Number Eight - The Viper ┃ Five Hargreeves ┃1┃

VI - Expired Twinkies

Viktor returned home to his cozy and quaint little apartment, still feeling low after the fight with his family. He was angry with Diego, livid, even. Taking a deep sigh, Viktor turned on the light, revealing Number Five and Number Eight calmly drinking coffee at his kitchen table. They were both still streaked with dry blood. 

Viktor jumped, holding in a scream. "Jesus!" 

"You should probably have locks on your windows." Number Eight grinned at Viktor. 

"I'm on the fifth floor." Viktor shrugged, placing his bag and violin down on the table beside the teenagers. 

"Rapists can climb." Number Five said simply, sipping his coffee. He was just as cynical and blunt as he always had been; clearly the future hadn't changed him. 

"My God, why are you covered in blood?" Viktor asked, his face masked with worry. Viktor was known to be the softest in the family. On the other hand, Number Five and Number Eight were known to be the toughest. 

"Don't worry, it's not ours." Number Eight said, licking her thumb in order to try and scrub some of the blood off of her skin. She furrowed her eyebrows and scrunched up her mouth as she concentrated. Number Five watched her, amused.

"Yeah, not what I was worried about. What are you two doing here?" Viktor asked, taking a seat at the small table. He looked between the two, eyes filled with concern and hands trembling slightly. The fact that they were covered in blood wasn't the most alarming thing in this situation to Viktor; he was surprisingly used to seeing it from the sidelines of their childhood. 

"I've decided that you two are the only ones that I can trust." Five said, sighing slightly as his eyes fluttered closed. Number Eight placed a hand gently on Number Five's shoulder, causing him to flinch away slightly. He still wasn't good with physical contact. Number Eight frowned after touching him. She had felt dread through her powers. 

"Why us?" Viktor asked. 

"Because you're ordinary. And because, you're you." Number Five said, gesturing towards Viktor and then Number Eight. He spoke facts, not insults, with his comments. 

"When I jumped forward, into the future, do you know what I found?" He said, tilting his head to one side as his mind pondered. 

"No." Number Eight said simply. She knew the outcome of this conversation couldn't be good, otherwise she wouldn't have detected dread. 

"What?" Asked Viktor. 

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Number Five spoke, blunt and sharp. He started to have a flashback as he spoke. 

Number Five wandered through a deserted city. Bodies were everywhere, desiccated, littering the floor of rubble. The bodies were little more than skeletons and were strewn on the sidewalk, slumped behind the wheel of their cars, collapsed in their chairs at an outdoor cafe. He couldn't tell what killed them, but whatever it was, it happened fast, and without warning.

"As far as I could tell, I was the last person left alive." Number Five said, remembering the trauma that he had gone through. He spoke emotionlessly and his face was expressionless. 

"I never figured out what killed the human race, or why. But I did find something else." He continued, pausing briefly to gather his thoughts. "The date it happens." 

Number Eight and Viktor looked at Number Five in shock. His expression was solemn. Haunted. Hopeless.

"Wait, what?" Viktor said, the words barely stumbling from his lips. He was staggered, his brain not putting his thoughts together quickly enough. 

"My God. I can't take any more life-altering traumas today. I've literally woken up from 12 years sleep and now this?!" Number Eight rolled her eyes, lulling her head backwards on the dining chair. 

"The world ends in nine days. And I have no idea how to stop it." Said Number Five, a sigh escaping his lips.  "I survived on scraps. Canned food, cockroaches, anything I could find. You know the rumour that Twinkies have an endless shelf life? " Number Five shuddered. "Total bullshit." 

"I can't even imagine." Said Viktor with sadness in his voice.  

"Goddamn cockroaches." Number Eight said under her breath, her stomach churning at the thought. 

"You do whatever it takes to survive. Or you die. So we adapted. Whatever the world threw at us, we found a way to overcome it." Number Five said, swilling around the last of his coffee in the bottom of his mug before throwing it down his throat.

"We?" Asked Number Eight.

Number Five paused for a moment, thinking. "You got anything stronger?"

After spending a few minutes in the kitchen, Viktor reappeared with a glass of scotch in his hand, placing it in front of Number Five. Viktor looked at the boy, sceptically.

"You think I'm crazy." He said bluntly, raising an eyebrow at Viktor. 

"No- I just-" Started Viktor, but he couldn't seem to find the words that he was looking for. 

"It's a lot to take in, Five." Number Eight said, once again tapping a rhythm on the tops of her things. It often kept her occupied, especially when she felt like the world was falling apart around her. First she wakes from a 12 year coma, then her satanic adoptive father dies, then her lost adoptive brother returns, and now this. How much is one person expected to handle in one day? 

"Exactly what don't you understand?" Five scoffed, throwing some scotch down the back of his throat, feeling it burn as it travelled. He needed the relief.

"Why didn't you just time travel back?" Asked Viktor.

"Gee, I wish I'd have thought of that." Said Number Five, grimacing. 

"Five, stop with the attitude." Number Eight snapped, her 'mother-mode' kicking into action. When they were young, Number Five always accused Number Eight of having a 'mother-mode' whenever she got bossy. She didn't see it as bossiness, she saw it as keeping Number Five alive. 

"Time travel is a crap shoot, it can mess up your mind. You think I didn't try everything to get back to my family?" Number Five said the last sentence in a lower voice, it almost becoming a whisper. Number Eight softened slightly as she heard Number Five being close to sincere. It was a rare occurrence. 

"Well maybe that's what's happening? Maybe your mind is messed up?" Said Viktor, trying to come up with a rational solution. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and felt that there must be a scientific reason behind Five's words. 

"This was a mistake. You're too young! Too naive." Number Five raised his voice slightly, standing up from the dining table. 

"No, Five. Five.. wait." Said Number Eight, looking at the boy who stood before her. She simply looked at his eyes, her hand on his wrist. His scowl softened immediately. "Look, it's been a long day."

"And, you know, it's getting late. I have violin lessons early tomorrow and I need to sleep, and I'm sure you two do as well. You can stay here, the couch pulls out to a double." Viktor said, starting to pull the cushions away from the couch, revealing a large pull out bed. "We will talk in the morning again. Okay? I promise." He said, finishing with the bed and turning towards his two adoptive-siblings. 

Five breathed heavily through his nose, trying to forget about his thoughts of the apocalypse. "Night Viktor." He said, in unison with Number Eight, who had stood up from the table and approached the pull out bed. 

"Night guys." Viktor gave a small smile, before leaving the living room. 

Number Eight turned her head towards Number Five. "You know, I'm letting this whole one bed between two of us thing go because you've had a rough day. But, I swear to God, if you snore tonight? I will kill you." She taunted, poking a finger into the centre of Number Five's chest. 

He chuckled lightly, looking towards his feet and shaking his head. "Okay, Eight. You're on."