002
( que fais-tu, es-tu content de tout? )

chapter two !

VINCENT LEBLANC hadn't been happy for a year. More than a year, actually. His life had gone utterly downhill ever since the whole ordeal. He hadn't been able to sleep, hadn't found himself smiling as much. He supposed that's what something like what he went through did to a person. He hadn't spoken to very many people, either, living in a run down hotel for a year as he worked 3 jobs to get the money for a plane ticket to New York City.

Thank fuck, the 3 jobs didn't require a background check, allowing his true age to never be questioned. He was still visibly 15, even after a year had passed. He wasn't too bothered by it.

After about a year of working his hardest, he had finally gotten enough money to head right to the big apple, getting on a plane without a care in the world. He had grinned when he got there, finally away from the place he had despised for so very long. He knew exactly where the academy was located. Everyone did at this point. It was basically a tourist attraction.

He had hauled a taxi, sitting in the back with no bags or anything. He didn't have any possessions to take with him, after all. He was rather excited to go all the way to the Umbrella Academy, the place he'd thought about going to for years. Just for a visit. Reginald Hargreeves had died just recently, making it the perfect time for Vincent to head there.

Of course, he felt bad for the family. Although, it opened up a window for him to head over there and tell them all about the end of the world and Five... oh, Five. How he missed Number Five. Despite their rare share of happiness, Vincent still missed him dearly. He didn't think he ever would forget about the time traveling man who was now 58 years old, probably rotting away in the 1950s.

Vincent had kept track on how old Five had become over the years, keeping it recorded in his journal that he had managed to retrieve from his childhood home a few months before. He had broken in through his old window, one with a lock much too easy to pick. He had climbed inside, finding his room exactly the way he had left it all those years before he'd gone missing. He had easily found his journal underneath his pillow, slipping it underneath his shirt before running off away from the home and back to the hotel he had been staying in.

He wrote a lot more in the journal now than he used to. He wrote about Five a lot more than he ever thought he would. Wrote about his hair and his eyes, the mannequin he carried around and affectionately named "Dolores." He wrote about his attitude, the sass that exuded from the Hargreeves boy. The sass he had come to adore.

Vincent thought, at most times, that he liked Five more than Five had ever liked him. He was most likely correct, finding Five to be the bestest friend he had ever had. He doubted Five thought of him to be the same thing. Vincent had accepted the fact since, understanding that Five was probably terribly pissed at him for just leaving him all alone one day without a word of goodbye.

Vincent always winced at the memory. He felt horrible, didn't think he'd ever stop feeling horrible.

Once the taxi had dropped Vincent off at the large mansion like Hargreeves home, he had chuckled, glancing it over. He supposed it would be confusing for a random visually 15 year old boy to show up at their doorstep a few days after their fathers death, but he supposed they'd seen stranger things. He was surprised to find the front two doors unlocked, pushing them open with an ease he didn't expect to hold. He looked around, eyebrows furrowed. There was no one around, not a soul in sight.

"Who the hell are you?"

Well, maybe Vincent was wrong.

Vincent turned around, catching the eye of a taller man, one that looked much more intimidating that Vincent liked. But he hardened his features, flashing a grin at the man who wore all black. "Vincent Leblanc. And who the hell are you?" He greeted.

"Someone who lives here. So why are you breaking into my house, twerp? You're kinda interrupting something." The man spoke, grabbing Vincent by the ear like he was a small child. Vincent huffed, trying to get out of the grip.

"You must be Diego Hargreeves. The asshole." Vincent hissed under his breath in annoyance, not loud enough for Diego to hear very well. Five had told Vincent all about his siblings, about their abilities or lack thereof, in Vanya's case.

Diego grumbled something Vincent couldn't make out under his breath, dragging the kid into the kitchen. "This is the kid who was creeping around our house. He was being a smartass." He huffed, pushing Vincent forward.

Vincent rolled his eyes, brushing himself off. "Maybe if you'd been fucking nice, I would have left." He spoke before looking up at the others. His eyes widened at the sight of all the other Hargreeves children.

Including Five.

A visibly 13 year old Five, standing there making a marshmallow and peanut butter sandwich, a combination that Vincent had told Five all about in the future. Vincent stiffened at the sight, eyes catching onto his.

Five froze at the sight of Vincent, eyes widening and growing confused. He recognized the boy, but also not entirely. He looked conflicted, almost angry with himself for the thoughts not quite clicking.

"Who are you?" Another man spoke up, way too muscular and huge for Vincent to not be intimidated. He was worse than Diego. He must be Luther.

Vincent sighed, "I'll say it again, one more fucking time, my name is Vincent Leblanc." He huffed, his French accent much more prominent than it used to be. He had learned not to worry about it as much as he used to.

Vincent saw Five stiffen in the corner of his eyes, watched him teleport closer until he was standing right in front of Vincent, who jumped in surprise. He hadn't really missed that.

Five practically studied Vincent's face, looking as if he wanted to reach out and find if this Vincent was his Vincent. He paused. "Vincent.." He breathed out once he assured it was all true. He stepped back a few times, nearly stumbling. He visibly swallowed hard, regaining his composure surprisingly quickly. "Just... leave him in dad's study for a while. I will go to deal with him later." Five spoke, clearing his throat as he looked at Diego. "Do not fucking hurt him, alright?" He added on with such vigor that it gave Vincent chills. His face had hardened, back to it's mature look that Five always tried to present.

Vincent huffed when Diego gripped his arm yet again, his hold a bit too tight. He didn't hate this Diego guy. In fact, he found him admirable for how much he seemed to care about his family, enough to be a bitch to a total stranger. Although, he did not appreciate Diego pulling him forcefully upstairs to Reginald Hargreeves study, shoving him inside and locking the door. Diego had left, presumably back downstairs to the kitchen for his little family reunion of sorts.

Vincent has sat in the study for another five or ten minutes. Admittedly, it was not that long. But Vincent had always liked to make things out to be more dramatic than they actually were. So he had sat down on the ground, leaning against the desk, head thumping against it every now and again. He groaned here and there in annoyance, rolling his eyes to himself and throwing a silent temper tantrum, in true 15 year old fashion.

Great. He was developing the mannerisms of a teenager too.

Vincent jumped when the door opened, standing up quickly. He didn't expect for Five to walk inside, looking stiff and almost elegant. Vincent loved that about him. Although he had expected a different Hargreeves sibling to walk through the door, he was happy to see Five.

Vincent nearly smiled, but decided that would be an inappropriate reaction considering the circumstances. He simply silently watched Five close the door behind him before turning to face Vincent.

Five teleported yet again in front of Vincent, gone in a poof of blue before he appeared right in front of Vincent's eyes. Vincent jumped, blinking quickly at their close proximity. He chuckled lightly. "Hello to you too, Number Five." He spoke, their eyes interlocked. He was nervous, nervous out of his godamn mind.

Five huffed lightly, jaw clenching visibly. His jaw sculpted by the fucking gods. Lord, he was even more attractive as a 13 year old boy. But that was just him being 15 now talking. "Why the hell are you here? You're a fucking dumbass if you think it was a good idea to come here." Five grumbled.

Vincent chuckled, shaking his head. "Why else would I be here? To tell your family about the end of the world. Y'know the one we were stuck in for decades?" He grinned humorlessly. He stepped away from Five, walking behind the desk he was leaning against beforehand, fingers tracing over the spines of books on a small bookshelf. "And to find you, of course. I'd never forgotten about you. I hope you know that.." He spoke, voice much softer.

Five's jaw clenched tighter, swallowing thickly. "You left me there alone. For more than 10 years. You cannot just say sorry for that to be forgiven.." He mumbled. "I don't believe the end of the world is any of your concern. Not anymore, at least." He added on with a sigh.

Vincent scoffed, turning around to face Five. "Don't be stupid, Five. The end of the world will always be of my concern. I was fucking apart of it." He chuckled. "Don't let your hatred of me get in the way of the fact that I can be of help to you and your family."

"You can't help shit," Five hissed, teleporting closer, his hand now holding a pen close to Vincent's throat. Vincent supposed he shouldn't be afraid of a measly pen, but lord knows what Five could do with it. Vincent leaned his head back, chuckling lightly. "You have already ruined everything." He spoke bitterly, pressing the tip of the pen threateningly up against Vincent's neck.

"Stop being a kinky fuck, Five. I came all the way from France for this, connard." Vincent huffed, rolling his eyes. He tried to stay away from the pen, not really wanting to see what Five was capable of doing with it.

Five huffed. "This is your problem, Vincent. You say the most ignorant things and nearly get yourself killed. My siblings are not exactly kind. They will not hesitate to kill you if you get in the way. Which you definetly will." He spoke. "You are a backstabbing asshole who cannot be trusted." He grumbled.

Vincent chuckled, "You tell me that you would have passed up the opportunity to leave that hellhole." He spoke. "I asked to bring you with me. The woman told me it couldn't happen." He mumbled. "And I'm fucking sorry about it. Okay? But I would not change my decision." He huffed.

Five resisted the urge to press the pen up to Vincent's trachea, easily kill him by forcing the pen up into his throat. Although, it was no lie that Five cared for Vincent deeply. Despite his unadulterated anger towards Vincent, he would never kill him. He would never be able to bring himself to do such a thing. Not so easily, at least. Vincent is only talking, anyway. He's spewing the hard truth that Five could never bring himself to accept. The truth that if he were put in Vincent's position, he probably would have chose to leave too.

But Five did not want to put Vincent in harm's way. He wanted to keep him safe. Even if that took sending him back to Paris and forcing him to never speak to him again, as much as it would hurt to say.

Five sighed heavily, "You have no useful information. Nothing that I don't already kno-" Five was cut off by the sound of the door opening momentarily, a head peeking in. Vincent did not recognize the woman, but knew that she was definetly one of Five's siblings. Five's head turned towards the presence, blinking a few times.

He put the pen pointed at Vincent's neck down slowly at the woman's disapproving look before he cleared his throat. "Vanya. What do you need?" He asked, voice considerably softer than it had been with Vincent.

Vanya smiled softly at Vincent before turning her eyes back to Five. "I just wanted to talk to you, but you're busy. We can talk later." She mumbled. "And Five, don't hurt him. You said it yourself, you don't want him hurt." She spoke before shutting the door and leaving yet again.

Vincent had a grin plastered across his face when Five turned back to him, raising his eyebrow. Vincent chuckled. "You told them not to hurt me? How sweet.." He joked. "You've always been a secret softie for me, Five. Can't deny it." He grinned wider.

Five rolled his eyes defiantly. "Fuck off. I do not. I hated every second of my time with you." He spoke, but Vincent could tell he was lying. Five had a sort of tick that would be clear whenever he lied. He would avert his weight to one foot rather than the other. Vincent had picked up on it easily. But he did not comment.

Vincent simply chuckled, "So when did you come back then?" He asked curiously, moving to sit down in the chair behind the desk, leaning back in it.

Five shook his head, "Today. An hour or so ago. You came right on time, actually." He spoke. "Right on time to piss me the fuck off." He huffed.

Vincent laughed, a loud almost cackle like sound, his head thrown back and all. Five had always loved making Vincent laugh like that, despite it being seen only on the rarest of occasions. Although, it seemed like Vincent was much happier to see Five than he used to be. "Well, that's perfect. I came back a year ago. Dropped off in France in the backyard of my old house. Luckily, the folks weren't home. So I was good.. I spent my time in a hotel. Trying to find enough money to come here." He explained. "Didn't count on seeing your ugly ass prepubescent face." He joked.

Five scrunched his nose up in annoyance, "I am not the only one who is prepubescent now. Why the hell are you 13 again?" He hissed out, stepping closer.

Vincent chuckled, spinning the chair around a bit. "I'm 15 again, actually. 16 now, maybe. Not sure." He grinned. "And I don't know. It was your fucking equation. Not that I have a problem with it. I look better when I'm not 37 and balding." He snorted in pure amusement.

"You look fine either way," Five slipped out, shrugging. He realized what exactly he said after a few moments, face becoming a red rosy color with embarrassment, to which Vincent cooed at.

Five suddenly huffed, probably finally realizing what he had come to talk to Vincent about once and for all. "Listen to me, Leblanc. You need-" He was cut off yet again, but this time by Vincent speaking.

"They're coming after me, y'know?" Vincent smiled sheepishly. "The assassins and shit. They've been trying to kill me for the past year. That's partly why I left France." He spoke. "My hair was blonde in France! Blonde! I looked like a raw whore!J'avais l'air tellement moche putain. T'aurais dû voir ça! Tu t'en serais tapé le cul par terre tellement c'était drôle, espèce de p'tit merdeux!" He spoke, mostly in French. He spoke much too fast for Five to possibly understand.

"They are? Why the hell would they do that? They're supposed to only come for me." Five spoke, ignoring the whole French portion. Five had learned the French language in the time Vincent had left. He had learned how to speak the entirety of the language, from curse words to food names. Although, he still wasn't the best.

"Well, they fucking aren't. I got shot in the leg a few months ago. Hurt like a fucking whore. I had to take it out myself and everything. Oh, the joys of having no money." Vincent chuckled, shaking his head.

"You need to leave." Five spoke firmly, stepping closer. He stopped Vincent from continuing to spin the chair, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up. He was somehow strong enough to lift him. Or maybe Vincent just didn't weight much. He hadn't weighed himself yet.

"What? I just came here. Why would I-" Vincent started, furrowing his eyebrows.

"You can't fucking be here, Vincent. I don't want you here. None of my family wants you here. We don't need you." Five spat. Vincent's eyes widened, not expecting the harsh words. "You left me, Vincent. And you'll leave us all too." Five spoke, his voice slightly cracking. Vincent knew he'd blame it on the puberty he was going through yet again if he asked.

"I have no where to go, Five." Vincent spoke, not chuckling or smiling. All ounces of humor and amusement were gone from his face.

Five looked down, letting Vincent go and shoving him back. "I don't care. Find somewhere. Go the fuck back to France. You're not my responsibility. You'll never be my responsibility again." He jeered.

Vincent swallowed thickly, beginning to walk away, listen to what Five was saying. He wouldn't want to piss him off. No, that would be a bad mistake. He knew what would happen if he did that.

"Just fucking leave, Vincent." Five ended up whispering, making fury filled eye contact with him.

Vincent flipped Five off for what he assumed would be the last time before he left the Hargreeves home.

Vincent walked from there, walked to the nearest motel. A run down place with an interesting careless man running it. Vincent got a room, locking the door before lying down on his queen sized bed.

He wasn't going to just go back to France. He wasn't just not going to help. He wasn't just gonna let Five fucking die.

Vincent decided that he would never do what Five says again, not unless it was something he wholeheartedly agreed with.

FRENCH TO ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS:

connard: stupid shit

J'avais l'air tellement moche putain. T'aurais dû voir ça! Tu t'en serais tapé le cul par terre tellement c'était drôle, espèce de p'tit merdeux!: I looked so fucking ugly! You should've seen this shit. You would have busted a lung, you little shit.

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A/N: I hope you liked this chapter! This is like 3111 words lmfao. So it's Really long. Again, I don't speak French so if i am wrong at any point, please tell me.