The Umbrella Academy Losers Au

049 / I Deserve it

Wc: 427

"Fucker." He mutters trying to put the dollar back into the machine for the fourth time.

"Five? You're alive?" "Y-Yeah. Why would I be-" Patrick smirks, leaning against the machine gently.

"What are you doing here?" "To see my boyfriend. Why are you alive?" "You're not dating him." "How do you know that?"

Bill grins ever so slightly, noticing the purple bruise under his eye.

"Because. I knocked your ass out yesterday. And w-we almost died. I'm pretty sure he would have time to deal with your idiotic ass." Five presses buttons gently, grabbing his snack and Seven's favorite soda.

"Listen fucker, I'm not afraid of you. And he will be mine. Got it?" "Yeah right." "Also. I'd watch your back. Next time, you'll die."

It's almost as if Patrick's eyes turned a rusty-orange color. But, Five is tired and medicated.

"M-Move asshole." He pushes past the boy, pulling the IV thing with him.

— 12:32 pm

"Here," Bill whispers handing the boy his favorite soda. He tilts his head ever so slightly as his heavy eyes blink multiple times.

"D-Don't ask why I remember. I just do...I don't k-know why either." He shrugs as the boy nods, yawning softly.

"Mr. Denbrough, time for a shower. Keep the bandage on and you'll be okay." The nurse smiles taking the IV out and leading him to the bathroom slowly.

Beverly had left an hour earlier, leaving to take care of the other two who had gotten hurt. With Eddie being in pain, he can't help Richie who doesn't know how to take care of another person.

Richie tries his best but ends up crying because of stress, being in pain, and watching his smaller best friend in pain.

So, the two have been watching tv all day, taking naps, and eating healthy and non-healthy snacks Grace had prepared.

Of course, the smaller one would get onto Richie for eating so unhealthily.

"I'll b-be back." Five whispers to his smaller roommate for the day or a couple of days.

Seven takes a couple of sips of his drink before watching a tall figure stand at the door. "Hey...feeling any better?" They grin, sitting a small plastic bag of snacks on the table.

Seven looks away, clearly afraid. Their hand slides through their semi-long black stringy hair.

"I'm sorry...I am," He whispers sitting at the end of the bed. He gently grabs onto Seven's hand. "are you giving me the silent treatment? If you are. I deserve it."