Hannah awoke by the muffled noise of sniffles. She turned over in the bed, hoping to get more rest. But there was more sniffing. She turned her head slightly, and saw Five huddled in the corner of the room, in a little ball-
Crying..?
His hair was messed up, his chest moved up and down at a rapid, unhealthy pase, tears fell down his face quickly, and his nose was a little runny, along with messed up hair. He had his head hidden in his legs so she would see him. Her eyebrows knotted, in worry, she quickly untangled herself from the blanket. "Five?" She questioned, concerned.
He peeked up and saw her rushing towards him. "Sh!t, I-I'm fine." He mumbled, wiping his runny nose with the collar of his vest. It was very clear he wasn't fine, his voice was shakey and scratchy.
"No your not," She whispered, as he held his breath to hold a back a sob.
He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, squeezing his eyes shut, and pulling his hair, almost hard enough to pull it out.
Her eyes widened as his panic got worse. "Five, what's going on?" She asked sitting in front of him, and trying to make her voice smooth and calm.
"I- I cant- I dont- What If it- ugh!" He groaned, hitting his head against the wall not being able to get words out. This gave Hannah a clear view of his face, and it broke her heart. His eyes were red, and puffy. His skin was red from wiping it so much. Hannah knew she had to help him, he always helped her as a child.
Never, ever, ever, in her life had she seen Five cry. And, to be honest, from the moment she saw it, she knew she hated it.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" He mumbled, not daring to look at her. She knew he felt embarrassed at her seeing him like this. The Hargreeves had always been taught that opening up was a weakness.
She put both of her hands on either side of his knee. "Fi, what are you sorry about.
"I-" He breathed, breaths growing more ragged by the minute. The girl had never seen him do anything like this before.
Hannah figured he was having a panic attack about something. PTSD?
"I'm a monster!" He sobbed.
"Your not a monster," She quickly replied, looking into his eyes, showing him affection just by her eyes.
A tear fell down his face once more, "Five, I promise you. Your the best person I know."
"I- I am a monster. I'm a horrible person and-" He sighed.
"a murder" his thoughts whispered.
Hannah smiled at him sadly and shook her head. "You're not a murderer." She assured him, and he frowned at her. "Stop reading my thoughts! Don't ever, try to get inside my head." He shouted slightly, and Hannah looked at him, taken aback. A few beats passed, and his eyes softened slightly, "It's too dark for you."
She wiped the tear off his cheek, and his body tensed as he watched her hand. "Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway," She muttered. He looked at her, at a loss for words. "Now, what's this really about?"
He looked at his shaking fingertips, and took a deep breath, and swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't think I can do it." He whispered.
"Do what?"
He blinked, "Save the world."
She frowned. Hannah wanted to tell him how much she believed him, how she knew he would be able to do it. But she didn't want to give him hope then it turns out not working.
"Come here," She whispered, taking the crying boy by surprise by hugging him tightly.
A few minutes went by of him crying in her arms. He calmed down slightly, the tears starting to dry on his face. He leaned his head against her shoulder, enjoying her embrace. "This feels nice," He muttered, Hannah could tell by his voice he was smiling. "I haven't been hugged in years," He told her, staring into nothing. "I think I forgot what human contact felt like.." He whispered.
Hannah smiled, holding him tighter as he snuggled into her. "You didn't miss much," She chuckled. "Our family was never the touchy-feely type."
"Yeah," He muttered, looking up at her. She looked back at him, the same boy she loved 15 years ago. "Do you mind if we.. stay like this for a little longer?"