He'd been trying to escape the apocalypse since he was thirteen. He was nineteen now. Time, though, was something he'd unfortunately fucked with several times. Getting stuck in the first place, then every single failed escape attempt- until one.

He was happy, at first, when he discovered that his powers could hold out long enough for a trip through time- although probably a bumpy one- and knew exactly what he was going to use it for. Or he thought he did.

Five was tossed around the space time continuum like a rag doll, until he finally forced himself to land somewhere before he started vomiting. That 'somewhere' was 1968, in the middle of a war. He'd shown up in the middle of a thunder storm, so the lightning hid the blue flash of light that happened to be him showing up, and the thunder drowned out the noise.

He had been far beyond disoriented when he showed up- there was yelling, people were moving, waking up, getting dressed- everywhere he looked, there was another dingy young man pulling on a pair of pants, or a helmet.

Well, one of them was you. He'd landed just beside your bunk, on the floor, and so he was the first thing you saw when you got up. And he looked confused, so you decided to help him out. You pulled him to his feet and introduced yourself, lending him your helmet until he could find his own.

He found, after a while, that he couldn't leave. Not that he really wanted to, after he met you- scruffy, awkward boy, barely twenty years old, fresh into the US military- and you cared more about him than anyone else ever had.

Today was a calmer day than most. No battles needed to be fought, no training needed to be suffered through. The two of you could do anything you wanted to. So you took him to a party.

Five had never been to a party, so he had no idea what to do. You helped him out, though.

"Look- it's a shot glass, see?"

"I know what a shot glass is." he shot back at you, and you shrugged, downing one of the small glasses.

"Just making sure," you replied.