Prosthetics¹||Five Hargreeves

Seven

All Five could feel were his hands, on his neck, his stomach, his thighs, his face, his lips on his. It was an inescapable dream, he couldn't run from it. But it made Five think he was weak, so he pushed it off as a little situation.

He couldn't fall asleep, because everytime he did he would relive that moment over and over at the bar. Now he wished he kept having those nightmares when he was stuck in the apocalypse, those weren't so bad.

Other then seeing all of your siblings dead, together.

It was seven in the morning and Five was in the bathroom, he was afraid of Matthew coming into the living room and catch him crying. So he hid in the bathroom, just incase.

When he looked at himself in the mirror the first thing he noticed about himself was his neck, he felt sick to his stomach, and at this point it could be one of many things.

The last time he ate, his hangover, or seeing the marks. He fell to his knees, throwing up into the toilet, there was a sudden knock that made him jump slightly. Fuck, "Go away I'm fine" Five said, "I need to pee, Five. Could you hurry up?" Matthew asked, Five flushed the toilet and came out of the bathroom.

Matthew went into the bathroom and shut the door, Five stood in his stance for a moment, glancing around the room. He took a deep breath before blinked out of the apartment entirely, Matthew came out of the bathroom and saw that he was gone.

"Jesus christ, Five" he mumbled, running to his room for his phone.

Five was in his apartment, everything scattered and broken. On his knees with his hands in his lap, his nose was runny and red, along with his eyes being red as well, but puffy. He was angry at himself for being vulnerable, he was an assassin.

The most deadly assassin known to time.

Yet here he was having a mental breakdown in his apartment, he didn't know how to handle his emotions all that well. He'd always been that way, and spending a few decades in solitude just made it even worse.

Things like this couldn't happen in the apocalypse, there was only him, what was left of his sanity, and Delores.

So how was he supposed to handle something like this?

His phone rang in the kitchen, like it had done the night before. This time he knew it was Matthew, he didn't understand why he cared for him so damn much. Five was fine on his own, he didn't need help from anyone.

He wiped his eyes and got up, walking to the kitchen. When he picked up the phone it began to rang again, this time he answered it. "I'm fucking fine" Five spoke into the phone, "I hope you know that when people say they're fine they usually aren't" Matthew spoke back. Five was at the point of silencing his phone, which is what he should have just done in the first place.

There was no response from him, just pure silence, until Matthew heard quiet sobbing over the phone. He could tell that he was trying to hold them back by the way some of them would suddenly be heard.

"Tell me your address so I can come over" Matthew's tone of voice was completely different than it was a minute ago, it was soft and soothing to hear. Five told him where his apartment was after some choking sobs.

He insisted on staying on the phone until Matthew got there, which Matthew didn't mind, he knew there wouldn't be much talking between now and while he drove. But he understood how Five felt, wanting to stay on the phone.

After a few minutes of silence and occasionally hearing sniffing, Matthew changed and left his apartment.

The drive had been about twenty minutes from his apartment to Five's, he let him know that he was here. There hadn't been a response, but he figured he shook his head. The line hung up and soon he heard the door unlock, the door hadn't opened so Matthew opened it slowly.

When he came in he saw Five sitting in front of his bed, he didn't think that Five lived in a studio apartment, he thought maybe a one bedroom at least. But he knew that the Commission were cheap when it came to essential needs, and the only kind of insurance they provided was dental.

Which is important, but not when you're on the verge of dying.

"Five?" Matthew shut the door behind him quietly, Five hadn't answered him, he had his head down with his fingers tangled in his hair and knees up to his chest, whispering to himself that Matthew couldn't quite make out.

Matthew kneeled down in front of him, trying to be as gentle as possible "Five look at me" he spoke, not sure how to handle this. He saw him shake his head, his knuckles turned white, pulling his hair.

"I can't get him.." he was choking on his sobs again, not as badly as before when they were on the phone "..out of my fucking head, I feel his hands on me and they won't go away, they won't go away" he cried, he felt stupid of himself for crying. It meant that he was weak, at least what he thought of it.

He nodded "He's not here anymore, he's not going to hurt you-" but Matthew was cut off by Five "That's not what I'm fucking worried about" he mumbled "Mattie I can't get him out of my fucking head why the hell do I still feel him touching me?"

Matthew flinched a little at the nickname, but he wasn't going to be an ass about it like he usually is, he crawled over to him and sat next to him. Their shoulders touched, Five either didn't care or didn't notice, it was probably both.

"Five please look at me" Matthew repeated softly, but sternly.

After a couple of seconds Five wiped his eyes and cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, he was still in the same clothes as the night before, and his hands still had the dried blood on them. He looked at him, unable to keep direct eye contact with Matthew.

Matthew caressed both sides of his face, wiping away the tears that would occasionally fill the corners of his eyes. "I'm not going to leave you, not until I know you're completely ok. Alright?" he spoke, his voice soft as it was over the phone.

It was something Five was beginning to like about him, a casual everyday thing that he could get used to. He nods slightly and looks down at his hands, scraping at the dried blood on his hand. "I want you to first, go get in the shower and clean up, and while you do that I'll make you some breakfast"

Nothing was ever done like this for Five, part of him understood the kind gesture, but the other part of him just thought it was plain stupid. "Ok" Five whispers, he got up and went over to the closest, grabbing some clothes and then locking himself in the bathroom.

Five had set his clothes down on the counter next to the sink, he began unbuttoning his shirt, he made the mistake of looking at himself in the mirror, revealing the bites and hickeys on him.

He wanted to cry again like a child.

But he didn't want to cry anymore, he bit down on the inside of his cheek as hard as he could, beginning to taste a metallic flavor. He quickly ignored it, finished getting undressed and got into the shower.

Matthew was able to make Five some eggs and toast, there weren't necessarily many options, considering that the man drank more coffee and alcohol than eating. Which he couldn't say much about that.

- - -

"I don't want to eat, I only want coffee," Five spoke, he was about to grab the mug until Matthew slid the mug away from him "No, you need to eat and then I'll give you back your coffee. At least the toast"

Five sighed in annoyance, tapping his fingers on the table "I'm not a child, now give me my coffee" he demanded, it didn't phase Matthew though. They stared at each other for a good minute until Five gave up and took a few bites out of his toast, making himself finish it.

Matthew slid the coffee over to him, Five stopped in mid chewing when he had done so. "Thank you" he mumbled, finishing chewing and then taking a sip of his coffee.