Rainy Days

Chapter Nine: Brotherly Bonding; Whoop-Whoop

[jordans house—saturday morning]

JORDAN HAD been correct. At precisely ten fifty-eight, a woman with brown curls and eyes like Jordan's stumbled outside, obviously hungover. She stepped into a small car and drove away.

Five could only assume that had been his mother.

As the sun rose, its subdued golden glow  descended upon the world, tearing apart the silky midnight with a double-edged blade. The gentle touch of it turned everyone in the attic almost angelic. Even Diego, huddled up with a knife clutched in his hand and scowl on his face, looked sweet.

Five wished that they looked terrible, so he could make himself hate them. But he couldn't. (The joy of being a family.)

He hadn't slept all night except for a small forty-five minute nap. Even then, the nap had been restless and disturbed.

In the dream (more like nightmare) Hazel and Cha-Cha had been back, chasing him through the apocalypse. Klaus, Diego, Ben, Allison and Luther as adults kept on showing up, their faces torn and bloody; they shrieked in horrible, terrifying screams for him to jump through time, but he wouldn't because he was looking for something. Something important.

Vanya showed up too, eyes white and tuxedo on; her violin was screeching terribly, and she was smirking at him like she knew something he didn't. Often, Hazel and Cha-Cha followed her. He would realize what he was looking for, why he wouldn't jump; he was looking for Jordan.

Then he woke up. Now, his thoughts where plagued by Jordan, an enigma if there ever was. He was happy and bright, obviously smart, but was hiding something that boiled just beneath the surface. His constant stares where puzzling, especially because Five liked when he saw Jordan staring out of the corner of his eyes.

But he didn't like that he liked it. Why should he? It made no damn sense.

Five angrily huffed, wrapping his arms around himself. He was wearing the sweatshirt Jordan had provided for pajamas, because the attic was cold. He hated that his hands disappeared into it, hated that it smelled like sugar cookies and coconut and lavender, but he despised that he knew, in the back of his mind, that he loved it.

Over in the nest of blankets, Ben untangled himself from Klaus's death grip and sat up, rubbing his eyes. His hair was wild, and he shoved Klaus' arms off him; Klaus groaned and mumbled something before turning away, snuggling into a blanket.

"Morning, Five," Ben mumbled.

Five looked over his brother, mind flashing back to his nightmare. Then, to the death he hadn't witnessed, but read horrific stories of.

Fuck, Ben had been dead.

"Morning," he said, finally addressing his brother. "How did you sleep?"

Ben cracked a small grin, eyes still half shut. "Eh. Klaus had a death grip on me the whole time. Was a bit of a struggle, but I managed."

Five chuckled. The two stared at each other—the two Hargeeves who had been dead.

(Assumed was dead, he reminds himself. I was assumed dead.)

"Five?" Ben asked, voice soft. Five jolted; he had forgotten what Bens voice sounded like when he was going to say something he was unsure of. He had forgotten. He'd forgotten his brothers voice.

"Yeah?" Five said, tucking all the panic that came along with that realization away. He'd have to deal with it later.

"Did...did everyone forget about me?"

"What?" Five blinked, the question shooting right through his ears and into his heart. It ached and it stung, because that question was the exact one he'd asked himself for years.

And now Ben was asking it too.

"I mean, like, Diego...once, before we time-traveled, he and Klaus where talking, and when he said that he'd lost important people, he didn't mention me. I know I can't expect to be important, but it's just..." Ben blinked furiously, and Five saw him pinch gently at his arm. "Luther and Allison, they don't seem to care that I'm alive. Diego seems angry, almost, and, I get that I was dead for a long time, but..." Ben shrugged and fiddled with the band-tee. Five waited for him to continue, but he didn't. Instead, Ben just looked at him through his lashes.

As Ben stared, Five felt his heart speed up. Was he supposed to do something? Comfort him! he thought, but then he realized that he didn't know how. How where you supposed to comfort a previously-dead-boy who was trying to feel loved? Nobody had ever taught him this!

Stiffly, Five stood up and went over to Ben. Bending down, Five wrapped his arms around his brother. Then, he stayed still.

Ben started to laugh. "Are...are you trying to hug me?"

Five tensed more as he felt Bens shoulders move up and down; he was laughing. Aren't hugs supposed to comfort people? Was he not doing it right?

"Uh...is it not working?" Five mumbled. Ben shook his head.

"No. Not at all."

But then Ben wrapped his arms around Five and squeezed. The two stayed like that—Five, arms around Bens neck, stiff and mechanical, with Bens arms around his torso, holding tight—for another three minutes or so.

"Is this...brotherly bonding I see?" Klaus said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He grinned sleepily. "Whoop-whoop, am I right?"

Ben laughed, and Five pushed him away. He got up and returned to his post at the window, crossing his arms across his stomach (that sweatshirt was so soft, damn it).

Klaus laughed, reaching out for him. "Aw, Five! Don't stop! I was gonna join in the cuddle fest!" The boy dissolved into giggles, head in Bens lap, and Ben smiled at Five.

Five cracked the smallest of smiles back.

Then, suddenly, from downstairs, a scream echoed.

A/N:

So this was a fun chapter to write. Some lovely brotherly bonding, am I right??
Anyways, Happy (late) Easter!!! I hope you all enjoyed your holiday/weekend. I didn't lol
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Have a lovely day