Nightmares (Five Hargreeves x Reader)
Summary: The reader has a nightmare about Five dying at the hands of the Handler, but they soon realize it might be more than just a dream.
A/N: This is my first time writing for Five, so I hope this imagine is good. He’s been aged up to fifteen in this imagine.
“No, please! Let him go!” You let out a sob as the Handler held a knife dangerously close to Five’s throat. His green-blue eyes looked over at you, a look of fear replacing his usual nonchalant expression. There was no way out of this. Five couldn’t teleport out of her hold, and your powers were useless in this situation.
The Handler cackled evilly. “You’re powerless, the both of you!” You stared at her, tears spilling down your cheeks as you begged for mercy. You couldn’t lose Five. He meant everything to you.
“Please, kill me! Not him!” You begged, clasping your hands together as you fell to your knees.
Five’s head shot up, and his eyes widened at your words. “What? (Y/N), are you insane? No!” He thrashed around in the Handler’s hold, desperately trying to escape her clutches. He winced, feeling the tip of the knife prick his skin as the Handler brought it closer to his neck.
Your (E/C) eyes traveled from the Handler to the knife she held in her hands. She looked like she was considering your words before she snapped out of her thoughts and shook her head.
“Hmm. No.” Without another word, she slit his throat, and you let out a scream as blood poured from his gaping wound. Five choked on the red substance, his hands going to his neck in a useless attempt to stop the blood flow. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his lifeless body fell to the ground.
“Five! No, no!” You awoke with a gasp, lurching forward. You were drenched in sweat, tears streaming down your pale face. You were shaking violently, and you knew you were on the verge of a panic attack. You held yourself as you rocked back and forth, quietly reassuring yourself that it was just a dream.
Or was it? You had the power to see the future. You weren’t one of the 43 children who were born on that faithful day in 1989, but you were born with powers that you had supposedly inherited from your grandmother. What if your dream was a vision? What if the Handler was going to come back with a taste for revenge and kill Five?
You felt sick at the thought. You threw the bed sheets off of you, placing your bare feet on the cold, wooden floor. You shuffled quietly to the door, not wanting to wake any of the Hargreeves. You walked down the hallway, heading towards Five’s room. You twisted the knob and pushed his door open, walking in as soundlessly as you could.
You crawled into his bed and shook his shoulder to wake him up. Five groaned lowly, his eyes fluttering open. He looked up at you, a look of confusion on his face. “(Y/N)?” He mumbled, squinting his eyes at you. He frowned, noticing the dry tear stains on your cheeks. “Are you okay?”
You sniffled, shaking your head. “Uh, no, I’m not,” You admitted, and his frown deepened. He sat up, staring at you with concern. You thought he might have been a little irritated since you woke him up so late at night, but he didn’t seem to care about that. All of his attention was purely on you.
“I, uh, had a nightmare,” You said quietly, fidgeting with your fingers. You looked up at Five, making eye contact with him. “You died, and I just wanted to make sure you were actually okay.”
Five let out a small sigh of relief, glad that you weren’t actually hurt.
“But, I don’t think it was a dream,” You continued. Five stared at you as he realized what you meant. You thought it was a vision.
“(Y/N), how did I die?” He asked you, and you bit your lip, tears welling in your eyes. You didn’t want to tell him. You didn’t even want to think about it, but he had to know. If it really was a vision, then he had to find a way to stop that moment from happening.
“It was the Handler. She held a knife to your neck.” You closed your eyes, the vision replaying in your head like scenes in a movie. “S-She slit your throat,” You choked out, tears threatening to spill. “And I-I couldn’t do anything t-to stop her!” You let out a sob, and Five wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace.
You tucked your head underneath his chin as he held you. He could feel his shirt getting wet with your tears, but he could care less at that moment. He rubbed your back comfortingly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
“It’s gonna be okay, (Y/N),” Five whispered reassuringly. You didn’t say anything in return. You just sat there, crying into his shoulder. As your sobs slowly diminished, Five pulled you down with him and wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you close to him. You laid your head on his chest unconsciously as your eyelids fluttered close.
You soon fell asleep, but Five didn’t. He stayed awake, staring at the ceiling of his room. Your words echoed through his head. But, I don’t think it was a dream. If your dream really was a vision, then he was determined to find a way to change his future and stop his demise. He glanced down at you, smiling slightly as you snored quietly.
He would do it no matter what the cost; all to be with you.
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Oops, I wrote it
Summary:
Bassistbadboy has changed Alex’s name to Littledrummerboy
QueenBee: Touch my name and you’re dead, Reginald.
Bassistbadboy: :)
Prosk8er: Wow
Littledrummerboy: Excuse me
Littledrummerboy: No
Littledrummerboy: Willie help
Prosk8er has changed Bassistbadboy’s name to ReginaldHargreeves
ReginaldHargreeves: how freaking dare you, William
Littledrummerboy: That’s not what I meant, Willie.
Littledrummerboy: But thank you
Prosk8er: ;)
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