Dysphoria- An Umbrella Academy Fanfiction

The Opticians (not really)

"It's...Lance."

"In about 60 seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door, and they're gonna see a whole lot of blood, and they're gonna wonder "What the hell happened?" and we're gonna tell them that you... beat the shit out of us." Klaus finished her sentence, dramatically.

"You're gonna do great in prison, Grant. Trust me, we've been there." Octavia gestured to Klaus as she continued talking.

"A little piece of chicken like you... oh, my God, you're gonna get passed around like a..." She couldn't find the words to explain exactly what he was going to get passed around like, but Klaus was swivelling his hips so she deducted he got the point and continued.

"You're just- you're gonna do great. That all I'm saying." She finished, giggling, putting her hands on her hips and letting go of his tie.

"Jesus, you are real sick bastards." The terrified doctor spoke up.

Octavia laughed, "Thank you." Her and Klaus said at the same time.

All three of them stared down the man, only stopping when Klaus had to spit some glass out from his mouth.

∆∆∆

Klaus was seated on top of the desk now, Octavia sitting on his lap, and Five sitting in the closest chair, all impatiently waiting for the man to finish rifling through his papers.

"Oh, that's strange." The man muttered.

Five's head snapped up.

"What?"

"Uh, the eye. It hasn't been purchased by a client yet."

Octavia jumped off her brothers lap and put her arms around the doctor.

"What? What do you mean?" She asked, looked concernedly at Five.

"Well, uh," The mans voice was still shaking, "Our logs say that the eye with that serial number..." Klaus hopped off the desk and put his arm around the side of the doctor that Octavia was not currently occupying. "It hasn't even been manufactured yet. Where did you get that eye?"

Five sighed.

∆∆∆

"I was pretty good, though, right? What about my consent, bitch?" Klaus said cheerfully as he and Octavia giggled.

"Klaus, it doesn't matter."

Octavia's smile dropped from her face.

"Oh cheer up baby...don't be such a downer." She drawled, putting her head on top of Five's and messing with his hair, "Whats's the deal with this eye anyways?" She continued. "And don't say its another apocalypse thing..."

Five rolled his eyes and started to walk away.

"Hey, can I get my 20 bucks, like, now, or what?" Klaus yelled at Five.

"You were getting paid for this shit?" Octavia scoffed and hit Five, although rather feebly.

"The apocalypse is coming and all you can think about is getting high?"

"Well, I'm also quite hungry, tummy's a-rumblin'." Klaus imitated a stomachs growls.

Octavia rubbed her eyes in discomfort as Five muttered something about them being useless.

She walked over to the steps of the opticians that wasn't really an opticians and sat her dizzy frame down on the cold step, trying to ground herself with the ice cold feeling of the step against her thighs.

She lit up a cigarette.

Five sat down beside her and put his hand over the top of hers.

It occurred to her that no-one but Klaus had any idea about her drug relapse since her most recent stint in rehab.

Octavia rested her head on Five's shoulder, as Klaus continued talking about horniness and whether Five was or was not experiencing it.

"I wasn't alone." Five spoke up, interrupting Klaus mid-rant.

"Oh?"

"Pray tell, brother dearest." Octavia said, her voice muffled by Five's uniform.

"Her name was Delores. We were together for over thirty years."

"Thirty years? Oh wow, the longest I've been with someone was...I don't know, three weeks? And it was only because I was so tired of looking for a place to sleep..."

Klaus continued, not realising Five had grabbed ahold of Octavia's hand and had teleported them away.

"You know, I think the longest I've been with someone was when I was with Vanya... I miss her Fivesy..." Octavia muttered, having also not realised that she had been teleported away and was now settled into the plush leather seats of a taxi.

"Yeah? You wanna go see her?" Five spoke in the way you would speak to a small child, realising his adopted sisters fragile state.

'I'd rather kill myself than see that wet paper towel of a person you call Vanya again'