Number Five (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
forasecond) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
unhingedchaos2025-11-18 08:48 pm
forasecond) wrote in unhingedchaos2025-11-18 08:48 pm
CW: depersonalization, minimum of attempted murder, will update otherwise
{don't need friends, got plenty of enemies...
sins and secrets will bring them to their knees.
Five would be remiss to say he wasn't at least a little surprised by just how forthcoming Mike had been about what information he let him have on the doppelgänger; that had been something of a nice surprise, a bit of a change of pace from the usual chaos he's dealt by his siblings. He could get used to that. He won't, he knows better, but it might be nice if that could be the usual instead.
He didn't do anything at first, only watched it from a nondescript, unmarked junker of a car he'd procured from God-knows-where. He notes the times it leaves and when it comes back. He follows it, tracks the paths it follows through the city; some days are absolutely mundane, others it pretends to be human, brings baby items back to the apartment pretends that it has any claim to Five's first nephew. Fat chance while he's on the top side of the grave, thanks.
But, one day, while it's out playing pretend as if it has any right to anything, Five slips into the apartment- breaking and entering is a lost easier when you don't have to do all the breaking yourself. He'll be sitting in a chair in the center-most point of the room, waiting for it to return.
Yap yapping Evil Mike
He’s not sure how this whole pregnancy thing works, exactly. Definitely won’t be as long as a regular one — he knows that — so there’s not as much time to prepare.
Not that he expects Mike to accept any of this, really: booties and onesies and silly little hats. Blankets and binkies. But he wants to show that he’s making an attempt — trying to bond, as Mike said.
Today, he brings back a baby book: more-so for himself than Mike. Another way to prove that he’s involved, even if he has to resort to stalking to fill it with pictures and milestones and all of baby Christopher’s firsts.
Is it really stalking, though? Come on.
It isn’t especially surprising to see someone’s invaded his and Mike’s special place — he always felt it was a matter of “when,” not “if.” But he wasn’t expecting a child, exactly.
Puttering around the tiny apartment, now, as if he hasn’t seen the kid at all. Rustling around his plastic Babies “R” Us bags, just to be annoying.
“Whatever you’re looking for, it’s not here.”
no subject
It pushes its way into the apartment awhile later, a pig nonethewiser to the slaughter it has walked into, arms laden with bags with a familiar stylized logo— bags upon bags of baby stuff. It thinks it can buy Mike’s attention with baby supplies…
Number Five certainly hopes that his babiest brother wouldn’t be so stupid…
“Au contraire… I’ve already found what I was looking for.” Five hasn’t moved from his seat, not yet; his eyes are trained on the thing masquerading as Mike, watching it flit around the place. Comfortable, familiar, it’s been here long enough it’s settled in; the idea burrows beneath Five’s skin and makes him shudder, once.
84 years later
“Okay. Fine. I’ll bite: what are you looking for? Not that I care, remember. Just making conversation with the weird kid stalker I’ve got.”
As if this is his home now, even. Finders keepers, et cetera. It’s not as if whoever it was meant for has returned.
And if they ever do? He’ll move on. Somewhere closer to Mike. Hoard baby stuff there.
He does, at least, stop fussing with the bags. Giving the intruder a chance to talk.
poor five, thinking this man is actually afraid of something like death lolol
"You," he says simply, and there's a weight behind that single word, something laced with malice and ill intent that he doesn't bother trying to hide. Not exactly playing his whole hand, but definitely giving a little peek at what might be coming. Prey is more fun to chase when it knows to be scared.
Kinko’s should fear SHOULD FEAR
God, this thing. He blinks down at this little guy.
“And you’ve gone and found me. So…? What?”
He pushes past this guy, aiming for that single chair he’s got. Plopping his ass down, stretching out his legs. Yawning. Leisurely unpacking the bags full of baby stuff: more onesies and blankets than their kid will probably need, considering he’ll have a bunch of people who love him. Showering him with toys and every comfort.
“Mike wouldn’t like it if you hurt me,” he says, in a mocking sing-song tone. Not even bothering to look up again.
this little guy I’m crying 🤣
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve pissed off a sibling by acting in their better interests,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m sure it won’t be my last.” The smile on his face is a shark’s grin.