amour coriace ( five hargreeves! ) - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

IT HAD BEEN 22 YEARS. Twenty two fucking years since Vincent Leblanc had disappeared. Well, twenty two years for him. For everyone else in the past it had been 10 or less years. Vincent wished he could say the same for himself. He was 37 now, physically and somewhat mentally. Still stuck in the apocalyptic world of nothingness. He still hadn't met any living people, stuck to his lonesome in a small fort he had made for himself. He had made a habit of talking to himself, transforming into different people and putting on fake conversations. He may have kind of began to go utterly insane.
He had spent the years trying to go back, trying to bring himself home where he seemed to belong. His orange juice was long gone, drunk down to the very last drop. Oh lord, how he wished he could have more of that shit. He groaned to himself, the thought of the liquid enough to make him realize how horrible his life had become. He should have never used his power that day. He should have let the man kill him in cold blood, allow him to feel Vincent's body go dead and cold in his grip. But Vincent had always been stubborn. No matter how much he wished to die, death never seemed to come.
Vincent stood up, his limbs cracking in an effort to stretch out. He hated the way he looked now, old and gross. He wanted to be young again, a 15 year old boy with no worries to spare and a wide toothy grin. He didn't remember the last time he'd fully smiled. He had given up on trying to find anyone a while ago, once he made his way round to New York city, the big apple he knew he could fine the Umbrella Academy around. Perhaps they were alive, the lucky protected motherfuckers. Although, he had never made it there, stopping short and never trying again. He supposed he should.
Vincent sat back down, grabbing his all too empty box of cigarettes. Fuck... he wished he had more. He had smoked them all down over the span of 13 years, saving each one for a special occasion. That didn't last too long. They helped with the dread, more than anything. He huffed, lying back again with his arm lying over his eyes. He needed a cigarette. Or a bottle of whiskey. Anything to take his mind off of all of this.
Vincent jumped at the sound of footsteps, sitting up quickly. He furrowed his eyebrows when he saw a man that looked about his age, familiar and proper. He had a small beard growing in, something Vincent had sadly never been able to grow. "What the fuck?" He spoke up, maybe too loud. The man had jumped, ceasing the pulling of his cart and raising up a shotgun defensively.
Vincent didn't bother putting his hands up, stepping closer. "How the fuck- I thought I was in hell or something? By myself. Holy shit! Holy fuck!" He exclaimed, stepping closer. He huffed when the man pointed the gun right at his chest, the barrel touching right against him. Vincent hadn't even stiffened. If the man shot him, so be it. At least he'd be out of this.
"Who are you? Answer my question first and then I will answer yours." The man spoke, his voice oddly familiar to Vincent. Vincent sighed, rolling his eyes before shrugging.
"Vincent Leblanc." He greeted with a small chuckle, his accent slipping in. He hadn't spoken in a good few days, so his voice was a bit rougher than usual. "And you?" He spoke. He was genuinely interested.
"Leblanc?" The man spoke, almost in thought. He slowly lowered his gun, pointing it to the ground instead. Vincent noticed it was still pointed at his foot, just in case he tried to do something stupid. "They call me Number Five. I don't... really have a name." He spoke.
Vincent's eyes widened, stepping closer. "Number Five? As in, Umbrella Academy Five? Well, shit. Can I have your autograph?" He joked with an amused grin. Bingo. First smile in such a long time. "Kidding. I don't give a shit about your family. But how the hell are you here?" He questioned.
Number Five shrugged his shoulders. "I'm a time traveler. I came to the future out of pure interest and now I can't go back. I have reason to believe that someone caused this apocalypse. Someone who's not entirely a higher power." He spoke.
Vincent laughed. "Well, no shit," He mumbled. "I honestly don't know how I got here. Can travel 3 days into the future and can't go back. But this shit... this shit is more than 3 days for sure." He spoke, pointing around.
Number Five raised his eyebrow. "So you're like us? Abilities and everything?" He spoke.
Vincent nodded his head with a proud grin. "Why, of course. I'm a shapeshifter. That's why, once I get the fuck outta here I'm gonna stay in my teenage body." He spoke. "If I get the fuck outta here, that is."
Number Five chuckled. "I've never met a shapeshifter before.. that's fascinating." He spoke. "Absolutely fascinating."
Vincent sat down, grinning. "What's with the mannequin? Not judging man, it's just an interesting choice." He snorted in amusement. He shrunk back from the glare Number Five gave him. "Dude, I said I wasn't judging. Holy fuck."
Number Five huffed in utter annoyance, rolling his eyes. "You remind me of someone," He spoke simply. "My brother. Klaus. I miss him. Kind of. He was a pain in the ass, truly. Although, he was a joy to spend time with, suppose."
Vincent chuckled. "Yeah? Think I heard about you all on the news once when I was 13. The bank robbery shit. I was in awe. Too bad my parents refused your father's offer to get me into the academy. They don't love me too much." He grinned, despite the sad matter of the situation.
Number Five nodded. He did not show much sympathy, which Vincent was surprisingly grateful for. "Ah. My father does not love me very much either. Nor does my mother. I have learned to grow used to it."
From there on, Number Five and Vincent had sat there silently. Number Five had decided to stay with Vincent in his fort of sorts. He made the excuse that he did not want to go more insane than he already sensed himself being, a result of the loneliness he'd suffered. Vincent believed him.
They had stayed together for a good 3 months, having short chats and finding gross foods that they could eat. They rarely ever shared a laugh. And they never got too close to one another. It was like they were jail cell mates, being forced to speak to one another to keep from a neverending madness. Although, Vincent had taken a liking to Number Five.
After those three months had passed, Number Five had fallen slightly ill. It wasn't anything too bad, a simple cold that both him and Vincent could easily handle. Vincent had been sent off to search for medicine in the ruins of an old pharmacy, to see if he could find anything. He had only found a small bottle of expired purple cough syrup, scrunching his nose up in disgust at the sight.
He had made his way back to their fort, where Number Five was lying, waiting. But a woman had shown up before Vincent could get there, standing in front of Vincent with a wide smile on her red lips. Her white hair bobbed as she stepped closer, her dress tight on her body.
Vincent had stepped back a bit. "Another one? Who the fuck are you?" He questioned, not knowing what else he could really do. The woman had laughed, throwing her head back in a melodic manner.
"I'm here to save you. You could just call me your saviour, I suppose." The woman grinned, stepping closer. "I'm here to take you away from here. If you do exactly what I say."
"And what is it you're gonna say?" Vincent questioned, only slightly nervous. His hands stayed by his sides, fidgeting with the cap of the medicine.
"Don't you want to get out of here? Come on, Vincent. I could get you away. Make sure you don't age just like you want." The woman suggested.
Vincent took in a deep breath, eyes moving to the direction of the fort. "What about Five?" He asked, voice surprisingly soft.
The woman laughed. "Oh, him? He'll be out eventually. But not anytime soon. He's more of a worrying subject than you are, Mr. Leblanc." She spoke. "You shouldn't care for him as you seem to. He's a dangerous specimen. One that could kill you with a snap of his fingers."
Vincent chuckled. "I could do the same to him." He spoke, knowing that he would never ever do something like that to Five. Five was his friend at this point.
"Oh, could you?" The woman grinned. "Well, too bad we're not going to find out anytime soon. It's time to go." She spoke, grabbing Vincent's arm and snapping her fingers, most literally.
Vincent was gone from the apocalyptic world for another 21 years, put in the 1930s as a hitman. He stayed 37 the whole time, visibly hut not quite mentally. He had killed way too many people to be definitively okay. He was told that Number Five was placed in the 60s. Vincent was only glad that Five was at least alive.
Vincent had left the dastardly place on his own somehow through his powers. He had shapeshifted into the white haired woman, created the impression that he was her before utilizing the equation Five had told him so much about years before.
It had worked. And Vincent was sent back to life as they knew it. Only it had been 15 years since Vincent had gone missing. 16 for Number Five. Vincent couldn't just go back to normal life. He had become his 15 year old self yet again, a 57 year old man stuck in a 15 year olds body. Although, he felt more 37 than anything. So he would most definitely tell people the younger option.
Vincent hadn't known what to do, back in France with a vigor in his veins to get to New York, to find the Umbrella Academy and save Number Five, save the godamn world. He wasn't even going to face his parents, wasn't even going to try.