god, are you God?”

chapter three: dead man walking

summary: five could feel his breaths leaving him in a panic, the tears dripping before he could stop them. he didn’t believe it, he refused to believe it; how could the lifeless bodies spread out like ragdolls be his siblings?

a/n: this is one of my first short stories so please do let me know what you think & feel free to give me feedback! thank you for reading <33

[simplykhalasi]

(some)body heard him, dead man walking

dead man walking

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | masterlist | ao3

disclaimer: i do not own, in any way, 'the umbrella academy', any of its characters or the show dialogues.

loads of angst in this chapter hahah. but also, this is the final chapter yay! enjoy!!

summary: five could feel his breaths leaving him in a panic, the tears dripping before he could stop them. he didn’t believe it, he refused to believe it; how could the lifeless bodies spread out like ragdolls be his siblings?

Day #1: 2019, Timeline #31296, The Apocalypse [01/04/2019] 

Five lost track of time as he knelt before the ruins of his home – not that he had any way of measuring it before. He had a watch (a gift from Vanya) on his wrist, sure, but it didn’t work. The first time he’d portalled with it, the expensive Rolex’s hands had ended up winding at a blurring intensity. By the end of the morning, a thin line of smoke was emerging from it. 

Five still didn’t stop wearing it though. As he looked down at it, dirt clumping on his eyelashes, Five wondered whether the watch would be the first and last reminder he’d have of Vanya – of his siblings, of home – in this godforsaken future. 

That last thought reminded him of some sappy, waste-of-time movie that Klaus had dragged them all to the theatre to watch last year. Right, Five thought slowly, moving away from his self-pitying thoughts. Time to get up and stop wallowing in grief. He was a Hargreeves, he was a trained hero and he didn’t have time for this. 

Clenching his teeth at the pain in his knees as he stood, Five surveyed his surroundings – hardly any change at all. It felt like Five had all the time in the world.  “Okay,” Five said aloud ( he wasn’t going insane, he just needed to talk to someone ). “Let me rephrase: I’m a Hargreeves, I’m a trained hero and I’m going to find a way out of this.”

Twenty metres ahead, Klaus Hargreeves took his first breath.

Day #1: 2019, Timeline #31296, The Apocalypse [01/04/2019] 

Five walked ahead, slowly surveilling his surroundings like he’d been trained to. Once he saw something, he remembered. Before allowing him to portal from place to place, Reginald had forced Five to develop a near-eidetic memory. 

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

1995, Timeline #31296, The Academy [06/10/1995] 

“Now, Number Five,” Reginald said, tapping his cane impatiently. “Sit down.”

Six-year-old Five sat down obediently at the desk in front of him. It was a complete mess of knives and pistols. Shooting a quick glance at his father, Five wondered how Mom forgot to clean it up. Did Dad expect him to do something? Was it punishment for borrowing one of Ben’s Famous Five books? He just wanted to see if someone was named after him, that’s it!

Five’s breathing started to come a little faster. He didn’t know what Dad did when he punished them, but he knew it wasn’t good – Number Four had come back shaking from whatever Dad did to him yesterday, just for mouthing off a little. 

“Dad,” Five said in a small voice. “Dad, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again–”

“You’re certainly right about that! Fiction? I expected better from you Number Five.” The words were as sharp as they always were. “However,” Sir Reginald continued. “That is not the purpose of your training today. Look at the desk, Number Five.”

Five did as he was told, thankful that his flinch was hidden by the fact that Reginald was standing behind him. The knives glinted menacingly in the unforgiving white light, and the pistols’ triggers – safety off – looked dangerously easy to pull. 

“You will have five minutes,” Reginald announced, adjusting his wristwatch. “To observe the objects on this table. Following this, you will be blindfolded and expected to distribute the knives and pistols into separate bags.”

Five’s blood ran cold.

Reginald gestured at the two sacks attached to the desk. “The one on the right is for the knives, and the other for the pistols. Do you understand me, Number Five?”

Five nodded mutely. Despite his throat feeling too dry to speak, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Why? What is the purpose of this, Dad?”

Reginald raised an eyebrow at him. Five cringed at himself – how could he have forgotten to hide the little lisp in 'purpose'? He clenched his hands in his lap. 

“The purpose , Number Five,” Reginald said, emphasising the ‘s’ sound. “Is to prepare you for portalling to any location at any time. Without being able to appropriately visualise, you will never be able to reach your intended location.”

Five nodded again. At least that made a little sense. But why the knives and pistols? He could just easily do the same thing with toys…or books!

“The choice in objects,” Reginald said, anticipating his next question, “Has been deliberate. A little extra incentive to remember, if you will.” His eyes were as cold as ice as he said this, and Five felt like a butterfly pinned under his gaze. 

“Your time starts now.” 

Tick , the timer said mockingly.

That day, Five left the room with a cut so deep it nearly detached his thumb. Reginald made him return the next day, the day after that and the day after that, until Five could do it without a single wound on his hands. 

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

Day #1: 2019, Timeline #31296, The Apocalypse [01/04/2019] 

Sparing a short glance for the numerous scars decorating his hands and wrists, Five pulled his sleeves down further. No need for unwanted reminders in this highly unwanted situation. He was on the lookout for people, for someone who had survived this apocalypse. 

There were eight billion people in this world – surely someone in New York City would have survived? Yet, as the minutes passed, Five felt his hope dwindling. All he could see, even in the distance, was the remains of tall skyscrapers, skeleton structures, and those endless fires. 

That was when he saw the hand, the hand clenching something out of the rubble. Distantly, Five realised that he had started running, skidding over the loose rocks and bricks. As he dropped down to kneel in front of the hand, Five choked back his disgust when he realised that it was an eyeball . 

An eyeball covered in blood, blood so fresh that it was dripping in his hands. It must have been pulled out of someone’s head , Five thought remotely, brutally because there was still flesh attached to it. But who had been holding the eye? 

Five stood up slowly, heart beating faster and faster at the prospect of finding someone in this apocalypse. Leaning over, Five felt shock slam into him as he was overtaken by the feeling of knowing the man who no longer breathed below the rubble, but not being able to remember from where . 

Of course, Luther would have grown up to be as big as the body next to him but… There was no way it was one of his siblings , Five thought, slightly sickened. Because if one was here, then the others would be too, right? And Five hadn’t seen anyone. And yet, he found himself searching his surroundings, eyes scanning frantically. 

He almost missed the second body, so covered in dust it was. Clutching the eye in his hand, Five felt a deep sense of fear ease its way into his bones. The tears he thought he was out of began to burn behind his eyes again. 

Suddenly running again, Five felt nausea rise up into his throat as he saw the second man also very dead. Dead, and dressed in a skintight suit with knives decorating his back. Stumbling backwards, he shook his head in disbelief. It wasn’t, it wasn’t Diego . 

And yet the bodies kept piling up . The woman lying on her back, her hair was just like Allison’s . Her eyes were shut like she was sleeping, and Five almost believed it, save for the complete stillness of her chest. 

Five could feel his breaths leaving him in a panic, the tears dripping before he could stop them. He didn’t believe it, he refused to believe it; how could the lifeless bodies spread out like ragdolls be his siblings?

“No, no, no,” he mumbled, fumbling to put the eye in his pocket. It could wait until later. “You aren’t dead, you aren’t.”

Grabbing a hold of Diego’s shoulders, Five shook him roughly. He knew what a bitch Diego could be about waking up, that was all this was. 

“Dammit Diego,” Five said, voice cracking. “Diego, please , just wake up !”

Diego continued to lie lifelessly, eyes still closed. Well , Five thought furiously, he still had three more siblings. They weren’t dead, he just knew it. 

Standing up with determination, Five went ahead. Klaus and Ben must be nearby somewhere, they never were the type to stray too far from the group. Stomping furiously on the stones below his feet, Five ignored the grief trying to crawl its way up his throat. 

Nobody was fucking dead, he thought, wiping his tears harshly. Nobody, and he was going to prove it and everything was going to be fine–

Somehow, despite all that Dad did to him, Klaus was always full of life. No matter how stupid, no matter how uncalled (but yet, absolutely needed) for, he always had a joke to share. 

It hit Five like a sledgehammer to see his brother’s body lying limply on a bed of bricks. The Umbrella Academy tattoo stood out so starkly on his paler-than-normal skin, only serving as a reminder to Five of all that he had lost. 

Letting out a broken sob, Five shut his eyes, missing the slight rise and fall of Klaus��� chest. He did notice, however, when his brother’s body rolled suddenly, all of its own accord. 

Five’s heart damn near stopped beating when he heard a rasp but oh-so-familiar voice rasp out, “Ben? Diego? Are you there?”

Suddenly, Five was scampering over the stones, nearly tripping over himself and holy shit Klaus’ eyes were open and looking at him and he was breathing . 

“ Five? ” Klaus sounded just as shocked to see Five.  “Is that you?”

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

Day #2: 2019, Timeline #31296, The Apocalypse [02/04/2019] 

Klaus felt like his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. Both literally and figuratively – maybe jolting up at once wasn’t such a great idea. “Woah,” he said woozily, feeling the blood rush from his head. “Just give me a moment.”

Five – thirteen-year-old Five – still hadn’t said anything, his face completely bloodless. “Alright,” Klaus said, feeling like maybe he should take charge of the situation. He was, technically, the adult here (or so it seemed). “Let’s just start with how are you here ? Where have you been? Five–”

Klaus was abruptly cut off by a weight slamming into him, completely latching on. Arms had wrapped themselves around Klaus so tightly that he could feel his lungs constricting and his newly-mended bones protesting. 

It took him more than a few seconds to realise that Five, Five who refused to even touch anyone on some days, was hugging him . Suffocating more than hugging, but Klaus would give him that because the poor boy was crying into his shoulders. 

Still, the pain proved to be too much and Klaus let out a slight noise. 

The weight on him was gone in a flash. Small hands grabbed his wrists roughly, pressing into his pulse points with an almost bruising force. Then they clutched onto his throat in what Klaus thought was a frantic search for his heartbeat. 

“How are you alive?” Five said, eyes flinty and hard. Now that was more like the Five Klaus knew. “I just saw you, I saw you dead .”

“I’m fine,” Klaus said automatically. Apparently this was the wrong thing to say because Five gave him one of his dirtiest looks. Klaus huffed out a laugh, it was funny how the look was so familiar even after all these years. 

“You,” Five hissed, “Like the others, were literally fucking crushed to death, two minutes ago . What changed? Is this one of your powers?”

But Klaus wasn’t listening. “Like the others?” he echoed, heart beating faintly. On some level…he knew. He knew his siblings wouldn’t have survived this. After all, they weren’t like him (even though he’d just realised his ‘power’). And yet, to hear it being said, to realise that Five who hadn’t seen them in years , had to discover their bodies…Klaus’ hope – his stupid, stupid hope – flickered and died. 

Five snapped his mouth shut, looking like a deer caught in headlights for the flash of a second. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to say that,” he muttered, eyes glassy again. “It just slipped out.”

Klaus let out a mirthless little laugh. Seven little monkeys jumping on a bed, five fell off and bumped their heads. Mama called the doctor and the doctor said, "Well, those monkeys...they're dead!" Wasn’t that a nursery rhyme? “Don’t worry about it, little bro. I already knew they wouldn’t have made it. There was no way they would have.”

Five flinched. It was barely there, but Klaus had hidden enough of his own reactions to recognise it. Shit. Time to deflect - Klaus was a master at it. Ignoring the burning in his eyes, he went on, “But anyways, before we get into that, tell me about you! Where have you been, mi hermano ?”

Klaus shot him a bright smile, hoping to ease some of the grief that had fallen over them like the smoke falling over the once-blue sky. It wavered a little when Five only tensed up more. 

“I just came here. It was already like this when I came. The Academy, completely destroyed. Luther, Diego, Allison…” Five struggled for a few seconds before he finally spat it out. “Dead. Crushed. Like you.” 

Five gave him an expectant look, the question clear on his face: What happened?

Klaus sighed long-sufferingly and dramatically, at odds with his heart clenching in pain, reminded of his last moments. Settling himself into a more comfortable position, he turned to Five and held one of his hands like he was delivering bad news. 

Which, Klaus supposed, he was in a way. Conversationally, he began.

“Did you know Vanya had powers?” 

[simplykhalasi]

(some)body heard him, dead man walking

the girl on the bicycle

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | masterlist | ao3

disclaimer: i do not own, in any way, 'the umbrella academy', any of its characters or the show dialogues.

i used some of the lines from klaus and god's first interaction because it helped structure the scene. definitely had fun writing this chapter. enjoy!

summary: “oh my god, oh my god…” klaus mumbled, feeling woozy. then he remembered who he was talking to. “oh my god, are you God?”

Year Unknown, Timeline Unknown, Location Untraceable [ERROR] 

When Klaus opened his eyes, he found himself in a forest. Something was…wrong, but he couldn’t place his finger on what . Mostly because he had more pressing concerns. Like, the massive ache in his bones. 

Klaus groaned. What the hell did he get up to last night? His entire body felt like one giant bruise. Even blinking his eyes against the bright sunlight felt like someone was relentlessly prodding (borderline stabbing) him with their fingers. 

A bird chirped cheerfully nearby. Klaus mentally pleaded it to shut up. Don’t worry little birdie, he cares about nature and the environment and all that save the world nonsense, but right now just was not the moment. Klaus had bigger priorities.

Wait a minute. Save the world? Holy shit, save the world . Vanya. Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck. How could Klaus have forgotten? 

Ignoring the searing pain in his body, Klaus dragged himself up into a sitting position, head swinging wildly. “Ben?” He yelled loudly, “Ben, where are you? Where’s Vanya? Guys?”

“They aren’t here.” A little girl in a big hat stood – or rather sat – next to Klaus, on her bicycle. “Almost didn’t see you with the way you just popped in the middle of the path.”

“Oh, hello,” Klaus said, relieved to find another person in this…wherever he was. “Where am I?”

The girl continued on as if he hadn’t said anything. “You blend right in around here. So pale.”

It was at this moment that Klaus noticed everything in this weird dream (or nightmare) was black and white. How odd. It wasn’t as if he particularly enjoyed black-and-white movies. Anything after the 1960s really (until colour movies came, of course).

Nonetheless, never let it be said that dear old Reginald Hargreeves raised Klaus to be a mannerless lout. Klaus nodded politely in response. “Definitely. Ben keeps on telling it’s because I spend way too much time–”

“Where do you think you are?” The girl interrupted, ignoring Klaus again . Gosh, what was it with this girl? Klaus chuckled to himself at the thought of what Dad would think of her. He turned to Ben to to roll his eyes–

Oh right. He wasn’t here. No one was here. So then what was Klaus doing here?

“I said,” The girl repeated, sounding annoyed. “Where do you think you are, pale boy?” Klaus looked at her blankly, and she tapped her foot impatiently. 

“I’m not sure,” he breathed. “In a dream, maybe? I don’t know how though because Vanya and her psychotic boyfriend were yelling at us.”

The girl just looked at Klaus, wrinkling her nose as if he was being stupid. Klaus made a mental note to contact someone in charge of the world records because truly , the number of times this look had been directed at him was astronomical.  

“And?” She said expectantly, standing unnaturally still for a child. Was she even a child?

Klaus strained his mind to think back. All he could remember was a lot of yelling (from everyone, but mostly Allison and Luther) and crying (from Vanya and again, Allison). It’s not like he was particularly sober while everything was happening, so it was just muddled in his head. 

From what he remembered though, the situation just went downhill from there. Vanya turned out to have superpowers ( Superpowers? Sweet little Vanya? Klaus still couldn’t believe it.) and they were probably tuned into her emotions or something because when she went absolutely ballistic her eyes glowed and holy fucking shit she killed him . 

Klaus gasped loudly, loud enough that the…mini- god in front of him gave him a look. Never mind that, all Klaus could remember was the intense agony that he felt as Vanya’s sound wave shoved him against the nearest building and literally crushed him to death. 

“Oh my god, oh my god…” he mumbled, feeling woozy. Then he remembered who he was talking to. “Oh my god, are you God ?”

God , once again, ignored him and instead, was peering at his skin. “They don’t have any sun down there?” 

“Down there? As in, like, Earth?” Klaus said, disbelieving. There was no way this was happening “I’m agnostic, how is this happening?"

“Doesn’t really matter.” The little girl – Klaus was just going to call her that, for now – said. “For now, you can’t stay here. You need to go back.” 

“Why not? Why do I have to go back?” What would be waiting for him? All of his siblings were dead.

“To be blunt, I don’t really like you that much.” Ouch, but really, was she wrong?

“Me neither,” Klaus said. “But you’re supposed to love all of us, right? Isn’t that how this works?”

The girl scoffed. “Where’d you get that idea?” 

When Klaus opened his mouth, she gave him a warning look. “Time is flying, pale boy. You have to go back. He’s waiting for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Klaus said, feeling the beginnings of laughter because what? Him, alone on Earth?. “There’s no one left . Everyone’s dead. The world literally ended .” 

Klaus felt like maybe that was the wrong thing to say because suddenly, the little girl looked a lot more like the god she was. If Ben was here, he'd have probably shook his head disparagingly (You don't make God, of all people, angry Klaus).

“You’ve forgotten, Klaus,” she said, voice grave. “Humanity is but a blink of time for this planet. The Earth did not start with humanity, nor will it end when humanity does. Civilisations rise and fall, and this is just one of them.”

She looked like she was going to say more, but Klaus was distracted by the sudden tugging in his navel. It was a weirdly… ticklish feeling. Like something Mom would do to cheer him up when he came back from the mausoleum after days and days of spirits torturing him. 

The sound of cycle spokes spinning caught Klaus’ attention. The girl was already cycling away from him. “Go,” she said. “I don’t have a doubt that I’ll be seeing you again, pale boy. Maybe next time you’ll be better educated.” 

That was the last thing Klaus heard as the tug became a pull and dragged him away from the odd little black-and-white world he’d been becoming accustomed to. 

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

2019, Timeline #31296, The Apocalypse [01/04/2019] 

The second time Klaus woke up, it was much like the first. Body ache, nausea, extreme pain – but without the pleasant coolness of the forest. Instead, all Klaus could feel was the oppressive texture of smoke and the heavy fall of something ashy on his back. 

That was when the bones under his skin started moving – literally . Klaus swallowed back a muted scream as his bones snapped back into place, rearranging themselves from the literal pieces they had been reduced to. 

Bile rose in his throat, and it was all that Klaus could do to stop himself from blacking out again. Until suddenly, the pain was gone and he felt as good as new. 

Groaning loudly, Klaus rolled himself onto his back, ignoring the feeling of rubble digging into his skin. He was simply too weak (dear Dad would probably be scandalised if he knew that) and fragile to get up. 

The sky – if it could even be called that – was clouded in grey, the grey of smoke and ash. It dropped down from the high heavens (where Klaus had probably just been). 

“Ben?” Klaus called out hoarsely. His vocal cords felt like someone had sliced through them. “Diego? Are you there?” He couldn’t think of anyone else who would be ‘waiting’ for him. 

Suddenly, a face long-gone (yet so familiar) was peering at Klaus from above him. There was no way… Klaus squinted his eyes and pinched himself to make sure what he was seeing was real. 

There was absolutely no way in this whole wide world that Number Five , of all people, was looking at Klaus like he was a ghost risen from the dead ( wasn’t he though? ), face streaked in dirt and were those tear tracks?

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

2002, Timeline #31296, The Morning Number Five Leaves [11/11/2002]

Dad looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm, thought Number Four. Previously half-asleep in his breakfast, he had perked up when Number Five went to challenge Reginald. 

It wasn’t every day that the great Sir Reginald was questioned. Klaus was enjoying it - this was the most fun they'd had in weeks! Sure, it got tense when Five stormed out, but he does that too often for Klaus to care. In fact, Klaus was borderline grinning as he ate his breakfast.

Right up until the moment he felt a tug is his navel (ticklish, like something Mom would do) and suddenly, Number Four disappeared in a flash of light, his knife and fork clattering into the empty space where he was sitting.

[simplykhalasi]

(some)body heard him, dead man walking

alone

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | masterlist | ao3

disclaimer: i do not own, in any way, 'the umbrella academy', any of its characters or the show dialogues.

this first chapter is just five, because my poor baby suffered and the show did not show it enough. enjoy!!

summary: ash and smoke populated the sky, overpowering five's senses until it was all that he could see, smell, touch and taste. and the silence. the absolute absence of noise, save for the occasional crackle of the murderous fires. not a single sound permeated the still air, new york – the city that never sleeps – devoid of all living beings. 

2002, Timeline #31296, The Morning Number Five Leaves [11/11/2002]

Five sucked in air loudly as he exited the blinding blue light of his portal. Blood pumping at an unnatural speed, he felt his lips curling up as exhilaration lit him up from the inside out. Ha! That’ll prove Dad wrong. So much for being an acorn. He was perfectly fine, and perfectly able to jump from one second to another. 

Taking in his surroundings, Five was pleased to know that he had jumped a season ahead, far away from the dreary clouds of his current time. The New Yorkers were largely the same; pushing, shoving and in a hurry to get to their destinations. 

Jumping again, Five rolled his eyes as he realised he’d landed in the winter. He hated winter and everything to do with the season. It was dark, gloomy and worst of all, Christmas . Five couldn’t stand that overly commercialised, absolutely performative so-called festival. 

Time to leave, or time to go back?

Perhaps he could push himself a little more, Five thought, wondering just how far he could go. It wasn’t as if his energy reserves were too depleted – he’d have just enough to go back home. Feeling the power curling around his fists, Five spared one last disgusted glance for his surroundings before he was sucked into the fabric of space and time. 

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

Year Unknown, Timeline Unknown, Space-Time Continuum [ERROR] 

The first two times he time-travelled, Five was ashamed to admit that he was too scared to open his eyes. This time, however, he had no qualms. Shielding his eyes from the incessant light, Five was disappointed to see that nothing was visible beyond the endless expanse of blue . 

Of course, this only lasted until a flash of lightning struck next to Five, far too close for comfort. Sparks landed on his uniform and Five shuddered as he started to feel the portal press on his chest. This trip, although probably only a few seconds in total, was significantly longer than the last, he noted. 

Long enough that he had to start gasping for air as the oxygen was sucked out of his lungs. Shit, shit, shit , he thought. He hadn’t prepared for this; Dad didn’t even mention it! Five’s breaths were coming faster and faster now, vision swimming slightly. Fuck. 

Starting to choke, Five forced himself to think clearly. This was not how Sir Reginald had trained him; he was not a babbling baby who couldn’t handle his powers. What would his dad say? Get out of there! Five heard Reginald’s voice echoing in his head. Right. Onwards then. 

Ignoring the concerning tightness in his chest, Five rebelled against the portal with his thirteen-year-old might, forcing the coalescence of quantum particles, matter and light under his control. Unsurprisingly (or so Five told himself), the energy gave out and Five used the momentum to push himself ( finally, finally ) into the future.

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · · 

2019, Timeline #31296, The Apocalypse [01/04/2019]

The first thing Five did when the portal spat him out was take a heaving gasp, expecting sweet fresh air. Instead, he choked further as he felt ash, dust and rubble fill up the empty space in his lungs. 

It only took him a couple of seconds to recover, but that was enough for him to realise that something wasn’t right. Looking up, Five stumbled backwards at what he saw, his newly-gained air leaving him in a whoosh. 

The Academy . Or rather, what was left of it, as Five would come to think in later years. Horror and fear ate at Five. Fires – huge, enormous fires, bigger than Five had ever seen – leapt and devoured the manor, leaving only destruction and smoke in their wake. Bricks and rubble lay around in a mess, leaving only the bottom structure behind. The top of The Academy had been blown off . 

Ash and smoke populated the sky, overpowering Five’s senses until it was all that he could see, smell, touch and taste. And the silence . The absolute absence of noise, save for the occasional crackle of the murderous fires. Not a single sound permeated the still air, New York – the city that never sleeps – devoid of all living beings. 

Five could feel the panic welling up again. What was going on? Where had he landed? What happened to everyone? Terror simply couldn’t cover what Five felt in that moment; it was a bone-deep sense of dread and foreboding, the onset of the realisation that was fatally, terrifyingly, completely alone in this new reality. But he couldn’t be…right? 

One of his siblings would be around, Five thought resolutely as stepped in. They had powers, after all. Even if the general, ordinary population hadn’t survived this, surely one of them would have made it. Wasn’t this what they had been trained for? 

“Ben?” he called, he was one of the strongest, he had to be there. “Dad?”

No response. Nothing save for Five’s panicked heartbeat in his ears.

“ Anyone? ” Five’s voice echoed. Please let someone be there . 

Ignoring the suspicious burning behind his eyes (“Crying is a sign of weakness Number Five, do not forget.” ), Five called on his powers. But the usual rush of energy was absent. Come on, come on...all he hit was a solid wall. 

“Come on!” he yelled, please let him go home. His powers continued to resist, Five’s energy stores almost completely depleted. “ Shit .”

Dropping his hands listlessly, Five blinked rapidly so as to stop the tears from falling. Crying wouldn’t help. Crying wouldn’t bring him back home to his family. Crying would only make the ash burn in his eyes. Crying would make him weak . 

And yet, Five found himself dropping to his knees in front of what used to be his home. A single tear – the first in six years – slipped down his cheek. His knees ached from where he had fallen, blood no doubt already dripping.

The tears only continued to fall. The pain was the final nail in the coffin; what he saw was real, not some waking nightmare he was stuck in. 

As he sniffled, all Five could hear was Reginald’s imperious voice saying I told you so.

[simplykhalasi]

slip of the tongue

my first offering to this fandom. let me know what you think!

summary: never in a thousand years did merlin think the next few days would turn out to be such shitshows. 

word count: 2.3k

Never in a thousand years did Merlin think the next few days would turn out to be such shitshows. 

It all started out quite normal – or rather, what was normal for Merlin, with him being the manservant to the Crown Prince and all.  He woke up dark and early in the morning, so early that even those irritating birds weren’t chirping out of his window. 

Fucking Arthur, he had grumbled as he slid on his boots. Clotpole has to go on a hunt even before the sun’s awake. Dragging himself out of bed had been no easy feat, and it was only the prospect of Arthur coming and hunting Merlin down that convinced Merlin to leave his comfortable, warm room. 

Why couldn’t Arthur go hunting on his own? If he was such a prodigal shot, he shouldn’t need Merlin’s help for anything! Obviously, Merlin wouldn’t actually let Arthur go alone, but, really, it was the principle of it. 

By the time Merlin reached the stables, Arthur was already seated and ready to go. His familiar scowl was in place as he called out, “Come on Merlin, you blithering idiot. Could you be any slower?” 

Merlin simply rolled his eyes as he lugged himself onto his mare; it was far too early and too cold for this. As they rode out the gates of Camelot, however, Merlin’s sour mood lightened a bit when he saw Arthur’s anticipatory expression. He was very clearly excited about leaving the castle, and probably, Merlin mused, its occupants behind. 

The hunt itself was fine, enjoyable even. Merlin didn’t realise how much he’d missed his and Arthur’s banter until they had it again. 

“Truly Merlin,” Arthur was saying, eyes crinkling around the corners. “You shoot with the skill of a baby deer skidding on ice.” Had Merlin been even a slightly better shot, he would have felt offended, but was Arthur wrong? 

But of course, that didn’t stop him from retorting back. “You’re hardly one to talk, Sire–”

That was when the first arrow flew. Merlin’s mare reared backwards, throwing him off her with a dull thunk. Merlin’s pretty sure his ribs are going to be sorely bruised later. As he dragged himself up, Merlin’s heart started beating in double-time as he realised that Arthur was battling four bandits at once. And losing. 

Right. Time to even the grounds a bit. Still on his elbows, Merlin’s eyes flashed gold. Less than a second later, a branch conveniently fell on the bandit right about to slash at Arthur. Unsurprisingly, Arthur took care of the rest. 

The sound of thumping footsteps had Merlin quickly getting to his feet and making his way to Arthur. His magic sensed eight more people in their vicinity…now was probably the best time to escape. 

“We have five people about to replace these bandits,” Arthur said disgustedly, nudging the head of one of the unconscious ones with his boot. “Get on your horse Merlin, and hurry up with it!” 

“Actually,” Merlin said conversationally, looking around for his mare. “It’s more like eight–”

“Oh, my deepest apologies, Merlin. I’m sorry I wasn’t specific enough.” Arthur’s sarcasm would have made Merlin smile, even with the situation they were in, had he not spotted the arrow flying across the clearing, straight towards Arthur–

The last thing Merlin remembered before he went down was Arthur’s shout and his Sire’s terrified face hovering above his own. 

That brings Merlin to now. Head throbbing, shoulder aching, throat as dry as his sex life and having to endure Gauis’ poking and prodding. Clearly, Merlin’s weekly prayers to the magic gods for Arthur to not be a magnet for crazy bandits were for naught. 

“Merlin. Are you sure you’re alright?” Gaius’ eyebrow was raised in his typical fashion. “It is odd that the arrow caused no wound, and even odder still if the arrow was not meant for you, but for Arthur.” 

I’m fine, Gaius, is what Merlin wanted to say. Truly, apart from his throat feeling a little too dry, he was! What actually came out was, “My shoulder’s tingling – and not in a good way.” 

Merlin’s mouth snapped shut, his eyes wide with astonishment. Where did that come from? He certainly didn’t mean to say that. Gaius, however, took no notice of his surprise, instead renewing his focus on the spot where the arrow had hit Merlin. 

Maybe he was just more tired than he thought. There was no way the arrow had magic in it, right? If it did, he’d know. Merlin nodded to himself firmly. Yes, he was just tired and it was simply the aftereffects of being shot by an arrow (that didn’t even pierce him, but Merlin was choosing to ignore that for now). 

At last, Gaius sat back, his half-moon spectacles perched on his nose. “Well, my boy, I don’t see anything here now.” He sighed loudly, clearly irritated that he couldn’t find the source of Merlin’s discomfort. “I suppose you can go now.”

“But,” Gaius added sternly when Merlin got up to leave, “That doesn’t mean you don’t tell me when something is wrong. You come here immediately. Do you understand?”

Feeling an odd sensation rise up in his throat at Gaius’ question, Merlin gave his mentor his most innocent smile. “Perfectly. Absolutely crystal clear.” 

The next morning, Merlin made sure to enter Arthur’s chambers with a loud bang. “Rise and shine, sunshine!” He announced loudly, throwing open the curtains to the window. “You have a council meeting to get to in about an hour, then knights’ training and your father wants to see you…” 

Merlin turned around to shake Arthur, but was pleasantly surprised to find the man already up. Staring at Merlin. And…was that relief on his face? No…surely not. Yet, Merlin could not stop the butterflies from taking life in his stomach. 

“Something on my face, Sire?” he asked, giving Arthur an impish grin. “Or are you simply in awe of my dazzling face–”

His voice was abruptly cut off as Arthur launched himself and wrapped Merlin in the warmest, tightest hug he’d ever received. Immediately, Merlin’s heart started beating faster, even faster than when they were being attacked. Was this really happening?

So enchanted he was, it took Merlin a couple of seconds to realise that Arthur was speaking to him. “You cabbagehead,” Arthur was saying, still clutching onto Merlin’s waist. “Absolutely fucking lost it. Why would you do that? How could you just put yourself in front of me?”

Merlin pulled back a little, heart warming far too much as he noticed Arthur’s well-hidden-but-still-terrified expression. “Why Arthur,” he said with a confidence he didn’t feel, “Were you concerned for me?”

“Of course I was!” Arthur burst out, looking as if he hadn’t gotten a single wink of sleep. “How could I not be? You’re my best friend! I–” He cut himself off abruptly, turning away with his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

Immediately, Merlin felt bad for teasing him. “Hey, hey,” he said gently, tilting Arthur’s face to his own. “Arthur. Arthur. I’m fine. See?” He gestured to himself. “Not even a scratch on me. I promise.” 

Some of the tension bled out of Arthur’s shoulders. His face dropped a little closer to Merlin’s, so close that Merlin could feel the little tufts of air hitting his lips. From Arthur’s lips. If only they were a little closer…

Suddenly, a loud chirp sounded outside the window. And the moment was broken. Arthur and Merlin sprang back from each other, the latter feeling his cheeks burn hotter than the fire on a winter night. Gods, what was that? 

“Right,” Arthur said, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but Merlin. “Since you’re alright then, Merlin, you can go on with your usual chores.” Arthur sat down at his table, beginning to shove food into his mouth.

“And while you’re at it,” he added with a smirk, “You can polish my armour, muck out the stables, clean my room and sharpen my sword.” Merlin’s jaw dropped. 

In record time, Arthur finished his meal, got himself dressed (on his own!) and just as he was leaving, he turned to Merlin, seemingly back to normal. “All of this, by noon. Got it?”

Automatically, without him even realising, Merlin yelled out, “No, you lazy prat!” He ended up talking to a slammed door. Bloody wanker. 

If Hunith had been here to listen to Merlin cursing Arthur to the high heavens and back, she would have fainted from shock. Merlin, still fuming, stomped his way up to Arthur’s chambers, slamming the doors open. How on Earth was he supposed to clean Arthur’s stinky room and sharpen his sword? 

Hands on his hips, Merlin surveyed the messy room. Clothes lay flung around all about, muddy boots lay down in the corner and…was that a spider? Dear god, how did Arthur survive without Merlin? The room was spic and span when he left yesterday!

Right, well. Desperate times, desperate measures and all that. Letting his eyes flash gold, Merlin summoned the cleaning supplies he’d left earlier and got them started on cleaning up this pigsty. He, on the other hand, took a comfortable seat next to the window and got started on sharpening Arthur’s already-perfect sword. 

Humming lightly, Merlin almost didn’t hear Arthurs’ heavy footsteps. As soon as Arthur entered, the mop and bucket of water immediately dropped, falling into a heap. The man of the hour himself was looking around with a look that was nothing short of complete and utter amazement. 

Of course, he would never tell that to Merlin though. “Merlin,” Arthur said with his usual tone of prattiness. “It’s good to know you aren’t always a lazy arse. You haven’t been using magic to do your chores, have you?”

Merlin laughed. The irony was not lost on him. No, Sire, I would never. Instead, what came out was, “Of course I have, you dollophead. How else would I finish everything?” Merlin clapped his hand over his mouth in horror. His throat pulsed lightly, and a sickening realisation began to creep over him.

Thankfully, though, Arthur seemed to think he was going along with the joke. “Oh, really?” He said, looking at Merlin with humour. “Did you wave your hands and everything was all bright and shiny?”

No, no, no. Merlin resisted the urge to spit out the truth, his jaw aching with the effort to keep his mouth shut. Unfortunately, to no avail. “I wish,” he said, panicked. “But I did get the mop and bucket to do the work. Clæne.”

It just kept getting worse and worse. Immediately, the mop and bucket resumed their activities, dancing merrily about the room and completely oblivious to the sudden pin-drop silence in the air. 

“What,” Arthur asked, a dangerous tint to his words. “Exactly is going on?”

Merlin did the only thing he could do – he fled. 

Running at his fastest, nearly tripping over his feet, Merlin burst into Gaius’ chambers. “Gaius,” he yelled, panting. “Gaius! Where are you?”

“Merlin, my boy,” Gaius came rushing out from one of his long stacks. “Merlin. What happened? Are you alright?”

Merlin finally straightened. “No,” he whispered, tears burning behind his eyes. “No. Nothing is alright. Arthur knows! It–The arrow! It was a truth serum or something, I can’t lie–”

Gaius’ eyes widened. Moving faster than Merlin thought a man his age was capable of, he quickly locked the door and sat Merlin down. “Merlin, calm down. I understand you are panicking, but we cannot do anything unless you tell me what happened.”

It took a few minutes, but Merlin eventually calmed himself enough to explain what had transpired. “And now I can’t lie,” Merlin finished, slumping in his seat. “And Arthur knows, and he’s going to tell Uther and I’m going to be on the stake tomorrow–”

He was abruptly cut off by three sharp knocks on the door. “Merlin,” Arthur’s voice called sharply over the door. “Merlin, I know you’re in there. Let me in. I want to talk to you.” 

Merlin looked at Gaius pleadingly. “Merlin, if you don’t let me in right now, I will break this door down and–”

Miserably, Merlin waved his hand and the door unlocked. Why postpone the inevitable? It would only hurt more. Arthur stumbled in, eyes and hair wild. “You’re a sorcerer.” Merlin couldn’t tell whether it was a question or a statement. 

Arthur came to stand before Merlin, eyes hard. Yet, Merlin could see the pain, the hurt behind his eyes. “How long have you been practising magic? Why are you here? Have you been plotting against Camelot? Did you–”

Unbidden, Merlin’s mouth opened, and words poured out. He resisted the urge to tear his hair out. “I was born with magic,” Merlin said, interrupting Arthur’s tirade. “Before I was even three years old, I was floating things around, disappearing and reappearing. My mother sent me here so I could learn how to control my magic.”

Arthur’s mouth had snapped shut as soon as Merlin started speaking. Miserably, Merlin continued. “I haven’t been plotting against Camelot, Arthur. I’ve been saving it. You have to believe me,” He sent a pleading look in Arthur’s direction. “I’ve only used my magic for you. To save your life. Never to hurt you or Camelot.”

Arthur was looking at him as if he’d sprouted another head. He opened his mouth – no doubt, to ask another question – but Gaius interrupted him before that. “Sire,” he said. “If I may. You must know – Merlin is under the influence of a truth serum. What he is saying is nothing but the truth.” 

Before Arthur could even ask how, Merlin said,  “It was the arrow. The serum is magic. No matter what you ask, I have to answer with the truth.” 

Arthur looked at a loss for words. And yet, hope rekindled its flame in Merlin’s chest. If Arthur hadn’t called the castle guards, then perhaps…

Finally, Arthur sank down in a seat next to Merlin, his eyes softening slightly. “Tell me everything.”