IGNIS : the umbrella academy [COMPLETE]

I

     "SHE SUFFERED A SEVERE INJURY TO HER LARYNX, one of you will need to give blood," Grace told them as they crowded around Allison's stretcher.

     Five was now applying pressure to Allison's wound instead of Carla, the once cream blanket now crimson with blood.

     "I will," everyone chorused.

     "No, I'm going to do it," Luther said defiantly.

     Pogo shook his head, "I'm afraid that's not possible, dear boy. Your blood is more compatible with mine."

     "Hey, don't sweat it. I got this, big guy," Klaus said, stepping towards Grace, and patting the inside of his arm, "I love needles!"

     "Master Klaus," Pogo said wearily, "Your blood is... how shall I say this... too polluted."

     "I can do it," Carla said.

Pogo eyed her for a few seconds, "I'm afraid we don't quite understand the mechanics of your blood yet, Miss Carla. We are not sure if it's safe for Miss Allison's body."

     She sighed, just as Diego stepped forward, "Move. I'll do it."

     Grace nodded, turning to pick up a needle, before facing Diego again. There was a second of pause, before the man whimpered, falling to the floor unconscious.

     "Stick him," Pogo said.

---[]---

     The sound of the tap running filled the kitchen as Carla walked in, and she saw Five standing with his back to the entrance, washing his hands.

     She coughed slightly, alerting him of her presence, and she slowly approached him, placing her hands on the kitchen counter and raising herself to sit on the edge.

     Slowly, she took off her bloodied gloves, placing them down next to her, and watched as Five rinsed the blood off his hands.

     It seemed to be clinging to him, though, sticking to the creases in his palms and under his nails. Carla noticed the way his fingers wouldn't stop shaking, and she cautiously looked at him.

     As Carla stared at Five, she saw the tears glistening in his eyes as he scrubbed his hands again and again.

     "Five," she said quietly, breaking the thick silence, "You okay?"

     She was sure Five was going to make some sort of snarky comment, but he just sniffed, before saying, "I just... I hate it."

     "Hate what?"

     "The slit throat, the blood, all of it," he muttered.

     Carla had to admit, she was a bit confused at this. He was an assassin, surely he was used to the blood.

     Instead of pushing it, her gaze drifted back to his hands, and where the skin was turning a raw red because of how hard he was washing them.

     "Hey, hey, hey," she jumped off the edge of the sink, rushing to his side and gingerly using her bare hands to yank at his blazer sleeves to pull them out from under the tap, "You're going to hurt yourself."

     Quickly, she retracted her hands, feeling a slight tremor shoot through her body at the small brush of skin-on-skin contact.

     Five sniffed again, looking at his hands as though they were still dripping blood, and he glanced up at Carla, "I'm so sorry."

     She frowned, "For what?"

     He turned away, hastily wiping his eyes, "It doesn't matter."