Dancing With Ghosts
Five x Male Reader
Reader uses he/they and Five is a trans man because I have no self control.
(Both TW-ings and regular warnings)
Gore, description of violence, violence, detached limbs, killing people, murder, murder with an axe, dancing on bodies, guilt (very mild. It's barely dived into, but still present), OOC Five Hargreeves, mood swings, possibly depressed Five Hargreeves, talking about killing carelessly, vomiting, swearing, dissociation
I swear this was supposed to be light hearted. It just kinda morphed into something sad. Hurt/comfort
"Sooooooo, " Y/N spoke, trailing behind Five with his hands in the pockets of his orange flowery skirt. "Where are we headed?"
"I'm headed to kill the board." It was a curt warning to back off and, in any other situation, Y/N would be happy for it. Right now though, he was bored (ha! Bored, like the board, the people they're going to kill) as hell and not in the mood to deal with the rest of the Hargreeves so he politely ignored it.
"Oh. Do you think it'll be an easy kill?"
"It would be if you would stop following me."
Y/N hummed, "You're not wearing your binder, right? Killing people equals a very fucked up exercise. You're not supposed to wear a binder while exercising so I hope you're not. "
Five scowled and ignored him, quickening his pace. He walked into the ally way and turned around to face Y/N.
"Listen, idiot. I'm going to kill the board and you're gonna stay here, got it?" Five's hands glow blue. He's ready to blink to the board meeting place (where is that at, anyways?).
Y/N scoffs but smiles as he says "You're such an asshole." At the last moment, Y/N grabs Five's arm and jumps with him. He pretends not to notice the irritated but expecting scowl on Five's face.
It's disorientating no matter how many times he blinks with Five. It feels like someone's pulling on all your limbs and shoving them into different directions before flattening you into a meat grinder. So no, it's not pleasant and no, you can't blame Y/N for puking.
Y/N looks up, grimacing while they shiver, and glances at Five. "This the place or did I fuck up your uh, thingey majigs."
"You mean my calculations? And yeah, this is the place." Five glances over, concern washing over his features. "You shouldn't have jumped with me. " He shrugs off his blazer and throws it at Y/N's head. They squawk, pull it down, and hold it to their chest.
"I absolutely did need to come with you! You would've been all weird and apathetic afterwards without me." They pause, "Plus blood stained white shoes look cool. I saw someone on instagram do it with paint, but the real deal's gotta be better!"
Five sighs and sarcastically adds, "Yeah, it's so cool to kill people now-a-days."
There's a silence as Five and Y/N walk into the building. "Now-a-days? Next-days? Time travel is confusing. "
Five shushes him.
The building, Y/N notices, is quite nice. It's not a place they'd ever seek out, far too loud and spacey for them (plus there's taxidermy), but they see the appeal. A woman, a curly red head in a white and green uniform, seemed to be reorganizing the sign (probably, Y/N really couldn't tell).
Five stepped forward, "Excuse me."
"Uff da!" She startled and Y/N tried (and failed miserably) to suppress a snort. "You snuck up on me there!" She's got a nice accent.
We really didn't, was on the tip of Y/N's tongue but they held back, far too amused by the encounter to interupt.
She looked at Five and Y/N for a moment and said "If you're looking for the cookies we don't put them out 'till three."
Y/N grinned, "I can hardly wait." They paused, "Do you perhaps know the uh, Soybean Society," the shoot Five an unsure smile, "meeting is? Where it is, I mean, I'm looking for my uncle."
"Sure do! They're at the Muskellunge Banquet Room."
She's nice, that's a relief. There a far too many people that are ass-hats to people they assume are kids (news flash, they aren't. 58 and 46 years old respectively, possibly older than half the rude idiots). Those people suck to deal with.
Five interrupts, "Can I get some change?" He's looking at something past the woman. Y/N realizes he's looking at a vending machine and they turn to him, puzzled. He hands her a wad of cash.
"Sure thing!" She takes it, smiling and reaches down for her purse.
In the end, they do get the change and Five tries to get a candy bar. It doesn't give it to him and he beats the machine ("what if that was related to Grace, Five! What then??" "It's a vending machine.") to a shattered pulp before ruining a perfectly good cake. A perfectly good cake! After Five drags his dirty finger across the side, he grabs an axe.
"And what I am to kill with?? My bare hands??" Five shrugs, tense. "Wait for me! Imma get a shard of Grace's grandma!!" He breathes out a nervous chuckle, gripping the axe tightly.
Y/N comes back with a shard of glass. They look Five up and down before shrugging off his blazer and putting it on the hook previously meant for the axe. "I'd tell you to loosen up, but that'd be hypocritical and it's killing and stuff. Is there anything I can do?" He shakes his head. "Alrighty. Reading when you are."
They walked into the room, side by side, with their weapons drawn. Fish man gargled when he noticed, sitting up from his chair at the end of the long wood table. He gasped, "Call security!!!" The lady closest to the phone swiveled back in her spinney chair and reached for the phone. Five swung down, his axe chopping through her arm and hitting the table with a thud. The lady screamed, eyes wide for a split second before clamping shut as her whole body tensed up, and Five swung again, silencing her for good.
Y/N jumped up onto the table, walked in front of the first cowering man and strikes. The blood stains their previously clean shoes and splatters up his knee. He grins. Looking over, he can see Five mirroring his expression.
This is gonna be fun.
The killer's high or as previously described as "fun" only lasted until Mr. Fish was flopping on the floor pathetically. The adrenaline, joy, and energy drips off of both their expressions and is replaced with a tired frown. The after effect is never fun, it's what Y/N imagines a hangover is like. A pounding headache, white spots in the vision (although that might just be because he forgot to eat today), and the dreaded feeling of what you did looming over your shoulder. Not fun.
For Five, it's worse. He never wanted to kill, but he has and he keeps having to. Even as a kid he's been taking lives and each time something in his mind breaks. Y/N does their best to distract him from it. He can deal with it with Y/N later, once he's not covered head to toe in blood. But right now he needs a distraction. Y/N learned that from expirence.
"Sir Hargreeves," They bow, "May I have this dance?"
There's soft music playing from Y/N's phone.
A tiny hint of recognition in Five's glassy eyes when he starts the music. Y/N counts that as a win.
Y/N takes the lead, aware that Five wouldn't be able to do that just yet but would definitely want to once he was more aware. They waltz together to the piano, stepping in puddles of blood once in a while, just getting lost in the music. Y/N spins him, smiling at the surprised laugh that spilled out of Five's lips. Five grips Y/N's waist.
"Hi." He says, leaning in close.
"Hello. Doing any better?"
"Yeah. Thank you. " He talks slow and has to concentrate to figure out words, but he's slowly coming back. Y/N pulls him into their shoulder, resting their chin on his.
"You're Welcome, Love."