Chapter title is from the same song title by The Mighty Mighty Bosstones

Unbeta-ed. Enjoy the read!

Five

When the portal had successfully taken the six of them moments before a piece of the moon crashed on their location, he felt the familiar rush of his power, except this time it kept on expanding and expanding to accommodate them all. His eyes remained close, focusing on the given time frame he has in mind.

2002. They had to go back seventeen years ago, before his disappearance, before Ben's death, when they were under Reginald's care. There was no need for the training, of course, but they do need to confront their adoptive father concerning Vanya. He wouldn't trust Reginald with Vanya's lessons on control, because that did so well for them and the Earth. But Five wasn't there last time, and that made a huge difference. No, they would take matters in their own hands this time with his lead, seeing as they weren't completely useless under the right guidance and command.

The mansion had already taken form in his mind's eye, with lesser peeling wallpapers, less dusty furniture, and an atmosphere that wasn't home, per se, but made it felt lived-in. Grace was in the kitchen, Pogo tending the garden, Reginald in his study, and the seven of them minding their own businesses behind the closed-doors of their respective bedrooms. It wasn't a rare occasion but more of a routine that he remembered having to stomach for more than a decade.

All of a sudden, pain sliced through him like a hot knife, making him hyperaware of the surrounding space pressing against him on all sides, suffocating him, them. He was pushing past his limit now, given that time traveling should only feel like a breeze, the whole ordeal much quicker when he had done it alone. This one seemed to drag for too long, as if with the intent of tearing him limb by limb.

He felt the hands holding on both of his squeezing tighter, holding on for life or afraid that he might be separated. His own hands gripped them back with equal strength, and while he had forgotten which was which hand-in-hand, he wouldn't let go of anyone.

Because while it was much easier to do this by himself, the knowledge that he wouldn't be by his own anymore no matter what timeline they landed was comforting.

For what seemed like forever, the distant noise of thunder cracked. There was the sensation of falling until he met the ground. His hiss of pain was overpowered by the collective groans of his siblings from their ungraceful landing. A few distance away from him, he heard Klaus sputtering out sand from his mouth.

Sand. A fucking sand.

There was no nearby sound of the crashing waves, or any body of water for that matter. Instead, there were guns aimed at them by a handful of men and women in suits. He couldn't recognize any of their uncovered faces, but they definitely smelled like the Temps Commission.

He counted at least twenty armed men, and judging by their much advanced tech, this was a different branch of the Commission. He did hear before about them dealing with integration of technology from an assortment of centuries forward and backward.

"We'll appreciate it if you could put your hands behind your back and make no step further. This could go down peacefully, young gentlemen and ladies," said a calm voice, clearly a man with authority.

Luther pulled him by his shoulder, placing himself in front of his siblings. Vanya, who remained unconscious, was now carried by Diego. Luther might no longer have his huge body to shield them, but he did make sure that they were a tight-knit group.

"We meant you no harm," Luther said. Immediately, he was taken aback by his own young voice until he cleared his throat, trying to sound like he was speaking for them. "Our sister needs medical attention, so let us be on our way."

Five almost wanted to smack him. Idiot. But then again, Luther's decisions were dumb at most since he tried to take the mantle of the leader.

Not a chance with Five.

"Can I speak to your superior?" Five stepped up, letting his volume carry to the man who spoke earlier. "I believe he has questions for us that he would like to be answered."

The armed men exchanged glances, eyes flitting to the woman who made a gesture. There was a chuckle from the back, and two men emerged.

Both higher-ups, alright, but Five was guessing that the black man with an eyepatch preceded the shorter man with a receding hairline and austere face.

"So, boy," the man with eyepatch began. "Or are you really a boy or is that how you and your kind appear from where you came from?"

Five frowned. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

An eyebrow rose before his expression morphed into no nonsense. "Look, you are not fooling anyone here. I don't know what's with you aliens that you have a thing for Earth, but either you prove yourselves that you're not a threat like Thor or you're invaders like the Chitauri."

Five had no idea what that string of sentences meant. Mentions of Thor and this Chitauri never came up from during his employment at the Commission; aliens, once or twice, maybe. If these people were not the Commission, who could they be?

The uniform these armed men wore has the logo of a bird with spread wings. Five was certain that he hadn't seen the insignia before even on the previous timeline. Was this some sort of secret organization that he hasn't heard of? If so why wasn't the Commission aware of this?

The man's single eye found his companions. "Are the seven of you siblings?"

Seven—Five glanced and found Ben among them. He wasn't expecting to negate Ben's death, but his abilities might prove useful for them.

"No. Not by blood, at least," Five replied. Since Luther had already admitted their connection, there was no use hiding it. "We escaped from the Temps Commission and found ourselves here."

The other man accompanying this one with eyepatch tapped something on the tablet he was carrying.

"Through a wormhole."

"Yes." The ball was on their court now. "Is it safe to assume that this is a common occurrence here?"

"Surprisingly, yes. You'll have to pardon us for assuming that the next wormhole to open won't be bringing us an ally. We were lucky with the first, but not so much with the next." The man's eye found itself again on Five, not giving anything away. "This Temps Commission that you're speaking of, what are they?"

"Kind of what your organization does."

"What do you think we do?"

"Eliminate threats."

The man looked vaguely impressed. "True. So are you?"

"No." Not yet, anyway. Vanya could be if they didn't manage to fix her in time.

"The fact that you're being chased by something like us says otherwise."

"It is mainly my fault," Five said. "I uncovered a corruption, but they're too big a system to bring down by someone like me. It backfired at my face, and my family has gotten involved."

"And where do you plan to retreat?"

"What is the exact date?" Five asked back.

The man considered them for a moment, no hint of surprise from the sudden question. "May 12, 2012."

"What?" Five said before he could stop himself.

No, no, no, no. That can't be! His calculations were correct, he made sure of it! The location might not be exactly in the mansion, but they should be in 2002 at this very moment. It should be seventeen years back, not seven years! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"I don't really care if you find the date unsatisfactory," the man said dryly. "But the seven of you will have to come with us."

"No!" Five spat, his sudden agitation caused the armed men to be in higher alert. "We're not fucking supposed to be here!"

"Boy, I don't give a motherfucking shit where you should be. You're trespassing on Earth, and that's an offense we don't take lightly." He gestured to the same woman before. "Agent Hill, have them detained."

Several things happened at once.

Five dislocated the knees and shoulder of the man who tried to grab him. He jumped, appearing behind another person, a woman this time, and disarmed her in two moves. Five wasn't about to try his luck using the firearms they were carrying, but he could use the knives he fished from the previous two.

His siblings weren't idle the moment the fight began. Diego left Vanya to Allison's care while he threw what was left of his blades. Their mark found the arms and legs of at least three. Luther took ahold of a foot of one of the men and threw him against another two.

Klaus and Ben were huddled together, the latter merely standing as he took in the scene like an outsider. He had probably forgotten that he was no longer a ghost. They could really use his creatures now. Klaus head-butted someone and then promptly raised his hands high in complete surrender when he came face-to-face with three guns. Pathetic.

Five had already made a clear line for the man with eyepatch. His mistake was that he didn't go after him right at the very beginning. Though while he was obviously the head, he wasn't treated as a vulnerability. Either he was easily replaceable like The Handler said she was, or he wasn't helpless in combat.

Five was preparing for another jump through the warping space when it threw him a step back like a rubber seal. Shit. He tried again, only to be thrown back with more force.

He stopped and stood straighter. The fight seemingly stopped at the same time he did. It only occurred to Five that not once did he hear any bullets flew, the fight too easy. The man with eyepatch was in no hurry to flee as well, eyeing him critically while the quiet man beside him continued to tap away on his tablet.

They've been played, and Five foolishly showed their capabilities to these people they had no clue about and was clearly way smarter than the Temps Commission.

Five could hear an oncoming chopper. The rush of adrenaline was drumming in his ear along with the rotor of the chopper as it flew overhead. A man could be seen with a bow and arrow trained on Five.

It wasn't long when another flew to the scene. It definitely wasn't a chopper, but rather a… a man.

A man in a red metal suit, to be precise.

"Stand down, kids. You don't want old Nicky mad."

Great. More men—one as if he came out of some sci-fi comics—and Five's jumps at their limit. Just great.

The winds swept harder, sending more sand on Five's eyes. If he was to guess the time, it must be high noon. His clothes were in a swelter and itchy with sand that managed to find their way underneath. It was beginning to be the worst day of his life, and that was saying something considering the fact that they escaped from the apocalypse.

Five squared his shoulders and tried another jump. He refused to go down, goddammit!

"Kid, seriously, you don't want—oh damn."

Gravity pressed down on him as the world spun dizzyingly, his vision darkening in an alarming rate.

Ah, shit.

Tony

"Five!"

The tallest kid in the bunch ran towards the boy who dropped unconscious. Who the hell names their kid 'Five'?

Tony could count seven of them, two girls and five boys. One of the girls was out cold, probably for a while now.

"You're late."

Tony tutted. "You're just early."

"Can't be too early in this matter," Fury said, not having any of Tony's bullshit, as always. "When we arrived, the wormhole has already manifested. As I recall, we placed a call on your direct line ten minutes earlier."

"Fine. I'm fashionably late."

Not that Fury had to know that the very mention of wormhole was enough to send his insides churning with dread, nor did he have to know that Tony was lucky to get two hours of sleep at best since the aftermath of Loki's invasion a week ago. And when he slept he could see the same fleet of Chitauri that he had seen lying in wait, except they were on their way to Earth after deciding they had bidden enough time, carrying with them ten times the number Loki had.

Tony had never felt this insignificant against the vastness of the universe. And for once in his life, he felt like a speck of dirt. He might be part of The Avengers, Earth's mightiest heroes, the front line of defense against these extraterrestrials they were yet to discover; they were the big guys, but what was the six of them compared to a mothership full of aliens far advanced than them? If one of them falls, what then?

The six of them would never be enough.

"Stark. Are you listening?"

"Yeah? Cool, whatever you say." From his position, he could see the kids being herded in a line towards the jet that touched down minutes ago. "Where are you bringing them?" He shrugged. "Pretend that I didn't listen."

"They'll be put in a secluded facility S.H.I.E.L.D. owned. If they're not here to invade us, we might as well put their abilities to good use."

"Abilities?"

"While only three of them displayed some kind of superpowers, I'm not going to assume the other four don't have one."

"Now hold up a minute. You're going to imprison these kids?" Tony's attention returned to the unknown children, catching the last one on the line with cuffs on hand.

Fury's jaw tightened. "If you've had come earlier, you would have seen that they're not normal kids. I'm not even sure they're human after coming from a wormhole. You should have seen the one they call Five. There's no way a kid can bring down seven of my agents. And don't get me started on how he can seemingly appear out if nowhere."

"Obviously, you ordered your men not to fight back, else at least one has a bullet or two in them." Tony pointed out. "No. They're children with powers, but still children."

"They could be aliens under a guise, Stark, or beings like Thor and Loki who appeared every bit human until they entered combat."

Tony wouldn't deny the point, but he would since it came from Fury. And while Tony wasn't particularly fond of children, the thought of seven young ones being subjected to… whatever S.H.I.E.L.D. has in store for them didn't sit well with him.

"No. You're not doing anything with those kids."

Fury might be used to his defiance, but that never made him tolerant of his attitude. Tony could sense the bubbling anger there, though it surprised him when Fury calmly asked, "You have a more brilliant idea in mind?"

Tony could feel—no, he knew, he knew it was going to bite him in the ass later for even bringing it up. But to hell with it! To hell with Fury and his band of agents, to hell with his nightmares and sleep deprivation. He needed something to distract himself or else he would go mad.

"I might have a thing or two."

TBC