His Only Fear - Five Hargreeves x |Fem| Reader

I Should've Helped You

"All our faces are burnt off," she said in disgust.

"Well that's not creepy," Diego muttered.

"Not at all," you said, looking around the room. There were photos and figurines of the Umbrella Academy members everywhere - with their faces scratched out, burnt off, or colored black.

There were even a few of you.

"This guy's got some serious issues."

"Shit," all of you breathed at the same time. You glanced over to see Five swaying on his feet as Allison spoke.

"This was never about Vanya," she said. Five gasped softly, his hand holding his stomach as he continued wobbling. He breathed heavily, looking down, and you quickly stepped closer. "This was about us." 

"Five?" you asked, ignoring Allison, and your eyes locked for a split second before he let out a sigh and began to fall backward. You raced behind him, managing to slow his descent, but he fell so heavily that you stumbled backward, falling onto your butt with him laid across your legs.

"Five. Wh-" Allison began as Five groaned, his hand clutching his stomach.

"Shit, Five," you breathed, struggling to keep your voice steady as Allison pulled his shirt back, revealing a wound that had soaked his stomach with blood. He breathed out heavily, and you looked away, swallowing hard and gripping his hand tightly.

"Jesus, Five," Diego mumbled, staring at the shrapnel wound. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"You have to keep going," Five rasped, and you propped his head up in your arms, hot tears building behind your eyes. "So... close."

"Like hell!" you said, heart freezing when he stopped moving. "Five? Five!" You slapped his cheek lightly, but he didn't respond. "Shit, shit, shit."

You sucked in a shaky breath, looking to your siblings for help.

"We have to get him home," you insisted. "Or... to a hospital. Now!"

"Calm down," Diego hissed, standing up and scooping him into his arms. "Get in the car. Both of you."

Allison wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close as you all ran to the car.

"He'll be fine," she promised, brushing away a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "We'll get him home and fix him up, Eight."

You nodded slowly, sliding into the back and watching as Diego tossed Five in next to you.

"Careful!" you spit, and suddenly Five was slumping over onto your lap again. You scooted as close to the door as you could get in order to give him more room, holding his head in your lap as Diego peeled out of the driveway. "Why didn't you tell me?" you whispered, carefully brushing his hair off of his forehead. "I could've helped you. I should've helped you, damn it."

You glanced at his blood-soaked uniform, biting your lip so hard it hurt.

"You're going to be ok," you murmured, continuing to sweep his hair back, away from his warm forehead.

When you arrived at the house, Allison had to help Diego carry Five in thanks to his sling. You followed behind anxiously, wishing you could do more to help.

"We really should've taken him to the hospital," you said, swiping at your eyes again.

"Yeah, well, a kid with a shrapnel wound might raise some questions," Five murmured, and you gasped.

"You're awake?"

"So does the murder shrine in Harold Jenkins' attack," Diego said, moving past the fact that Five had woken up. They set him on the couch, and he groaned in pain.