Rainy Days

Chapter Sixty-Eight: And We Start The Descent Into Hell (What A Nice Place)

[jordans house–sunday evening]

OPERATION SAVE Diego's Helpless Ass had been revised to fit Jordan and his powers. Five had determined that their chances of succeeding had improved a lot, although whether or not he meant that it was just saying it to try and make Jordan feel better was yet to he seen.

Ron still hadn't come inside, not even when Allison went out to try and convince him to go eat dinner. He simply sat in the backyard on a swing, drifting over a mound of fresh dirt that Jordan was unsure of the origins. He'd have to ask someone–everyone but him and Five seemed to know, although when he asked Klaus the boy just smiled and offered him peanut butter instead.

A third thing was that the rest of them had all accepted his powers with little question, which was great, because Jordan really didn't want to talk about them anymore. After the more in-depth description to them, he'd been put into the plan (although Allison and Five didn't look all that happy about it). 

"Hey," Five looked at him. They where sitting at the kitchen table, nibbling on cookies they had bought earlier that day. "You good?"

Jordan glanced out towards the backyard, where Ron sat in the fading light. "I guess."

"We should go to bed," Five said. "We're going to go The Commission tomorrow and save Diego. You should get some rest."

"Yeah," Jordan rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, you–you're right. I'm just gonna go to sleep."

"Okay. Yeah. Go get some sleep." Five nodded, taking a sip of milk.

"Goodnight," Jordan said, and then he got up, handed Five his remaining cookies, and went upstairs.

The moment Jordans door could be heard closing, Five got up and grabbed some of the cookies as a peace offering.

"Where're you going?" Vanya asked as she walked into the kitchen. Five paused.

"I'm going to try and get Ron to forgive Jordan," Five said. Vanya nodded.

"Well, have fun." She said to him, grabbing a piece of bread.

"Uh, what's the bread for?" Five questioned. Vanya arched an eyebrow.

"None of your business." She said.

"Uh, well, okay," Five mutters. Vanya chuckled and then bounced away, already chattering to who he assumed was Allison or Klaus—something about Luther and ducks.

With that confusing interaction done with, Five swung open the back door. "Shit, it's cold." He muttered.

It was true; the air had a brisk, ominous chilliness to it. How Ron had lasted this long outside without a jacket was a mystery.

"Hey," Five said, stopping in front of Ron. The brown-eyed boy stretched his toes onto the ground, stalling the swing. "I brought you something to eat."

Ron glanced st the cookies. "Did Jordan eat some?"

Five nodded. "I had him eat six."

"Thanks," Ron mumbled, and then he took the treats. "I'm glad you got him to eat."

"Does Jordan have an eating disorder?" Five blurted. "I just want to know."

Ron looked at him from the corner of his eye. "He won't ever admit it, but he does. He knows it, too. He's aware that he's got one, but he's so determined to lose weight. He's gotten a lot better lately, trying to make sure that he can still do stuff without passing out. But he doesn't listen to me when I try to get him to eat. Doesn't listen to Tate either."