He'd adapted to being in the military quite quickly. Guns, battles, watching people die around him- sure, it sucked, but not as bad as it could have. Plus, he had you to stick with him and annoy the shit out of him.

You two had recently returned to your shitty little military tents after one of the most intense battles either of you had ever been a part of. Neither of you were severely injured, thank god, but the army had lost plenty of soldiers, and even more were succumbing to wounds every minute.

It was the middle of the night, and Five was on his way out of the tent. He didn't want to be there- not with the wounded people, the constant groans and snores, and the smell of dirt and sweat and blood mixing and leaving an acrid stench in the air.

The oxygen he breathed outside the tent wasn't much fresher, but at least it wasn't as suffocating. He made his way along the edge of camp until he came to the spot where he usually went when he needed to clear his head.

He made it a good bit before he tripped in the dark, falling into what seemed to be a ditch or a hole he hadn't noticed before.

"Shit," he cursed, about to attempt to stand when someone hoisted him to his feet. His first instinct was to punch whoever it was, before he realized it was you- he recognized, just barely, the vague outline of your face in the dark.

"Hey," you muttered, your voice hoarse, sounding a bit like you'd just woken up. "Don't hurt yourself, we've already got enough injured soldiers,"

Five scoffed, shoving your hand off his arm. He really didn't mind that you'd helped him up, but he was gonna act like he did.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," they shot back, "Were you following me out here?"