ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ. <<FIVE HARGREEVES X READER>>

11

"I've been waiting for two hours." Allison complained, "I'd like to know what's happened to my husband."

Her and (Y/n) both were at the police station. But since (Y/n) was wanted for murder, she was invisible and holding the back of Allison's clothes so she knew she was still there. While they were driving there, they each caught eachother up to speed on what had happened to each of them during their time apart. Some were laughs and some were tears. Both enjoyable though.

"Name?" The officer asked as he blew the dust off of his newly sharpened pencil, scratching off a word in his crossword puzzle.

"Chestnut. Raymond Chestnut." Allison repeated for what seemed like the millionth time.

"He's here." The officer answered while still not looking up from his puzzle, "in processing."

That was the same thing they've been told for the past two hours. It made both of the sisters' blood boil. (Y/n) would've strangled the man until he let them in if it weren't for her being a fugitive.

"Yes, I know." Number Three said, trying to contain her anger through gritting her teeth. "I would like to speak to him."

"You his lawyer?"

"No," Allison snarked with her voice now raised, "I'm his wife."

"Then I can't help you." The officer answered, "take a seat." Still not looking up from his puzzle.

(Y/n) couldn't take this any longer, she was going to go around and punch him invisibly, but as soon as Allison felt her let go, she grabbed the back of her shirt.

"Take a seat." The officer repeated, still not looking up.

"Honour and dignity." Allison muttered under her breath, "honour and dignity."

They took a seat, but (Y/n) had to sit on the floor infront of Allison so it didn't look weird by Number Three sitting next to an empty seat.

(Y/n) fidgeted with her shadows and floated the mug in her hand out of annoyance. Why on earth would people treat other people this way based off of skin colour? It was so stupid. Who even came up with this shit anyway? This is the type of stuff that drives (Y/n) to murder. Clearly.

Allison subtly poked her sister, "you can leave now." She whispered without moving her mouth.

(Y/n) stood up and looked at her, not that she knew. "I'm not just gonna leave you here, Allison. That's rude." She whispered back.

Allison held out a piece of paper with her two fingers and sneakily held it out for her sister. "This is my address. Take it, and come back later when I'm out of here." She said, whispering with her mouth still not moving.

(Y/n) took the paper and shoved it into her Jean pocket, "are you sure you'll be okay? Because I have nothing better to do than wait here-"

"Go on, (Y/n)." Allison insisted, looking around to make sure no one was watching her talk to air. "I'll see you later, okay? And don't die."

"On it." (Y/n) nodded, "love you, sis."

"Love you."

(Y/n) then turned and walked out of the station. She felt bad, sure. But being there was hell. Allison's husband better be worth Allison waiting there for that long, Eight thought. But for now, she had a mug to return. And more siblings to find.