westwhere | do you have enough love in your heart

Fetch is an underrated game. Sometime between drinking half a bottle and coming up with no new solutions to their problems, he'd taken to seeing how much dog was really in a hellhound. As it turned out, they have one thing in common. He's not sure how many times he threw the stick and watched as it dutifully returned it in its gaping maw, but there's an unmistakable amusement in seeing something so terrifying getting such wholesome exercise.

Maybe he should keep it around.

And maybe it's his fault that both of their guards are down when the attack comes. One moment Five is smirking when the hound jumps to catch a particularly bad throw over its head, and the next its body is cleanly separated from it as a blade slices cleanly through it. Five reacts immediately, shouting much louder than he should when the body lands, but whoever threw the blade wisely sticks to the shadows. Then he hears all the telltale signs that he's surrounded, and any doubt of what they're after dissipates.

It was a matter of time before they went after Messalina's supporters. He spares a glance at the corpse of the hound, still twitching. His jaw clenches, and through the haze of alcohol he can feel the familiar light of rage. They won't live to regret that.

Cal is kind of used to things falling apart in an instant, whether it be a society or parts of his own life. And Ephes is right on that precipice, though they've all seen parts spill over already.

It's a mess, in short, and Cal is sure it's going to get worse before it gets better. That's typically how these things go.

It's one reason he's out on the streets, despite the random harassment and weapons searches - his blaster and lightsaber still on his person, but covered by his clothes. Cal doesn't know how to sit still, anyway. Some people would say he's out looking for trouble, but he intends to help keep people out of it, if he can. So when he sees someone playing fetch with a hound of sorts, he hopes that's all it is.

But then a sudden wave of nausea rolls over him and he knows it isn't. Not a moment later, the hound is in two very separate pieces, too far from him to have reasonably done anything, but it still bites, it still hurts, and Cal immediately looks and reaches out to find the culprit. Which also doesn't take long considering the multiple presences he senses nearby. They mean to ambush and, he won't kid himself, kill this person.

Cal would like to try and talk them down, but there isn't time for that. He doesn't think they'd listen, anyway. No one seems to want to listen to him these days. Instead, he brings one half of his lightsaber hilt to hand and pulls one of the ambushers to him with his other hand. He ignites the saber and a a beam of icy blue pierces their gut without resistance. Cal then unceremoniously pulls the saber free and drops them to the ground.

He calls out to anyone else hiding. "Doesn't seem like a fair fight, huh?"

This is hardly the first time Five has been ambushed, but for once they were smart about it. When the earth tilts beneath him he's suddenly aware of how much of that bottle he put away. How long were they watching him?

It won't matter.

He's grabbing for the discarded blade from the gore at his feet when a bright light catches his eye. He squints in the dark to watch a body dropping from some kind of beam. The voice seems familiar, but he can't place it — or has time to before movement draws his attention; he disappears in a flash of light just as another blade flies towards him.

The calculations are off. Five reappears and nearly slams into his attacker. Fortunately their surprise makes up for his sloppy technique, and he slashes the moment they turn. He hits his mark and smiles at their shocked expression as warm blood sprays him from the slit he put in their throat.

In hindsight he should have left him alive to find out how many others are out here, but that wouldn't be nearly as satisfying. Instead he fends off their feeble attempts to fight back, and in one motion he severs them into as many pieces as they'd left his companion. When he circles back to where a part of the hound remains he's bloodied and still swaying slightly, but the sight seems to fuel the adrenaline and fury that keeps him upright. He doesn't want to be done.

"Don't you dare run," he warns the darkness that seems to answer with the distant sounds of footfalls. He can't make out if they're from the ones after him, or the man with the beam. "Where are you?"

Things Ben didn't expect when he went out for a walk - Five having a large, horrific looking animal bound toward him. It takes Ben a second, because from a distance it looks like he needs to get involved and save his brother, but no. The creature has a stick, and seems to be...playing fetch with Five. That's almost cute.

Ben even thinks he'll go over, say hi and join in. Until the body lands, the familiar splash of gore all around it. Even Ben's expression changes from amusement to confused, then to alert.

He starts to run over, "FIVE!" immediately worried for his brother's safety. He'll deal with how affected Five might be mentally from the scene, later, he has priorities.

He's by Five's side, trying to cover his back for him, and unless this person has Diego's powers, figuring out where the blade came from is easy enough to deduce.

"It came from over there, right?" he cants his head, ready to follow him in.

Five looks wildly to the shadows when Ben calls for him, just as he had his hand around the thrown blade. In an instant his rage turns to full-on panic. Ben can't be here. Any threat to his life is nothing compared to the possibility of losing his brother again.

"There's more," he says quickly, tense as he barely fights the urge to slice their individual heads off just as they had the hound. They're too exposed, and he can't bring himself to risk leaving Ben to fend for himself even for a few seconds.

A glint of light shining off of metal catches his eye, and he grabs Ben's arm without ever thinking of where he should take him. Blinking while drunk is never a smart decision, so when he teleports the two of them, he slams into something solid and loses his footing. The sound of movement tells him he didn't go far, and when he looks up he only sees two large crates down the alley from the hellhound's corpse.

"Shit," he rubs his shoulder and throws his bright, alarmed gaze back at Ben. "Are you alright?"

Five's concern for him would worry Ben, as he can fight for himself. And Five's well-being matters just as much, after all, they felt Five was dead before Ben's death.

They are exposed, no argument there, but the Umbrellas are more than accustomed to that kind of situation.

"Yeah, other than...." Ben breathes in and puts a hand to his stomach, "that uncomfortable feeling your teleporting caused. Why'd you do that?"

It's only a small relief that he's fine, for as quickly as he brushes off any discomfort from his teleporting. The 'why' should be obvious. The last time Ben died, Five wasn't around. He always liked to think if he were, that wouldn't have happened, even if it means blaming himself for running off on them.

"You saw what they did," though he says it with a slight question in his tone. The shock was sobering, but not enough to get him to settle. They didn't aim for him, they aimed for the hound. Take him out and then Five would be easy pickings. Like fucking hell...

"They didn't see where we went. I don't think." He shifts and remembers the blade in his hand. Blue glows around it until he remembers his stumble moments ago. Which is fine. He doesn't have to use his powers, which he'll explain to Ben with perfect efficiency. "I've got to go kill them."

If Ben blames anyone for dying, it's probably more himself, certainly not Five's lack of at the time. He would tell Five that's taking on a lot of responsibility on himself.

"I did. Which is why, shouldn't we be retaliating?"

Ben shakes his head, puts a hand on Five's shoulder.

"We. We've got to go kill them."

If it weren't for the sluggish haze he's still wading out of, he would have already retaliated, but the hand on his shoulder seems to jolt him into clarity.

"We?" Voices behind them briefly steals his attention. A shadow of figure approaching a part of the hound's corpse, and his grip over the blade tightens. He hesitates only because Ben will jump in if he doesn't take the time to reason with him. Only because it's Ben. Unfortunately, he's not in an ideal state for reasoning.

"They weren't looking for you, Ben. They may have taken me by surprise, but let me deal with them."

"The fact they were looking for your is why it should be us," Ben hisses out. They don't really have time to reason, and he knows that. They are going to get attached before they have even decided anything.

But would they be Hargreeves otherwise?

Five stares blankly at his brother, because that makes absolutely no sense to him. He's the one who can draw their attention while Ben continues to exist, in a very-alive state, which is more important than anything currently happening around them.

"No," he finally surmises, even as he sways back and stares at the ground to get steady again. Even drunk, he can kill a few guys with no powers. Even if they did decapitate a hellhound. “I can do it, just wait here for a minute.”

And before hearing the argument, he squints briefly then blinks towards the figure in the distance, nearly landing on top of him. Sloppy when he slashes at the body, but it’s muscle memory and he attacks without hesitation or concern of the others circling around.

The man flails and his hands go to his throat after Five buries his blade in it. Slower than he’d like, but he shakes himself to get ready for the next.

"No?" Ben asks with irritation in his tone, just as Five blinks out. Expression tight with mild annoyance, he rushes back out. He can, really, take care of himself. As if anyone of them ever listen.

Clearly, it's not just a Klaus problem.

He manages to show just as some of the attackers are getting into formation around Five. It's not painless, and it's not fun, but he opens his stomach up. Tentacles lash out to grab and maim, without hesitation. Tell him no. Like Ben is just going to sit on the sidelines while who knows what happens to Five. Not happening.

Five nearly stumbles mid-jump when tentacles shoot out from the shadows, grabbing at more men than he'd seen and tearing them apart. He stands there frozen, like he's watching a movie, and traces them back to Ben. Even as he's tearing through them like paper dolls, he can't subdue the panic that they might get lucky. Remember the hound.

He blinks at the first sign of movement, and launches blade first into the first body that wasn't immediately ripped in half by the tentacles. His aim is off at times, but he doesn't want to take any chances. They need to die and stay dead before any one of them can report on his brother.

The third time he tries it, he falls back, too dizzy to stand. Nauseous and covered in blood that isn't his, he leans over himself and breathes while tentacles still whip around him. He shouts back at Ben, and doesn't notice the man who managed to avoid their attacks until he lunges at him and pins him to the ground.

Ben feels the agony as he holds himself, letting the tentacles continue. He's covered in blood. It drips down his face, his clothes, and these men are still coming? That's not good. He has to retract the tentacles for a moment.

It's in that moment, already exhausted, almost hunched over himself, another one rushes Five.

"Better be the last asshole!" Ben shouts out, annoyed as he lets the tentacles rip through him once more. One grabs for the assailant to pull it off Five. Or skewer it right above Five.

In one moment Five is struggling to wrestle the larger man off so he can get the upper hand, and in the next the weight is lifted as a shower of blood rains down on him before the body is ripped to the side. The tentacles never touch him. For as much control as Ben didn't have over them as kids, he seems to have gotten a better hang of them now.

"Shit." He mops the blood from his face and tries to locate Ben. The attacks seem to have settled, but he's still uneasy. If it hadn't been for Ben, that could have gone badly, all because he let his guard down for a minute.

Bodies surround him, in bits and pieces, but he doesn't see anything moving. He stares into the darkness to be sure. "...Well done, Ben. I think you did it."

Control or not, Ben's hands shake in the aftermath, part from the anxiety and adrenaline, part from the pain. He just stares at Five for a second, panting, and only when he's sure Five is untouched does he seem to break out of shock.

He looks down at his hands, and, much like Five, Ben is covered in blood as well. It will be really obvious what happened here if anyone shows.

"We need to go. Now. Before they send more," Ben tells him, stern. He looks around around them, just in case, but so far? It seems quiet again. He's aware how deceptive that can look, though.

Five turns back when Ben speaks, and looks at him like he's only now noticing that he's exhausted and dripping in blood. That takes him back, in a horrible way, to their childhood missions. It's hard to forget how Ben reacted then, and how much he would have preferred to prevent him having to go through it again.

His fault. Guilt chews away at his insides and he can't do more than agree with him.

Getting to his feet is more difficult than it should be, but he remembers he was irresponsibly drunk before he landed in the middle of all these murders. Death bothers him on a different level, more distaste than moral objection and he hates having to clean up after. He takes two steps before he lurches, and the moment Ben turns his head, he buckles over and throws up over the gore at his feet.

...What are the odds Ben didn't catch that? He feels better once he's done, though considerably dirtier.

"Yeah." Distract him by agreeing, even as it takes him a minute to straighten back up and uselessly wipe at the mess on his clothes. Five would rather bury the hound rather than leave it here to rot, he can't say his brother doesn't have a point. He doesn't want him caught up in any more crossfire. "I can... deal with it later."

Not his fault, Ben would insist and point out to Five it was the fault of the people that attacked. As if he was going to let anything happen to Five after everything. No way!

Oh, Ben definitely catches when Five's insides churn out. He reaches over to put an arm around Five's shoulders.

"Yeah?" He almost wasn't expecting the agreement. Five mentions deal with something later, and Ben's eyes move to the hound.

"You mean the dog?"

Ben always has been more perceptive than the rest of their siblings. He sniffs and nods. The alcohol he just threw up mixed with the blood doesn't make for a great smell, and the nausea resurfaces. Luckily Ben is there to keep him steady. He wants nothing more than to wash it off of him, but not until his brother is somewhere safe. If anywhere is safe.

"Leaving it here to rot doesn't feel right." The hound wasn't the one who attacked first, or at all. He deserves better, but now he's looking at Ben and trying to get a read on his expression. He almost hesitates to ask what he's thinking. "Is it crazy to want to bury it?"

Maybe that's why he needed to be there for Klaus, for a while.

Ben keeps an arm there for Five, then looks to the dog's body.

"It's not crazy. He was yours. Like a pet, or a friend, right? It's perfectly normal," Ben assures him. "We won't leave him here. Let's get the body together, then you teleport us out of here like earlier?" It'll be faster, and keep them safe, just in case. He still doesn't see anyone else, but Ben isn't taking chances.

Knowing their luck, they'll make a move, then things will get out of control again.

Five looks, for a moment, genuinely sad. Ben is offering him reassurance that he's wholly unused to, and it makes him realize how lonely he's been without it. Few of their siblings were ever so quick to tell him he's having normal reactions to things that are inherently crazy. The dog was a demon. Not his first demon-friend, but still, it's a leap of acceptance that he appreciates.

There's one problem with that suggestion. The same problem that nearly had him making a fatal mistake in that fight.

"I don't know if I can right now." Maybe Ben is being polite not to point it out, or he really hasn't noticed that he'd been drinking. Five's powers have more limitations than most, and he's had too many misjudgments spatial jumping while he was inebriated. "At least not accurately. It's too big, I'll have to come back after."

It's what he does. Talk sense to Klaus, play pranks with Diego on Luther, and reassure everyone else. And this? Feeling sad over the loss of a pet? Totally normal, even if it's not a normal dog. They were bonding, that much was obvious.

"No. We're not risking leaving it here," Ben insists. "Just get ready to run." He's done crazier things before. This is nothing. And it'll save them a trip, later.

He walks over to pick up the hellbeast's body, refusing argue about this further.

No objections. Five doesn't even know how to process what he's watching at first. Ben doesn't seem to hold a single judgment towards him, despite the fact that he risked both their lives for a demon and a bottle of alcohol. He simply identified the thing that Five thinks is important and took it on himself to help.

When he comes back to the present it's sudden, with a jerky movement of his shoulders that can't quite constitute as a shrug, and he steps over to find where the head lies severed nearby. The head is lighter, if more awkward to carry. If he could just...

"You can't run with it." Let him point that out right now. He intends to bury the body, but he's not risking his brother for it. The head feels strange in his hands and he keeps his eyes locked on Ben. "...It's too heavy. If we can get it out of sight, that'll be enough until I can blink again."

It's that simple to Ben. After everything he helped Klaus through, this is almost normal.

Ben...can't deny Five is right. He's not running this with body.

He nods his head, and manages to at least lift it enough to not outright drag it along the ground.

"Okay. We are still getting it out sight, though. And coming back later."

This seems to be a good enough plan for the moment. If Five can just view this as a simple task to get from Point A to Point B he can ignore the conflicting emotions that he's not sure what to do with.

The head alone is heavy, so it feels wrong to leave Ben with the larger share of the weight. He doesn't have it in him to blink them to safety, but he can manage to do this much. It takes effort to remember the direction they were facing when he'd teleported with Ben just before they retaliated.

"There were crates," he says, somewhat uncertainly. "...where we were before. You remember? They were... they'd work."

do you have enough love in your heart

maybe you're why we can't have good things (cw: brief description of decapitation)

Can't even have wholesome demon dog interactions smh

not for him :(

works?

works! hopefully this does too

works for me!

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cw: violent stomach tentacles

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