illicit | five hargreeves - EDITING

twenty three

chapter twenty three: pain

Number Five was always worried about Anthony, and probably for a valid reason. He was scared that he would inevitably loose him the way that he lost everyone else, that he would end up back being entirely alone with not a single person who cared about him. He worried constantly whenever he wasn't around his boyfriend; worried that someone would hurt him, or that he would hurt himself.

The thing was, Anthony had a habit of inflicting pain on himself quite often. Pain was something that never bothered him to a certain extent. It only bothered him if it was being imposed on him for either an unknown reason or by somebody else. Five had come to the conclusion long ago that his husband was a masochist, a depressed masochist, but a masochist nonetheless. He knew that Anthony felt some weird sense of self gratification by the pain he brought to himself, and how much better it made him feel.

It was his form of coping with everything, and Five knew that, but that doesn't mean he was okay with it in any sense. He didn't want Anthony to hurt himself, because Five couldn't stand the idea of him being in any pain at all. He really didn't understand though, and Five swore he had pulled at every thread while trying to solve the puzzle that was his lover's head, but it seemed so impossible.

If Five had his way, he would just wrap Anthony up in bubble wrap and keep him safe from any harm, that way he would never have to be hurt or be able to hurt himself again. Obviously, that wasn't possible or plausible for either of them, so now Five was stuck in the back of Diego's car clutching Anthony as he bled out on-top of him.

He didn't know why or how Anthony had managed to keep the hole in his shoulder a secret for the entire day, but he somehow had, which was only going to make the situation worse. Getting shot period was bad enough, but even worse when he had allowed himself to bleed out for hours.

Number Five felt partly responsible and guilty, because he had been so engrossed in the apocalypse and trying to find Harold Jenkins, he didn't even noticed the excruciating pain that his partner was clearly in the whole time.

"Hey Ant, try and keep those eyes open for me now, can you do that?" Five asked, trying to ignore the way his voice wavered with every word. His hands shook violently as he pressed his own blazer onto Anthony's shoulder, in a desperate attempt to try and stop the blood flow.

"Mm" Anthony hummed, his eyes staying closed as he moved his head to the side.

"Darling I really need you to open your eyes for me, can you manage that?" Five asked, and the boy under him did comply just barely "Good boy, now just focus on me, alright? Listen to my voice and just look at me"

Anthony smiled weakly up at him "Can you hold my hand, please?" he asked, and he smiled wider when he felt a hand clasp around his.

"You're alright love, you're okay" Five told him, although the was probably just trying to reassure himself more than his husband "You're gonna be fine, I swear you're okay"

"You don't sound all too convinced" Anthony murmured with a soft chuckle "If I die can you ask your brother to conjure me? I'd rather live with him than go to Hell"

"Don't talk like that, you're gonna be fine, perfectly fine, and there won't even be a scratch left on you after we fix you up, alright?" Five asked.

"And how do you plan to 'fix me up'?" Anthony asked with a soft smile "No offense Fivey, but I'm not sure you're qualified enough for this"

"I've fixed you up before" Five defended "How did this even happen? You were fine a couple hours ago"

Anthony grunted in pain "Remember when we were at the Commission? Yeah right around then"