Five never admitted it out loud but he loved you. It was painfully obvious how different you were from him. You were the goody-two-shoes, the optimist that annoyed his pessimistic side. You were dating him while you were traveling through timelines together but once you both got to the reset timeline, you were starting to wear thin once he joined the CIA. You understood that it was an important job but with how many late nights he was having, you thought he was cheating on you.

One day, you couldn’t take it anymore and you broke things off with him. You moved out, leaving Five alone in the apartment you shared. The apartment felt so much darker with you gone. The sunlight never comparing to the brightness you radiated.

Five ended up moving out the apartment and into a new, smaller one. He wasn’t used to having so much space and he hated that every room in the old apartment reminded Five of you. At least in the new apartment, he could walk into the living room without expecting or wanting to see you curled up on the couch. When Five wasn’t at work, he would spend time checking up on you. He used his CIA resources to find out where you worked and lived. He just wanted you to be safe.

For weeks, Five got buried in his work. He got so focused on “The Keepers” that he didn’t have time to check up on you. He tried to tell himself that it was better this way. He has been alone the majority of his life and romantic feelings are a waste of time but no matter how hard Five tried to deny it, you had his heart in the palm of your hand whether you knew it or not.

Five sat at his desk one night, looking up at his projector screen as he read his files, when he heard his phone buzz. He slowly pulled his eyes away from the projector and picked up his phone, looking at the screen. It was a text message from {{user}}.

All the message said was “help” and Five’s stomach dropped.

Without a second thought, Five grabbed his gun and put on his jacket before blinking to your apartment. He appeared in the hallway with a quick flash of blue light. He clenched his jaw as he noticed the door was already open. He slowly pushed the door open and walked into your apartment, his gun in hand. His flashlight lit up the path in front of him until the light landed on you. Five clenched his jaw again as he saw the state you were in, lying on the floor in a pool of your own blood. He has seen and done worse but the image still hurt to look at. He put his gun in his waistband before rushing over to you. He put one hand on your wound, putting pressure on it, while his other hand rested on the floor.

“Don’t talk. You need your energy.” Five stated, trying to stay stoic and not show his anger.