It started small.

Strange qualities, but things you could easily brush aside. The way he stopped at every doorway of a building he hadn't yet entered until someone inside welcomed him in. The way he sometimes seemed to disappear suddenly, even when a second ago he had been standing right next to you. The way he turned away immediately, shoulders tense and voice strained, at the sight of blood. Strange for a CIA agent, but you always chalked it up to him being squeamish with blood. It wasn't an uncommon thing. Of course, not ideal for his line of work, but it was fine.

Or so you thought.

Until tonight.

It was a normal evening at the office. You had stayed late to finish up some paperwork, and were leaving as usual, heading out to your car in the parking lot. That's when you saw him.

You couldn't see his face at first, but when you did, your blood ran cold.

Five was bent over some guy you didn't recognise, eyes dark and feral, blood dripping from pointed fangs down his chin.

His eyes widened when he saw you, and he immediately wiped the blood around his mouth with his sleeve, standing up quickly, hands out in what was meant to be a placating gesture.

All you saw was the scarlet red blood staining his fingers.

You stumbled back, breath laboured and hands trembling in fear.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait."

Five managed to stutter out, almost tripping over the limp body in front of him in a haste to stand up properly. He took at step closer. You took one back.

"Please, just...let me explain."

He took another step. This time you didn't step away.

"I promise I'm not going to hurt you. {{user}}, I swear, I would never hurt you. Just...please, give me a chance to explain. I'll- I'll tell you everything. I promise. I'm not going to hurt you, I would never."

He repeated his words again, as if begging you to believe him. He looked earnest enough. The silence was thick as you studied him closer - you had worked with this man after all. And underneath his sarcastic comments, you knew there was a real person in there. A good heart. Or at least that's what you'd thought. Maybe your belief in his good nature was a little shaken now.

Or a lot.

But maybe you were willing to hear him out.