WITCH. five hargreeves [1]

four. battles

EDITED MAY 19, 2021

Clutched in her bed with her hand desperately holding onto her wrist, Eight Hargreeves let out a hiss of pain for what felt like the millionth time that day. No matter how long it had already been, each day felt like the same - tingling pain that she just couldn't get herself to ignore.

All this rage was directed at Reginald, and at no one else. The girl couldn't really comprehend why he had them get those tattoos at such a young age. It wasn't like their arms would disappear the moment they would turn 18, right? Was it really necessary for them to get it when they were barely teenagers?

Eight looked at Five. He seemed to be calm and collected, unlike her. The girl tried to make herself calm down as well, to ignore the burning pain, but another wave of pain rung throughout her arm, and she hissed once more.

"I hate him!"

"Don't we all?" Five asked rhetorically, leaning on his bed.

Eight sat upright and positioned herself cross-legged on the boy's bed. It had been a few months after Hargreeves had forced them to get the tattoos. Unfortunately, Five and Eight's wounds still wouldn't heal, along with Ben and Diego's. The red tinge still wouldn't disappear, and the constant pain hasn't vanished. Missions with the tattoos were pretty tough since they weren't able to put their full attention to the mission because of the constant tingling.

But Five was here acting all high and mighty, his pride too high to admit that he was also, in fact, struggling with the constant pain.

"You know, Hargreeves is an ass." Eight stated.

"Attention, number eight. We will have a one on one training today. Please show your presence immediately in the training room."

Looking up from his book, Five shot her a small, knowing smile. "Speak of the devil."

Eight groaned in annoyance and stood up from Five's bed. Every training session was like hell for her, the number of scars and bruises in her body being a constant reminder of how much Reginald loved to push her limits. It was painful, and she absolutely despised one on one training days, but it wasn't like she had a choice.

After a few minutes of changing and mumbling to herself, still in annoyance, Eight showed up at the training room.

When she had arrived, Diego was also in there, fear was evident in his eyes. Eight shuddered, those were the same eyes that time when...

"You and number two will be battling with each other, however with no use of powers." Hargreeves stated.

Eight's face fell. The sadness she felt turn into rage.

"Sir, I am not going to battle my brother."

"Silence, number eight. You will do as I say. Your attitude is irritating." Hargreeves stated, writing down something in the board he always brought during trainings. His eyes were plain and emotionless, as usual. Not bothering or caring about the fact that he's making his two children fight each other.

"No, Hargreeves!" Eight screamed. "You know what's irritating? The fact that you're always forcing Diego and I to fight each other, but guess what? We don't want to! You treat us like shit! What are we, animals?! Do we really need to fight each other just to show that one of us is stronger?! You always do this! You never give us time to rest! Guess what sir, I'm tired! I'm tired and I cannot stand hurting my brother anymore! So please, just please, stop pitting us against each other!"

The whole house was silent. Luther and Alison were on the couch outside, but they could clearly hear what Eight had just screamed. Five was standing near the doorway, listening. Ben and Klaus were in the kitchen making sandwiches, but Eight's loud voice was still heard up to that place. Grace had stopped sweeping the floor for a moment. Pogo could see and hear everything through the surveillance cameras.

Hargreeves took a deep breath. "Very well, then. Number Eight and Number Two, follow me." He led them to a door that was at the other side of the house. He pushed them both inside, then spoke in the intercom, where everyone would hear.

"You two will not be leaving that room unless you battle each other. Pogo will provide you food, and this will take as long as you resist to follow my orders."

"N-no." Diego stuttered out. "P-p-please, n-no."

"Let us out!" Eight screamed, banging onto the door. "Let us out, please!" she kept on banging repeatedly. It was a soundproof room, nobody could hear them from the outside. Even the door was made out of some sort of weird material, which stopped it from emitting any kind of sound.

"Let us out, let us out, let us out... please." Eight was full on crying now. This was a huge shock to Diego, since he had never saw her cry. Not even when they were forced to have tattoos.

Eight turned to face Diego. "I'm sorry, Diego." her voice cracked. "I shouldn't have screamed at dad. I'm so sorry." teardrops begun to fall down from her face. Diego shushed her and pulled her into a hug, which took Eight by surprise at first, but she let the hug engulf her.

The pair just sat there, hugging and crying. Many hours after that, Pogo had entered the room with his face full of guilt. He put down a tray that was supposed to be their dinner.

"Tell Hargreeves, we're going to fight each other now." Diego stated. Him and Eight had came to an agreement after all those hours of crying. They didn't want to hurt each other, but they most definitely did not want to get stuck in there for the rest of the year.

Pogo made a small, sad nod and left the room. After a few minutes of waiting, Hargreeves spoke into the intercom, instructing them to start.

And so they did.

-

Eight limped out of the room with a bruised eye, a bleeding lip, a bruised arm, a giant gash that went down from her elbow to the tip of her middle finger, and a bleeding foot.

Diego walked out of the room, with a giant scar on his face, a bruised leg, a bruised arm, a bleeding leg, and a giant bruise forming unto his knee.

The other children were waiting for them outside. And tears started to well in their eyes when they saw the state that both Diego and Eight were in.

Luther jumped in to help support Eight. "I'll bring Eight to mom, please bring Diego." he instructed to the others, who agreed on helping. Sure, Eight was a pain in the ass for Luther, but she was still family, and he couldn't stand seeing both of them like that.

"Oh no." Grace's robotic features turned into worry. "Please bring both of them up-to the beds." she instructed, setting down beds for each of them.

After she had took care of them, she advised that Diego and Eight would need to skip missions for the meantime. They needed rest.

Five nodded, took Eight out of the bed, and jumped into her room.

He slowly let Eight down onto the bed like she was the most fragile thing. Eight smiled at Five, who was still in constant worry.

"I'm okay, Five."

"You're not okay." Five sat on her bed. "I-I I cant believe him. He took it to far."

"He did." Eight agreed, but suddenly moaned in pain as she tried to move her leg to a comfortable position. Five started to panic. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

Eight shook her head. "You know Five, why are you so bitter around everyone, except for me?"

Five started to feel his face start to heat up. "You're special to me, Eight." was all he said. Eight nodded and gave him a small smile, then falling asleep instantly after that.

Five chuckled for a bit, then he stood up. "Goodnight, Eight." he whispered, then giving her a quick peck on her forehead. He stood up to leave the room, not before checking if everything was fine, then jumped back into his room, which was just next door.