Five remembers very well. He squeals and squirms under the invading fingers in his side, one hand flying up to clamp over his own mouth, laughing into his hand. "You dick," he says through a laugh, as he swats at his brother's shoulder, no heat to the words, and no real fight in the hand on Five's shoulder.

"Shoes are the worst, and I bet all the other me's would agree, and since I'm pretty sure the me's outnumber everybody, that means, I win." Klaus logic is the most sound logic of all kinds, obviously. Made more so by the way he sticks his tongue out at the other boy.

One corner of his mouth twitches upward, but it isn't a real smile and there's no mirth behind it. "Mmm, debatable. You don't come egregiously injured and covered in blood, screaming my name like it's the only thing that could possibly save you." His lips draw into a line and a frown creases his forehead. "Kinda pathetic, isn't it? All I ever do is run."