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

Chapter 15 - A good day for a home invasion

I could barely keep my eyes open and it wasn't even dark yet.
"You doing okay? You seem to be sleeping a lot. I that normal?" Five looked a little concerned but it was hard to tell as his expression still held its usual lack of emotion.
"No, actually. I used to be able to pretty much not sleep at all and be fine. Guess it must be catching up on me." Five just nodded, his eyes flicking from the road to check on me before moving them back.
"You should go home." He finally spoke again after a few minutes.
"But I'm here to help." I tried to move to look at him but my wings had grown back in the last few hours and cemented me in place in between all the bric-a-brac cluttering the back of the van.
"I just mean it's late and I'll take care of this guy whenever he turns up. I'll find you tomorrow again." I tried to protest, but a loud yawn replaced my words and I had to give in to defeat. I murmured my goodbyes before wrenching open the door behind me and inelegantly tumbled out of the van and onto the empty street. Five barely managed to stop himself laughing as I shook myself off, closed the door and took to the skies. The dimming light allowed me to hide from sight as I headed home, making it back in no time. My window was unlocked as per usual, so I only had to crawl through to be able to collapse into my bed. No sooner than I had closed my eyes my door flew open, Luther filling the doorway.

"Now you turn up! You need to vote on what happens to Mom." This flicked a switch in my brain, having barely recovered from my last encounter with Luther.

"What do you mean 'what happens to Mom'?" I sat up, feet hitting the ground with a thud as I felt a scowl forming on my features. Luther took a step into the room, his large stature loomed over me, as I forced myself to rise as to not allow him to intimidate me.

"I mean, even if she didn't kill dad, she didn't do anything to help him, so we are voting on if we need to turn her off." My mind went blank. All I could see was white as I stared down at Luther's enormous shoes, fists clenched so tight I could feel my circulation being cut off. It took all I had to push past him and leave the room, knowing he wouldn't leave me alone if I stayed. My name spilled out into the hallway behind me as Luther's hand encircled my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

"You can't just ignore this."

"Fuck you, Luther." I turned back to meet his gaze, a cold stare fixed on his. He took a step back as he saw the tears that threatened to fall, unsure if I was about to explode on him again or break down, but it was shocking enough for his grip to loosen and allow me to yank my arm free, leaving him standing in the hall. I tried to stifle to tears as I rounded the corner, only to walk head first into Diego, who held me up by the shoulders, looking down at me with concern.

"Hey, are you okay? They didn't drag you into this, did they?" His voice was soft and he looked down at me like I might break under his grip, which only increased my anger.

"DON'T TREAT ME LIKE A FUCKING CHILD!" Even as I spoke, I knew I didn't mean to shout at him, but even now, everytime I saw each of my siblings all I could remember was the hate and resent I felt for being abandoned, and not a single one had addressed it, all acting like a normal family. Well, as normal as my family can be. Diego's hand fell from my shoulders and he moved out my path, allowing me to leave the pair and the tears finally fell to the floor. I found Mum sat in front of the large wall of painting, seemingly stitching something. But her actions halted as she heard me crying, rising quickly and enveloping me in her arms.

"I'm not a child..." Mum's arms were strong yet gentle around my short frame.

"Of course you aren't, sweetheart. My darling is so grown up. You're going to make such a beautiful adult." Hearing Mum speak like I hadn't aged a day only made the tears fall harder, reminding me both of how she really was fading, and how everyone thought of me as a child, even if I had been on this earth for 29 years. And maybe I was just a child. A weak useless child who no one wants around.