Number Five (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
solipsistically) wrote2019-12-27 10:45 pm
solipsistically) wrote2019-12-27 10:45 pm
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You've reached Number Five. Leave a message or don't. I don't care.
You've reached Number Five. Leave a message or don't. I don't care.
You've reached Number Five. Leave a message or don't. I don't care.
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[It's an instant, knee-jerk, default response and he immediately remembers that... Five wasn't there, for the last eight months. He doesn't know.]
In the last place-- we were mostly there. When I first got there, all seven of us were there. Then Vanya disappeared. Then you-- a version of you-- whatever. Then Vanya showed up again, but didn't remember the first time she was there. So we had six of us.
And there were threats there, too. Things that the displaced there came together to take on and fight. And that's the thing... we weren't as out of sync as you'd think. Not us three. Luther, Allison, and me. In a fight, it was like slipping on an old glove, perfect fit.
[And there hasn't been enough time between these two universes for any kind of romanticized coloring of events to have taken place over his memories, it's just... the truth.]
I'm not an idiot, Five.
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[ But also...not really. Not that different. The only real difference is that Vanya is his sister and he loves her. He loves her maybe more than he loves the rest of them because when they were little, he always felt weirdly responsible for her in a way that none of the others seemed to, except for maybe Number Six now and again. He doesn't love these people; they're strangers to him. His siblings, sure, he'd never admit it but he'd die for them. But for the other Displaced? For the locals? He doesn't fight for people anymore unless they matter to him. None of these people matter to him. ]
Yes, you are, but that's not what I meant. I mostly meant just don't be too impulsive if you're going on your own. This guy seems pretty low-level and the worst I'm guessing is you'll end up doing something heinously embarrassing, but all the same. Just be careful.
And remember...you don't owe these people anything, Number Two.
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[He's not sure it was. And goddammit, he hates the fucking universe. Every single time he'd tried to start doing better with her, something came up. And wasn't it just fitting that the last time saw him shipped off to an entirely different universe, to boot?]
Fuck you.
I'll be fine.
We didn't owe people back home anything either
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[ Rolling his eyes to himself, Five shakes his head. Luther Junior over here wants to play the hero, that's on him. ]
No, but we were too young and stupid to know that.
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[Things are different, in Five's last memories than Diegos-- those months he wasn't around.... fuck this imbalance of time discrepancy is going to be annoying to deal with, isn't it?]
I guess.
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I couldn't give less of a shit about the people here if you paid me to try. I'm not fighting for them.
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[He's really just touchy because-- well, when isn't he? But especially on the topic of their sister, who he had spent the greater part of the last four or so months on the most precarious edge with. He hates how hard every inch of progress they made with each other was. He hates that was all ripped away from him by virtue of showing up here. He regrets not trying harder, and doing better with her, sooner, now. And he hates that there's no guarantee she'll remember a single ounce of it if she ever were to show up here.
But none of that really has anything to do with Five at all. He's just unwittingly managed to hit a sore spot and Diego, being Diego, reacted instantly.]
Right.
I get it.
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