Rainy Days

Chapter Forty: Jordan Wakes Up and Cries

[hargreeves house–still early wednesday morning]

DARK. CALM. Peaceful. Quiet.

Ouch. His head hurt. It felt like a little man was in there with a jackhammer, screaming and throwing a tantrum.

Fuck. His bones felt heavy. They felt like bowling balls shoved inside his limbs. And they hurt. They hurt almost as much as his head.

Whoever he was with just wouldn't shut up. They where leaning right over him, whispering words that he couldn't really hear, but their voices where annoying. Harsh, grating on his ears and making the little Jackhammer Man inside his brain flip the fuck out.

"Jordie? Are you awake? Jordie?"

Jordan groaned. Someone gave an excited gasp.

"Five! Five, your boyfriend is waking up!"

They started tapping his forehead. "Jordie, wakey wakey eggs-n-bacey!"

"Klaus, if he's got a concussion you shouldn't be whispering creepily in his ear and tapping his forehead." Ben's voice reprimanded. Ben. Klaus.

He was with the Umbrella Academy. He was safe. Five was safe. Billie had left before the shit went down. They where all safe.

"Jordan, are you awake? You should open your eyes," this was Ben, soft-spoken and gentle, his voice like a lullaby from your mother.

Jordan squinted. The room was dark, thank fuck—even the pale orange light drifting in from the street lamps stung. Hovering over him was Klaus and Ben. Five seemed to be in the process of sitting down. Luther, Diego, Allison, and Vanya where nowhere to be seen.

"My head fucking hurts," Jordan croaked out. Klaus threw his head back and laughed before Five nearly tackled him, attempting to cover his brothers mouth and stifle the giggles.

"Don't be so mean, Five," Klaus teased, pushing the hand away.

"Here, drink this." Five uncapped a water bottle and Ben moved so he could help Jordan sit up. His joints creaked, and he felt a thousand years old. His throat was dry as paper, and he felt bloated. His stomach rumbled like a whale.

Five pressed the bottle to his lips and Jordan took a swig, the cool water plummeting into his stomach with ease. Allison appeared, hair frizzy and brown skin glowing in the light, holding out a piece of buttered bread.

"Thanks," Five said quietly, and he held it up to Jordan. "Do you want to eat this by yourself, or should I feed it to you?"

Jordan forced his hand to move up and push the bread away from him. He didn't want it, didn't need it. He didn't need any food; he just needed to lose weight. And the easiest way to do that? Not eat. "No," he murmured.

"Jordie, come on, you need to eat," Five replied, his voice hushed and silky. The crust of the bread brushed against Jordan's closed lips. His stomach rumbled once more.

"Please, eat," Five reached up and gently brushed a curl from Jordan's forehead—he hadn't even realized it, but he as terribly wet. His curls where damp, and it seemed as though his clothes where just starting to dry. He wondered why. "Eat for me?"