Rainy Days

Chapter Twelve: The Commission Can Take a Chill Pill

IT WAS late. Eleven forty-nine, to be exact. Jordan had gotten Ron into bed, made dinner, cleaned the bathroom (mostly the spilled toilet water), cleaned his room, and swept the kitchen. Now, he was staring at the attic door, food in hand, knowing he should go up but knowing he didn't want too.

Why had they been eavesdropping? It was blatantly obvious that was what they'd been doing. Couldn't they trust him? What had he done that had shown he was untrustworthy?

Kept your birthday a secret, lied about your powers, your sexuality, your brother being (biologically) a sister, need I go on?

Okay, but besides those? Nothing. And those where harmless, his to share when he pleased and why he pleased. And now, because of their careless behavior, Tate knew! They had tried so hard to keep their being here a secret, and now Tate knew! Tate, who could barely keep secrets, Tate, who loved the Umbrella Academy almost as much as Ron. God, Tate knew.

Fucking hell, Tate knows.

Jordan took a deep breath and opened the door, swinging it shut behind him.

~

When he poked his head over the landing, he realized that they all looked rather guilty.

Diego was lazily throwing some knives (where had he gotten those anyway?) and then snatching them back. Allison and Luther where cuddled up together, frowns on both faces and staring at Vanya (still asleep, thank God). In the nest of blankets, Ben was napping, although he kept turning over and moaning in pain. Klaus was sitting just outside the nest, criss-cross-applesauce, with his head in his hands; he was watching Ben.

And Five. Five was sitting in the windowsill, watching outside. Just now, Jordan realized that the cut from when Vanya had woken up and attacked (was that yesterday? It felt like a lifetime ago) had dried blood trailing from it. His mouth was drawn in a small frown, and he kept on tugging his ear. Jordan thought back to all the others times Five had done that. (When he's upset. He's upset, do something Jordan)

"Hey," he said, announcing his presence. Allison sat up, Luther not far behind. Klaus looked at him but didn't move, Diego pulled his knife from the wall (looking a smidge embarrassed) and Ben continued sleeping.

Five gazed at him with an emotionless face, and Jordan felt his heart in his throat.

"Here." He shoved the food forwards. Allison, footsteps soft and gentle, took it from him.

"We are sorry about earlier, Jordan." She said. "We didn't mean to alert Tim to our presence."

"Tate."

"Tate, right. Sorry." She then passed the plate around; everyone took just a little. Ben still didn't rouse from his dreams; just whimpered and turned over.

"Five?" Jordan cleared his throat, and Five nodded as acknowledgement. "Do you want a band-aid for that or something?"

He reached up and touched the dried blood, as if he'd forgotten about the wound. He shrugged. "It'd be nice."

"C'mon, then." Jordan said, jerking his head towards the stairs. "We'll have to be quiet, though."

Five nodded again and stood, brushing his pants off. Then he snatched a fish finger from Klaus ("what? Rude!") and followed Jordan downstairs. Allison cast a look at Jordan, who simultaneously felt his heart expand and shrink. There'd been something knowing in that look; like she knew he was gay, knew he found Five extremely attractive, and told him to be careful.