•Lonely is more than an adjective• || A Number Five x Reader Story

Chapter 11 - False sense of security

The body hit the floor with a thud. Several knives embedded in his torso and a flurry of fists heading towards the rest of him. I could only stare at my back, smoke rising from the bullet embedded within. But I couldn't feel a thing. I'm pretty sure shock doesn't work like that. I opened my wings to get a better look, only for the faint thud of metal hitting the floor to sound as a bullet fell from my feathers. I stared at it for a second before turning around.
"Guys! Stop stop! I'm okay!" The group froze, One's hand clenched around the man's collar, fist clenched mid throw, the others much the same. It took a moment, but the man was allowed to fall to the floor once more as I leant down to pick up the stray bullet, still hot to the touch.
"I could have sworn it hit me..." I was almost taken off my feet as Four jumped at me, his arms wrapping around my neck.
"Holy shit! You're bulletproof!"

Dad had seen everything. There are few things I would call worse than getting shot, and since I missed out on the getting shot part the 'worse' was obviously what was due to befall me now.

For a few days, nothing happened. The days moved on without so much as a word from Dad besides his usual barking orders during training. I felt like I should be more relaxed, but something was amiss. Anytime something even remotely odd occurred with our abilities Dad was all over us, and yet he hadn't mentioned a thing about when I'd been shot. It took a short week until I felt like it was okay to allow myself a few hours of calm. I let the book clenched within my hands take me away as I sat in silence beside Five, who like myself liked to spend his free hours in the library. I was halfway to solving the murder of the Colonel when the loud speaker rang throughout the academy.
"Number Eight to my office. Now." Had it been a mission Dad would have announced it, so this could be anything but good. My panic was only furthered when I met the gaze of Five, his features etched into worry much like my own. My feet carried me to Dad's office with haste, not wanting to keep him waiting. But my speed slowed to a halt as my gaze fell on the double doors that parted me from Dad, and everything around me told me to run. Turn around and leave. But I couldn't. My hand hadn't even touched the door to knock as it swung open, Dad sat behind his desk, not even looking up from his writing to acknowledge me. I turned to close the door behind me. I had barely heard the click of the door locking as the gun clenched within Dad's hand fired off two shots. One at my leg and another at my wing. I met the ground as my leg gave way beneath me, a gut wrenching kind of scream echoing from my lungs and I clutched my bleeding limb. The shot had gone straight through, embedding itself in the door behind me. The other fell to the ground with a clunk, taking only a few feathers with it. Dad couldn't even blink an eye at my crying form on the ground.
"Just as I thought." He pressed a small button on his desk, settling back down to write as if I wasn't writhing in his floor in agony. Mum burst through the door seconds later, pulling me from the ground. My eyelids gave out as I saw the others emerging from their rooms, aghast at my state as my vision faded to black.

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT BULLSHIT!"
"Language, Number Five!"
"THIS WASN'T AN ACCIDENT AND YOU KNOW IT POGO!" My eyelids felt as if they were pinned down as I wrenched them open as the shouts bounced around in my already aching head.
"Turn it down a tad would you, some of us are trying to sleep." My yes flutters shit again before they flung back open as a body flung across mine.
"Eighttt. You're okayyy." Four clung to me like I'd died.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" I pulled myself up, only to realise I was in the hospital wing; Four, Five, Seven, Mum and Pogo surrounding my bedside.
"God, what happened?" I racked my brain for something, but I couldn't remember past reading that brilliant crime novel. Obviously the wife did it.
"You got shot? Don't you remember?" Five leaned into the bedside as if he was hoping to trigger the memory.
"No. Nothing. Was it a mission?" Pogo nudged Four off me.
"It was just a training accident, my dear." Five scoffed, arms crossed as he glared at Pogo before turning back to me as his eyes softened.
"Dad called you to his office and minutes later you came out in Mum's arms screaming. It was no accident!" They had clearly been arguing about this for a while.
"How long was I out?" Seven moved forward to take my hand as Pogo and Five's 'discussion' became a little more heated.
"Barely a few hours. Your accelerated healing helped." I nodded. Perks of needing to regrow moulting feathers I suppose. I swung my legs out of the small blanket to allow myself to stand up. My eyes caught the small scar now decorating my leg which hadn't been there before.
"Shot in the leg?" Seven nodded. Lucky place to get shot. No vitals to hit, not too difficult to heal. But that's me thinking into it a bit much. I let my feet meet the floor, taking Seven's hand as I took her and Four out of the infirmary with me. Five and Pogo didn't even notice we'd left.