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messers-moony · 2 years

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That Feeling | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader

Summary: Five has never felt safe with anyone in his life, until her.

Prompt: Buying them something unrequested because it made you think of them.

Five Hargreeves was an ass. There is no way to sugarcoat and no need to. Five Hargreeves was the embodiment of a bitter old man. Supposedly that’s exactly what he was despite his appearance. So when Y/n showed up - a close friend of Klaus - he was not particularly happy with the new arrangements.

The girl - mentally and physically sixteen - easily won over Allison, Vanya, and obviously Klaus, surprisingly even Diego. Luther still seemed hesitant, but Five was distant. He was staying as far away from the girl as he could. Five was cold and bitter - kept to himself.

During the day, Y/n worked as a barista at a coffee shop, and during the evenings, she’d come to the Umbrella Academy estate with baked goods from her shop. Five wouldn’t admit it, but his heart always got warmed at the sight of a coffee and donut just for him. Both items sat on the kitchen table with a note - always different.

“Five’s stuff.”

It made him smile that despite never talking to her that she always made an effort to make him happy. That’s just how Y/n was, though—constantly making sacrifices and decisions to make other people happy despite her own feelings.

Y/n would sit through movies she’d seen just to see Vanya light up. She’d come to events with Allison - despite her intense dislike for populated places - just to see her complete her goals. She’d make an effort to attend Diego’s boxing matches to cheer him on, even if she didn’t want to spend her Saturday in a sweaty gym. Y/n would let Klaus rant for days about his past lover even if it made her uncomfortable because the one she loved didn’t love her back. Hell, she sat with Luther in the living room, letting him lecture her about the moon.

Five realized then how much she was willing to put before herself—the complete opposite of him. For the most part, Five always put himself first but seeing her put everyone before her. Maybe it made him reconsider his decisions. Little steps, he’d find her backpack and leave index cards with messages in his signature handwriting.

“You made my day today.”

“Thank you for the donut.”

“I hope you had a good day.”

He’d leave different messages on the five by 3-inch index card. Y/n wouldn’t admit it, but it made her cheeks blossom with magenta and her stomach fill with butterflies. It would warm her even on the coldest snowy days and race her heart to the max. Five’s notes meant the world to her even if he didn’t know it - and he didn’t. Five Hargreeves had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea he was playing with her feelings.

On occasion, he’d visit her at her work. Five would sit at a booth with his notebook and pen - a pen she got for him during a Christmas - just sitting there working on equations. Most people would believe that Five hated snowy days, but that couldn’t be any more false, and it was because of her. He adored the way snowflakes littered her hair. The way she took off her hat and tried to flatten her hair. The flush of her cheeks. The way she applied chapstick to her lips every hour. He’d do anything to know what it tasted like on her lips.

Would it be Cherry? Maybe strawberry. No, she despised strawberry. It had to be mint. Y/n loved peppermint. He noticed the way her drinks changed. During the fall, a pumpkin spice. During the winter, peppermint mocha. During the spring, iced latte. During the summer, iced cold brew. Five noticed, he noticed everything about her.

On the fifth week, Y/n decided to sit with him during her break, “Afternoon, Hargreeves.”

Y/n slid him a coffee and donut, “Afternoon, L/n.”

“So, come to stalk me at work? Couldn’t take being away from me?” Y/n teased, and Five’s cheeks lit aflame, “I like the shop. I didn’t know you worked here at first.” He lied.

Y/n quirked an eyebrow, “You never read the coffee shop name on your cup when I brought you home coffee?”

“No.”

“Interesting.”

Silence. Beautiful, peaceful silence aside from the chatter in the store. But silence between the two. Five found great pleasure in silence, particularly her silence. Y/n’s presence alone could make him feel jittery yet focused at the same time. She made his heart race and cheeks turn pink. How could she do that? No one had managed that before. It made him wonder how he kept his distance for so long. She’d been coming around the mansion since she was fourteen, and now they were both sixteen.

“Whatcha working on?”

Five snapped out of his reverie, “Equations.”

“For?” Y/n gestured.

“Time travel.”

Y/n tilted her head, intrigued, “Time travel, huh? You planning on leaving us?”

“No, never. I’ve already done it once. I’ll never do it again.” Five confessed, letting his walls slip momentarily, hoping she didn’t notice, but she did.

“What happened the first time around?”

Five gave her a look, eyes glossed, hands unable to keep still, “Apocalypse.” The word was barely whispered, but she knew.

“No need to continue; it hurts you. I can tell. But when you’re ready, we can talk, okay?” Y/n replied, placing her hands over his fidgeting ones.

She began to rise from the table, but Five needed this - he needed her, “Wait, please. I want to talk about it.”

Y/n slipped back into the booth without a sound, “It was awful. There was nothing around, and everything was on fire.” It was impossible to keep his hands still now, “I saw my siblings dead. I had gone seventeen years in the future into the world completely obliterated.”

“I- I stayed there. For forty-some years until a woman showed up telling me, she had a job for me. I didn’t- I didn’t know the job was going to make me a killing machine. So for barely five years, I killed people. When I got my equations right.” He motioned to the notebook in front of him, “Or I thought I had them right I time travel back home to save the world. I saved the world twice before coming home to peace.”

Through explaining, not a tear had dropped, maybe talking did make things better, “A year later, Klaus invited you over. Then you came around a lot more. I didn’t know how to feel. But even after me being a dick to you, you still left me coffee and donuts.”

“You were so kind, and I didn’t know how to embrace it. I didn’t want to ruin you.”

Y/n chuckled, “You’d never ruin me. Now-“ Y/n stood from the table, “My break is over, but we can talk at the Academy, okay?”

Five nodded and hummed. Y/n leaned over and kissed his forehead, “Good.”

He felt giddy, and he didn’t know why. But the moment her lips were placed on his forehead, he was overwhelmed with a certain happiness. It flooded his body like a dam breaking - crashed in without warning. Five’s cheeks turned just the slightest bit red, and his hands moved constantly. His leg going up and down at a rapid pace. For the first time, Five felt shy.

Regardless, moments later, Five packed up all his stuff and left for the Academy. His room felt dull compared to every other place in the house. Of course, it bared toys from when he was a boy that he never parted with and equations on the walls, but it felt so depressing - so bleak.

It was hours later when Y/n announced her entrance. But it made Five almost jump with joy as usual Y/n placed down her belongings on the kitchen table along with pastries and coffees. Klaus and Allison shortly made their way into the room. Allison reached for the beverage with her name on it while Klaus kissed Y/n’s cheek.

“You are a doll.”

Y/n chuckled, “Hush and eat your doughnuts.”

“Mm!” Allison exclaimed happily, “How do you always know what I’m craving?”

“I have many talents.”

“Like curing Number Five assholery?” Klaus teased.

Five halted his movements and stayed hidden beside the kitchen, “Five’s sweet.” Y/n retorted, making Allison scoff.

“Five is not sweet.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Beg to differ all you want.” Klaus replied, “But he’s just as bitter as his coffee.”

The chatter seized after that. Assuming Klaus dug into the doughnuts and Allison sipping her drink. Y/n slipped away unnoticed by the duo but not by Five. He noticed everything. Eventually, she came up to his room, where he quickly spatial jumped inside.

“Hey, Five.” Y/n greeted, “Hey.”

“I know you may not want to, but would you like to continue our conversation from earlier?”

“I’d love that.” Five smiled.

Y/n took her seat on his desk chair while Five sat at the foot of his bed. He explained everything. From letter A all the way to letter Z. No cracks were left, and every hole was filled. Five didn’t get sidetracked while telling a story; he stayed focused and determined. Y/n was a fantastic listener. Five learned. She didn’t interrupt or make any judgments. She just listened.

It felt like bricks had been lifted from his shoulders when he released an air of breath after reciting the story. Y/n’s coffee had gone frigid, and her back began to hurt from the position in the chair, but it was worth it because she was getting to know him.

They ended up on his bed. His head was on her chest as she ran her fingers through his brunet hair. It felt like the purest silk and the softest fleece. It was cool to the touch, and her movements made Five extremely sleepy. Maybe she wasn’t as bad as he thought. Perhaps Five felt like a dog warming up to someone entering his territory. But right now, she felt like home.

“I’ve never felt this safe before.” Five confessed quietly, so quiet Y/n almost didn’t hear him, “I feel- I feel at home.”

“Get some rest, pretty boy. We can talk about this later.”

Five’s cheeks flushed and turned a brilliant red. The tips of his ears were the slightest pink and his neck clouded with cotton Candy pink. Suddenly his face was hot to the touch, and he couldn’t stop smiling. There was that feeling again - the feeling he couldn’t name but could only describe. He felt like a boy again, that naive little boy with nothing but ambition. Y/n would bring out the best of him, and perhaps for once, Five could feel solace.

#Five x you #Five x reader #Five x y/n #five hargreeves #five hargreeves fluff #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves x reader #Five hargreeves x y/n #number five #number five x you #number five x y/n #number five x reader #tua #tua au #tua netflix #tua x reader #The Umbrella Academy

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kaybreezy3000 · 3 months

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The Anti Hero's Pitfall of Arrogance

Five Hargreeves / Female OC

What happens when you disarm an exceptionally arrogant person, one that is a self-absorbed, teleporting, teenaged superhero? The answer is not great things.

Get ready for Five like you've never seen him before... (Chapter One and Two Post)

- This AU starts off when the Hargreeves are 16 and but is based off the show. It's going to give you a look inside Five's mind at that time of his life and not all of it is good, but I promise it's not all bad. I always make sure to give our boy his day to shine.

Warnings and Tags: sexually explicit content, flashbacks, teen bad behavior, survival horror, bad decisions, regret, POV Five, aggression issues, suffering, humor and angst and fluff, redemption, sweet Five and mean Five in same story, Dolores is a factor, hurt Number Five, Five makes fun and dirty check lists in this one, Young Five is really something, Starts as him in his teens then the rest he is 21, Plot twists and many tags left off to avoid spoiling the story, shocker ending

-this first post will be 2 chapters, the story is 44,600 words, 7 chapters total, posts will be every 5-6 days till done.

-this has sexually explicit parts but also a real story. If you want to avoid explicit material, click my AO3 link at the end of this post and read the version on there instead.

Chapter One: Fateful Days

I was always anxious after our missions, but not because of what we had just done. It was because I knew that we’d be thrown in front of the cameras, expected to perform another kind of show for the public. As we sat in our line of chairs waiting for reporters to call on us, instead of making my nerves easily seen, I carefully controlled my facial expressions and tried to hide my bouncing knees by discreetly pressing them down under my sweaty palms.

My answers to their questions always came out smoothly, not even the slightest waver in my voice. Years of practice learning to hide any sign of fear paid off in those moments. I was a perfectionist in all things, but in gaining fans, I failed because I know that I came off as the most arrogant and aloof of any of my siblings, but it was better than looking weak.

Number Five Hargreeves was not the most likable of the superpowered members of the infamous Umbrella Academy, but I pretended not to care about that and so many other things.

Our life at the academy was extremely private and exceptionally challenging, but it was while placed in the spotlight that I struggled the most. Those were the times I found it hardest to hide how young and inexperienced I really was when it came to anything that really mattered in the real world.

My indifference towards everyone was part of a façade, but also not. My behavior at home wasn’t much different than my public persona. I always knew the answers; I was always better than everyone at everything. This kind of thing, the missions, being the heroes, it was what we were made for; or that’s at least what dad always said. And I was damn sure going to be the best at it, and everyone was going to see that, including my family.

Not all of us had so much pride when it came to our powers or public appearance. Some of my siblings felt the exact opposite about all this, but me being me, I didn’t see anyone else’s suffering as relevant when it came to my flawed view of the big scheme of things.

I should have.

Constantly edging out my family because of my dickhead aspiration to best them was just as prevalent when we were all sixteen as it was when we were very young. Only then, I no longer would bat an eye over their private tears and their personal sorrows. Before that, sometimes I would make myself available to them. I would every so often try to comfort Klaus by reading to him to drown out the ghosts as he tried to fall asleep, or I would sit with Vanya just so she didn’t feel so alone. Ben and I often shared the same interests academically and he was the only one I considered anywhere near my equal in all things intellectual. But by the time we hit our teens, even he and I rarely spoke unless necessary.

At only thirteen years old, the cutthroat mantra we were brought up on was backfiring. Instead of being the team dad wanted, we were pulling away from each other.

As my own way of dealing with all the mental manipulations and general bullshit of our home life, the older I got, the colder and more closed off I became. I wasn’t the only one doing this. We all lacked when it came to handling anything emotional, but I was the biggest offender.

That was probably why, that fateful day, I wouldn’t let anyone else snag the fan letter that was tossed out over the loud line of spectators. I had to win.

It happened while we were doing our final photo shots for the press on the stairs of the courthouse. With my eyes gazing out at our admirers through my mask, I saw the girl that threw it, and next to me, I knew Luther and Diego did too. The girl was the type that caught everyone’s eye.

Even someone as self-absorbed as me could see that she was very attractive.

Based on what I could tell, she was the same age or near it. Based on her clothing, I quickly determined that she attended one of the city's prestigious private schools that was focused on the arts. It was one that was specifically for those that were musicians or dancers and destined to make their careers in that area. The dark blazer and matching pleated skirt weren’t that much different to ours, but the crest near her lapel showed that she wasn’t just an obsessed fan trying to dress like us, though the crowd was full of those too.

She was different. She was special; we all knew it. Her long strawberry blonde hair was slung over her shoulder in a tight braid, and when her big blue eyes met mine, she smiled in the most curious way.

My self-assured smirk faltered in an instant.

Being I was neither tall or strong, or funny or even charmingly ridiculous like Klaus, none of the fangirls or guys usually paid me any attention. Her looking at me in a flirtatious sort of way was entirely new territory for me and I didn’t know how to react to it.

The small white envelope with red lip prints pressed along its seal perfectly matched the girl’s lips that threw it. My plan to piss off my brothers in any way possible was still in place when it landed at my impeccably polished dress shoes. I stomped on it, then bent over and snatched it up before either could pry it out from under my foot.

If I remember correctly, Luther said nothing, but he did roll his eyes at me before he went back to waving at everyone like he was a princess on a float at Disney World-not that I had ever seen one of those, but I had seen pictures.

Diego elbowed me in the ribs as discreetly as possible, then angrily complained, “Stop trying to steal the show. You did enough of that in there with your cocky little stapler stunt and all your flashy-flashy teleporting crap. You are such an asshole, Five. That was meant for me!”

I would have nailed him back, but my death glare would have to do, because dad was watching our immature exchange, a scowl making his usual displeased face even more unpleasant.

It was not that I craved the attention of our female fans the same way that they did. No, that wasn’t it. For me, it was all about the satisfaction to beat them at anything and everything. What I did inside the bank to one of the would-be robbers was merely me doing my job. Fuck Diego and his stupid knifes. If he doesn’t like that I’m better at taking people out with nothing but office supplies than that’s his problem not mine.

I clenched the letter, determinedly keeping it from their greedy hands because I knew all too well that my brothers weren't much better than a pack of wild dogs fighting over a bone when it came to attention and if I let my guard down, the letter would be gone. Pivoting to my left to block Diego's next attempt at getting the letter, I also did my best to search for the girl who threw it, but to my disappointment, she was gone.

Looking back on it now, as I stare down at my feet trudging along with the worn heels of my boots scraping across the broken and burning hot pavement, I wish for nothing more than the chance to go back to that day, or even to the next day, so I could do just about everything differently. I wish that I would have not shut my family out in thinking I was doing something good for myself.

I wish I hadn't done what I did to that girl.

I wish I had the guts to walk away from all of that like she said I should do.

I walked away alright, just not the way she meant.

Now, all I want is to get back to fix this.

Now, my whole focus is surviving long enough to find a way home, which also reminds me that I wish I hadn’t stepped on that shard of glass that sliced through the side of my boot, causing a deep gash in my right foot.

The dried blood from three days ago is crusted to the torn leather, and the color of it reminds me of her lips and that deep crimson red on that letter.

I can almost feel them. They were the first and last real lips I ever...

Anyway ... Now is not the time to dwell on all that. I will always wonder who she really was and why she did what she did. But, right now, it’s looking like I’ll never know the answers to those questions.

Right now, things aren’t looking too hot.

Actually, they are, that’s the problem.

It’s very fucking hot.

The unforgiving sun is burning my back through my clothes, but I can’t take them off because they are the only thing protecting my skin from the sun’s scorching rays. Wandering in the heat of mid-day this time of year is not the best idea, but when we woke this morning, we had to go. If we hadn’t, we would have been sitting ducks, waiting the entire day out in the open, frying on the pavement, and that wasn’t smart either.

My breaths are becoming shallower despite my physical struggle to keep pulling Dolores and our meager belongings behind me in my cart. The strap around my waist that’s attached to the wagon is digging into the protruding bones at my hips. I can feel my skin rubbing clean off me because it’s already chafed from days of endless walking. I keep tripping more and more over the last hour or so, and I’m finding that my eyes keep closing for minutes at a time.

I stopped sweating a long time ago.

I am out of water.

I am not stupid. I know this isn’t good, and neither is the fact that I can’t feel my right foot anymore, but I refuse to stop to rewrap it or to stop and eat the contents of one of my unlabeled, beaten and bent canned goods. I rationed what we have with us, and I can’t eat for another ten hours.

Being dehydrated is nothing new and even turning back now, it’s still two days’ time to the last place that may or may not still have drinkable water.

As for my foot…

I will be okay. It will heal.

I will find water. That’s the biggest problem at the moment. I just wasn’t planning on this oppressive heat or that there would be no rain in the last two weeks. As I lay with Dolores last night, staring up at the stars, we could hear thunder to the west, coming from the direction we’ve been heading, but again the rain never came to us. Everything is drying up. The earth is cracking, and the roads are buckling in the heat wave that’s making it feel like we are in a furnace even at night.

For the last two days there has been nothing but windswept open areas. We haven’t found shelter because there’s nothing other than collapsed structures that at one time had been someone’s home, but now are nothing more than scattered rubble.

It’s like something blew everything around here clear off their foundations. There have been no abandoned cars along the crumbling road.

Seeing the very decomposed or skeletal remains of the passengers as I trudge by them would be a welcome site at this point.

As far as I can see, there’s nothing but minimal indications of long ago burnt vegetation. That may mean this had been cleared farmland. This being a rural area could explain why there is nothing out here, but it could also mean that I am nearing something horrible.

I am leaning on something horrible because this looks like another planet. One that looks like it never had the ability to maintain life.

I clearly went the wrong way. I like to pretend I’m smart, but that’s just one of my many issues. I lie to myself all the time and I always have.

Smart people don’t propel themselves blindly, teleporting forward twelve years in time to escape a life that can never be escaped, only to go so far that they end up at the end of the world, too pathetically weak to function and with no fucking clue how to get themselves back.

Yup. Stupid.

Maybe I am getting better with this whole lying to myself thing if I am openly admitting that.

“What do you think, Dolores, am I getting better owning up to my vast supply of shortcomings?” My voice comes out hardly a whisper on my cracked lips. I don’t even turn to look at her. I don’t have the energy.

‘I think we are in trouble. We need to turn around before it’s too late.’

Dolores ignores my ill-timed attempt at humor. She sounds scared, and she is right about turning around.

She never lies.

This was not where I meant to end up in a world where I’m the last living creature among the other few scurrying insects, and not to wherever the hell I am at, which is maybe still somewhere in bumfuck Pennsylvania.

Arrogance as my perpetual guide, and despite her warning, I keep on walking, dragging her along.

Depending on how you look at our codependent situation, she has to follow me. I like to pretend it’s willingly, but even as convoluted as I can make things in my brain, even I know the truth about that , but like usual, I am good at ignoring the truth. No wonder Dolores didn’t find that funny.

No wonder she is scared.

Since day one, Dolores has been unwavering in her vow to stay by my side, and to be whatever I need her to be. But now, as her partner and her only friend, and because we share much more than a platonic love at this point, it’s not fair of me to cause her so much distress. As I slowly pull her along, I can feel her worried eyes looking at my back and I hate that in doing this to myself, I’m doing it to her too.

“I’ll go just a little further, up over this next high ridge.” My torn fingers slipping out from under my waist strap, I point to what I mean, which isn’t more than another quarter mile.

My arm flops at my side after only having lifted it for the briefest moment. I don’t even bother to push down on the handles again or to slip it back under the strap before lurching along again.

“If I don’t see anything promising at that point, then I’ll turn back,” I reassure as my eyes scan the horizon ahead and the heat ripples off the ground cause the image in front of me to blur.

I know I took a wrong turn somewhere days ago, but that’s just it, in the apocalypse, every turn is wrong. It’s only by luck that I ever find anything helpful, like food, or any other supplies that might keep me alive. Even looking in obvious places, like in ruins of what was once a grocery store, or a pharmacy, can turn up next to nothing. It all depends on how damaged the area is. As we are finding, since we left the city and moved away from the devastated coastline, destruction seems to be everywhere, but this area is the worst I have ever seen.

It figures that when I finally venture out beyond the usual 100-mile radius I’ve been scavenging for the last five years that I’d go in the one direction that led me to this.

Road signs are sometimes still there, sometimes not, and even with maps for navigating it is hard, and that’s because almost nothing looks the same. 'Welcome to this town' signs are a huge help, but they are also a cruel reminder of the amount of life lost in each empty civilization I come across. Many signs are simply gone like everything else.

One big empty world, and to make things worse, now I think I’m lost in the wasteland.

I am in the middle of nowhere of Nowheresville and I don’t know what else to do besides keep walking.

I’ll certainly die if I stop.

“I know you’re scared, sweetheart. I will be okay; I promise I won’t leave you.” This time, my attempt to make Dolores feel better about my deteriorating condition is only in my head, and this time my reply isn’t just to her.

My mind is only half here on this desolate stretch of nothing. At least I’m aware of it, so that must mean I’m not fully hallucinating, which is great news. I do that frequently, and it’s for various reasons, like accidental high level food poisoning, fevers, being offensively drunk, general craziness, you name it.

When I say that I’m not leaving them, I mean my siblings too.

I never stop seeing the faces of the people I love but regarded with so much indifference.

Their blank and bloodied expressions, some crushed almost beyond recognition, some charred almost black, they all stare up at me from the remains of our burning home as I scramble to dig them free.

I never stop trying to tell them that I’m sorry, but they never reply.

They can’t because they are all dead and so is everyone else.

I’ll admit, I am not just dehydrated. I have an infection from that damn gash. The antibiotic I’m taking must not be good anymore.

The worms spill out of Allison’s broken skull as I pull her along to bury her with the rest of my family, but even that doesn’t make sense. They weren’t rotting when I found them. The rot came later.

Somehow even though it’s been years since this smell filled the air, I am hit with surges of smokey burning flesh, the scent coating my tongue, making my stomach instantaneously roar with sickening nausea but also ravenous hunger.

Nearly falling this time, I trip causing my injured foot to twist in an unnatural way. As I try to swallow my body’s attempts at forcing a dry heave, it’s with no saliva to help it along and the desert in my throat nearly chokes me. I cough on the upthrust of bile, the pitiful sounds of my gags are as weak as I feel.

I painfully stumble over my own feet, but manage to stay upright, swaying as I force my eyes off the quivering ground. I try focusing them instead on an area of broken road a few feet in front of me. One foot in front of the other, I keep moving, eyes ahead this time so I don’t fall over another large crack in the road.

My mind screams at me. ‘They aren’t here. You buried them years ago! Focus or you are never going to make it. You have to make it back; that’s all that matters.’

Dizzy, and confused, I try to remember again why Dolores and I are here. My plan was to search outside the city for anything to make our life easier. Something like a more forgiving weather pattern for example. Surviving the first several years in a suffocating nuclear winter and then the actual winters after that with only a handmade shelter and a sea of broken concrete around me has been working, but there must be places that were left in better, more livable conditions.

I can’t get physically strong enough to get back if I am starving all the time. I can’t get back if I freeze in the next few months when winter hits us again. I can run my numbers and figures, calculating the ways I can get back to them from anywhere. Being a few blocks from my childhood home, so close to the red waters of the toxic ocean while living in the ruins of the city library isn’t getting me any closer to them.

Dolores and I have been walking for forty-six days, seven hours, and thirty-six minutes, and my plan had been going fairly well until a week ago. Getting us away from the densely populated coast proved an okay move until I found myself in a very rural area, lost, and in the middle of a major weather change that I had no way of predicting.

After hardly surviving our last brutal winter, I thought there was nothing worse than the bitter cold, but right now, with my body literally cooking and no way to get out of the heat, I am finding that it may have been a major miscalculation to come so far into the unknown.

The valuable liquid remaining in my body is abandoning me in sheets of sweat again and that is just another not good sign.

Neither is the unexpected view of what appears to be a gigantic hole in the Earth. It covers the landscape as far and wide as my eyes can see. As I slowly make my way towards it, the road ends. There’s no more blacktop. It’s just dirt.

I can just make out the edge of the crater. The bottom of the abyss is empty as the rest of my world.

Just one massive hell.

“Dol-or-es… I messed-up ag-ah-in. Um-so- I shoo-d ha..ve listen-”

Just before the ground slants at an impossible angle, an angle that looks like it’s coming way too close to my face, that’s the thought that I can’t articulate that takes me away into the darkness.

I should have listened to her, only I don’t mean Dolores.

Chapter Two: Rain

After that weird exchange with that girl on the street, an unfamiliar excitement filled me. I wanted to read the note, but I couldn’t because we were still supposed to be smiling for the cameras. Then after our final group picture for the press, we were loaded into our waiting cars.

Klaus flopped himself down on the back seat next to me, causing me to have to move in the middle, which I knew was coming.

Not a second later, Diego took the remaining space to my right, glaring at me resentfully. “I mean it, man. That hot chick wasn’t trying to throw that letter to you. Just give it over. Why do you even want it? It’s not like you like girls or anyone else for that matter.”

I stared straight forward, my lips smugly pulled to the side. “I think that girl most certainly intended for me to get her little love letter and just like always, you are jealous of me.”

“Fivey you like girls, don’t you?” The way Klaus asked it and looked at me, it’s like he really thought that’s what this was about.

It wasn't.

Diego snorted out an obnoxious laugh as he pushed his knees into the back of Luther’s seat in front of him, while also taking up even more of my room in the middle.

“Five, doesn’t feel anything for anyone and if he did happen to swing the direction of the ladies, he wouldn’t have a clue what to do with one, especially not a total fox like that. Did you see those legs in that outfit, dude?”

Luther piped in his two cents worth next. “I did.” He turned back with his big muscular arm on the console so he could face us. “And Five, yeah, really? Diego’s surprisingly right for a change. What’s the deal with that letter? You could care less about our fangirls or guys, not that I’m saying it matters if you like guys or girls or whatever,” he blabbered.

Klaus laughed, interrupting Luther’s attempt to belittle me or support me or whatever that was supposed to be. “Oh...buddy, I saw them too, and though I don’t usually get a boner over the more delicate of the stems dancing around in this garden of life, I’ll admit, that girl was something, and I’d make an exception to stick it in her any day.”

At this point, I noticed our hired driver looking back at me through the rearview mirror with a look of disgust in his eyes. I supposed that this was not what he was expecting from the world's infamous superheroes. Turns out, the joke was on him and everyone else because we were way more immature and even more emotionally stunted than your average teens.

“Dude, stop kidding yourself. You’d fuck anything with legs.”

“True,” Klaus agreed to which Luther mumbled something apologetically to the driver.

Fuck me, I wished I was in the other car even though that meant I’d be with dad. My jaw twitched as I tried to ignore all the idiocy. The car pulled out, and rather than acknowledge the two morons or answer Klaus’s question, I looked out, hoping to see the girl again.

My hand wrapped tighter around the letter in my pocket, my smile returning as I thought about how she looked at me, and how mad they all were about it.

After sitting for a debriefing with The Monocle, one that was filled with ridicule even though we completed the bank mission successfully, we all sat for our usual mostly silent dinner, and then finally after hours of waiting to be alone, we were released and allowed to go to our rooms for the night.

I didn’t hesitate. In a flash, I was in my bedroom located in the third-floor attic space. Rushing out of my portal, moving a few steps to my desk, I pulled the chain on my lamp, filling the small room with warm yellow light.

My shaky fingers carefully worked open the letter as I sat down in front of my piles of notes and books. The kiss imprint was placed over the seal, but I did my best not to ruin it.

For as little as I thought or cared about girls, right then, you’d hardly believe it. I felt so unlike myself. My heart was racing as I unfolded the piece of paper inside.

Reading the first line, my heart felt like it stopped altogether.

Holy shit. She did write it for me. I was just being a jerk about all that, but…

What in the…

What is that supposed to mean?

My mind raced with the implications of the words, ‘I promise I will make it worth your while.’

I flipped the envelope, looking down at the red kiss she left me.

Did she like me? Like, like, like me?

I felt stupid even thinking about that question, but I couldn’t help it. It was like I was pissing brain cells and turning into Diego.

Our fans were known to pick favorites and collect our little plastic figurines and buy our posters, but I never thought I was one of those coveted idols, or that I was anything like my brothers when it came to irrelevant things like girls and who they ‘liked.’

The idea of this girl having pictures of me in her dorm room made my face feel hot.

She couldn’t get me out of her head…

Meticulously showering every part of my body and fighting for room in our shared sink area to finish my nightly routine didn’t help calm me down. Lying in bed trying to forget the letter and the girl was getting me nothing but more antsy.

It’s not like I never thought about girls. Diego was wrong about that. I was a teenager with rampant hormones running through me that caused intense feelings that occasionally couldn't be denied. When that was the case, I quickly took care of matters and moved on, nothing more.

I knew it was normal bodily function for someone my age to be stimulated with the simplest of things and end up with a hard on, or to experience the wonders of morning wood or mid-night wood accompanied by arousing dreams that seemingly come out of nowhere. I wasn't embarrassed by my need to pleasure myself. Like everything else, I approached it practically and efficiently, taking things into my own hands (or literally into my own hand as it were), and then after letting go of some of my millions of thoughts and a little bodily fluid I didn’t need, I was free of all that again.

Not everyone in this household was as discreet about their masturbation sessions. I had walked in on Klaus too many times to count while he was in the showers going at it. He may be a lot of things, completely uninhibited being one of them, but at least he cared enough to know that I was attracted to women not men. The shower thing with him and I and my blasé reaction to him jerking himself in there very frequently while I was in there too was probably part of that, but clearly my other siblings weren’t sure which way I ‘swung’ as they put it.

I couldn’t really blame them for their jokes. I never joined Klaus when he snuck out to meet our groupies for whatever they did together, but I had heard him and Diego going on and on about their various supposed exploits that they each have made when it came to those types of things that were intimate in nature. As much as I hated to admit it, if I had tried to talk to them about it, I am not sure what I would have said. They were right, I didn’t know anything about girls other than the basics that we learned in anatomy and physiology. And I was not intimate about anything unless you counted getting smacked in the face or getting choked out as intimate.

I hated not knowing things.

Fuck Diego and his teasing, and screw Luther and his perfect ‘I’m better looking than you’ thing he was born with. The more I lay there, the more I felt like I had to go meet the girl. I was curious what it was all about, but to be fully honest, I wanted to go because I thought that I knew what this was about and simply meeting me wasn't all she wanted.

This was my first chance to be around a girl alone that wasn’t one of my sisters. Who knew what could happen. Maybe something good?

At eleven fifty-five. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had looked at my window about a million times thinking about those red lips and that picture perfect smile. Just the letter afforded me major bragging rights but meeting her and the rest of it that could happen, yeah.

I had to go or I'd drive myself crazy wondering what I'd missed.

Springing from my bed, inelegantly tripping over my own feet while on my way to my wardrobe, I tore off my cotton sleep pants and t-shirt.

Flinging the doors open revealed what I knew all too well. I had nothing other than academy uniforms to call my own. With a cursed fuck it, I mechanically dressed as I always do, my practiced hands neatly pushing up the knot on my tie before pulling my vest down over the top of my stupid shorts. Knee socks and shined black shoes on, I was the picture of… Well… Myself, I guess.

Looking in the mirror, I threaded my fingers through my hair making sure it was lying flipped to the side like I preferred.

Glancing at my clock showed that I had exactly four minutes.

Blinking myself down to the street was nothing. If I really wanted to, I could blink blocks away or even further, but to do that, first I would need to know the coordinates of where I’m trying to land, or I would at least need to be able to see it or have been there before. I had never been to the corner of 25th and Park, but I knew approximately where it was, and if I wanted to get there in time, teleporting was the only way.

That was not super brilliant if I was shooting for blending in since I was dressed in my well-known Umbrella Academy uniform and I was going to have to use my power, but I had no other option. That blunder alone proved how little I was ready for the real world and how different I was to normal people.

By that late hour, the streets were thankfully mostly free of pedestrians near the Academy, but I knew that wouldn’t be the case closer to downtown.

Making sure to land out of sight, I blinked a block at a time, heading towards my destination. Each spatial jump left me feeling energized, with not even a hint of fatigue. Dad would be proud of me for that if not for the fact that I'd just snuck out of his house.

It took me nine blinks to get there, but even then, I wasn’t unsteady when my feet hit the pavement of the alley a block down from where the girl was supposed to be waiting for me.

It’s then that I noticed a storm was coming. The faint flashes of light followed by the sound of rumbling thunder were letting me know that our little rendezvous couldn't be outside unless it was very short.

Again, the reality of her waiting for me hit home. All of a sudden, I was not so sure of myself. I had no idea who she was or what this was really about. Even if this resulted in me finally having some experience with the opposite sex, this wasn't a good enough reason to do this. It’s not like I’d brag to my dumbass brothers about it if something did happen with the girl. I also could just lie and pretend I met up with her. I was no storyteller but I was sure I could come up with something that would make my brothers just a little less full of themselves when it came to me and my lack of knowledge as it pertained to girls.

What I was doing was so stupid and I knew it, but I couldn't help myself.

Glancing down the street, I didn't see her, but I did see other people. This area wasn't nearly as upscale as the block and surrounding properties of the upper east side where I lived. Here, there were cheap bars and clubs on each block, and the homeless were front and center nearly everywhere you looked.

Why would she ask me to meet her here?

As a man with a grizzly beard and a cart pushed past me from down the alley, he asked me for some change. I told him I didn't have any money, which was sadly true.

As he cussed me out and moved on, I found that I was really starting to regret my hasty decision to come, but that's when I saw her. I didn’t know how I missed her at first. It might have been because she was sitting on the sidewalk with her back against the darkened window of the corner store.

With a black baseball cap pulled down low as she played the guitar sitting in her lap, I just thought she was one of the many street people sitting out panhandling.

Ignoring the next guy asking me for change and the strange looks of a couple that staggered past me, I stepped out of the shadowed side street to get a better look at the red haired girl.

Sure enough, it was her. I could see that long braid, same as before, slung over her shoulder. She was dressed totally differently, not that I expected her to be wearing that short schoolgirl skirt, but I also didn’t imagine faded cargo pants, combat boots, and the baggy sweatshirt.

I could just make out the sound of strings being strum and the faintest sound of a female voice as I watched her.

Curiously, I felt drawn to her despite my new reservations. That was until a man stopped and dropped a few bills into the guitar case at her feet. She looked up, her smile of thanks as bright and warm as the one she'd given me earlier that day.

I stopped advancing, and my jaw dropped.

Tucked in tightly at her side was a duffle bag. The same kind that all the people out there seemed to have on them.

It dawned on me that she was homeless.

Why else would she be out here that time of night playing for money? I had so many questions, only one being, why wouldn’t her parents care where she was?

I couldn’t take my eyes off her as I back pedaled. Due to my inattention, my back ran right into a guy that looked like he could stomp me into the ground if he wasn’t so drunk, or if I couldn’t just as easily drop him in less than a second flat thanks to Reginald and his constant training.

I was in a daze as he shoved me aside and yelled, "Get the fuck out of the way kid!”

As I staggered, I heard her soft voice.

“Five?”

My neck snapped back her way.

Oh shit.

Righting myself, I stopped mid step in my retreat, but even as she stared at me, like a coward, I blinked away.

This time when I landed, it was with much less grace. I fell out of my portal, back on my ass, catching myself before my head slammed into the air conditioning unit behind me. Panting from shock and the jump to the rooftop across the street, I edged myself to the ledge of the building to look down at her.

She was standing there with her guitar in hand, motionless as she looked at the spot I had been standing in.

She raised a hand, rubbing her cheek as she frowned.

I felt like a first-class piece of shit.

I didn’t even talk to her but I thought I was more than willing to do other things with her that did not involve talking. Who does that? What was wrong with me?

I felt disgusted but I quickly swallowed it down.

Even sitting there knowing what I just did looked bad for so many reasons, I remained frozen as I watched her slowly turn around and begin to pack up her things. She crouched, taking the bills and change out of the case, stuffing her loot in the front pocket of her hoodie. Then, snapping closed the hard leather case, she didn’t so much as look back in the direction I had been before she took off down the street.

The first of the raindrops were beginning to hit the ground, pelting my hair and my shoulders. Instinctually, I pulled my academy jacket tighter around my middle even though it wasn't that cold.

The area we were in was nowhere near that private school whose uniform she was wearing, and she wasn't heading in the direction of where there was any housing that I was aware of.

I followed her.

I needed to know if I was right. A part of me, one that I didn’t want to admit was there but very much drove me in everything, needed to prove that she was not someone I should be associating with. I knew that sounded bad, but it was the truth I had been raised to believe. People like me didn’t talk with people like her.

Making sure to stay back so she couldn't see me, I went after her. She led me a few blocks away to an even more dilapidated and industrial looking area of the city that was not far from the docks. That was where I saw her enter what looked like an abandoned building. I knew it was not in use because it was boarded up. The only reason the girl got inside was because she knew that one of the boards was only being held on by one nail so she could swing it aside and disappear in the darkness.

I was right.

Why I didn’t stop there, I still don’t know.

Waiting just a few minutes to make sure she didn’t come back out, I entered the building the same way she did. It was nearly pitch black inside at first. My eyes had not adjusted to the dark because the boards were blocking most of the streetlights from shining inside the entire ground floor. When I could see, all around me was garbage and what looked like old moldy couch cushions and things that people must have used at one time or another while they squatted in there. But other than the obvious drug paraphernalia that showed at one time others had been using the place, the floor was quiet, and the girl was nowhere to be seen.

I knew she came in, and I didn’t see her come out, so I kept on looking. It wasn’t until I reached the top floor, by way of taking the stairs and blinking myself along when things didn’t look safe, that I heard her and the sound of water trickling as it made its way in through hidden parts of the building. Even with that and the sound of the hard rain falling on the roof, I could tell that she was singing again.

She had a very nice voice.

This floor of the building was like the others, only it wasn’t as dirty and it looked like no one ever ventured this far inside. From what I'd seen, the building should be and probably was condemned, and nobody should be there, but yet she was.

Unable to drop it even though I knew I was right; curiosity drove me closer to the sound of her voice softly echoing through the large mostly open floor.

The closer I got to her, the more I could hear the rain. It sounded like it was pouring down, splashing against something.

As I crept closer, my shoes ever so quiet on the gritty floor, I saw what appeared to be a small office enclosure off to the side of what was probably at one time a busy workspace full of factory workers.

Peering inside the glass windows, I could see her bag and her guitar case, but she was not there. I moved around the barrier into what appeared to be her makeshift home. I noticed mats laid out on the floor, made up like a bed and the blankets wrapped in plastic to keep them semi-clean. There were personal items, dozens of candles, and small stacks of books, the titles I couldn’t make out in the darkness.

It was bizarre, all of it was but her voice felt like it drew me to her. The beauty of the vaguely familiar French lyrics, ones of love, happiness and the beauty of life, rather than sadness and being utterly alone in a dirty warehouse in the murky darkness, were creating a strange sort of paradox of contradictions.

♫ Quand il me prend dans ses bras (Hold me close and hold me fast)

Qu'il me parle tout bas (The magic spell you cast)

Je vois la vie en rose (To see life in pink...) ♫

I knew that I could escape again in less than a second, and I knew that she was just around the other wall of windows. I could see her now, but it was clear that she couldn’t see me.

Her body was outlined by the ever-present city lights coming in from outside.

It looked like she was…

I couldn’t tell.

Brave or stupid, I came closer, moving around the farther side of the office enclosure.

Like a statue frozen in place, my eyes felt glued to the scene before me.

The rain was cascading down from a hole in the ceiling, one that wasn’t much bigger than a few feet but had clearly been there long enough to cause the roof to bend down near it due to rot.

The girl named Phoebe, was under the sparkling spray and she was completely naked.

Her arms were up over her head, drawing her hair back from her face as she angled it up, reveling in the chilly stream as bubbles slipped over the mounds of her breasts, down her flat stomach, and between her legs where they chose a path down either of her milky white legs.

I could smell the faint scent of the soap she held in her hand, the feminine rosy scent of it a stark contrast to the musty building around us.

Her calf muscles balled up as she rose on her toes as if she might just fly away. She looked like some kind of otherworldly angel that was above all the decay around her.

Her eyes were closed, and she didn’t open them as her hands slid down her body, rubbing the sudsy bar slowly over her chest with one hand while the other slid down between her legs.

I was in a trance as I watched this, fully aware that the sight was causing things to stir in me in places they shouldn’t, but I was unable to stop myself from looking. I didn’t even realize I had made an embarrassingly throaty sound until her eyes flew open, their piercing aim falling directly on me.

After the initial shock of seeing that she was being ogled by a perverted voyeur, those lupine eyes narrowed and that seductive looking smile of hers thankfully appeared.

“Five! You came back!”

She actually looked happy about that fact, and not at all bothered that I was still staring at her.

When I said nothing, the girl reached up to her towel that was hanging on nail sticking out of a pillar, not even fully wrapping it around her as she rushed my way.

“I thought you changed your mind. I am so happy you didn't," she chirped.

Now that she was standing right in front of me, dripping wet, with those eyes peering up at me and her towel dangling in front of her, I could see something else going on in her expression, but I didn't understand it. I just couldn’t put a finger on it. But she did put a finger on me.

I watched it happen as if in slow motion. She reached out and touched my arm, gently pulling me with her back towards the crude area where she slept.

"Come on," she whispered, and her touch and the sound of her voice sent waves of heat over my already burning skin.

Even if I had wanted to blink away from her at that point, my body wouldn’t let me.

Link to chapters Three and Four

Poor Five, so broken...

Thanks for joining me for another one of my Five-centric stories. The next post is coming soon but if you can't wait, click below.

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