Five Hargreeves oneshots

V2 The Emotion Switch

*Five's pov*

I teleport into the kitchen, with my new black and white suit on. Everyone stops speaking and stares at me, I get slightly confused, because I thought that I told everyone that I was going to be wearing something new today. "What?" I ask, they shake their heads. "What are you wearing?" Allison asks me, I sigh. "My new suit, I thought I told you I was wearing something new today." Allison rolls her eyes. "Well, apparently you didn't!" She yells, I groan out of frustration. "Okay, hold on! Five, why all black and white? What's that theme for?" Diego asks me, I look away, not knowing how to tell them that I made it myself. "Look, Five. We just want an explanation." Luther explains, Viktor and Klaus nodding, agreeing with Luther. Ben is the only one staying silent, and I'm kinda glad.

"It doesn't matter," I mutter, shoving past them towards the coffee. The smell barely registers. It's like someone dumped a bucket of ash over everything - smells, sounds, even the sight of Klaus trying to sneak a bite of my donut seems muted, distant.

"Five, that's the third time you've shut us out this week," Allison says, her voice tight. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I lie, taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee. It tastes like disappointment.

"It's the suit, isn't it?" Viktor ventures, his brow furrowed. "It's like... you're pushing us away."

He's right, of course. But they wouldn't understand. They couldn't. Not really.

"Look, it's just a suit," I say, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. It's easier this way. Safer. "Don't read into it."

But they do. They always do. And for a fleeting moment, I almost tell them. I almost confess that the black and white isn't just a fashion choice, it's a reflection of the hollowness inside, the emptiness that spreads like a virus every time I use my powers.

I almost tell them that the suit is a shield, a barrier against the overwhelming tide of emotions that threatens to drown me every time I let someone in.

But the words die in my throat. Because how do you explain to people who feel everything so intensely that sometimes, the only way to survive is to feel nothing at all?

So I turn away, retreating further into the safety of my self-imposed isolation. The switch flips, the world fades to a dull gray, and I am left alone, adrift in a sea of apathy.

It's a lonely existence, but it's the only one I know.

The world became a blur of monochrome. Days bled into each other, a monotonous cycle of training, missions, and carefully constructed emotional distance. My siblings, bless their meddling hearts, tried to break through the wall I had erected around myself, but their efforts only served to reinforce its impenetrable surface.

Allison tried empathy, her voice soft and coaxing as she probed for the source of my withdrawal. Diego, ever the man of action, challenged me to grueling sparring sessions, hoping to physically exhaust the darkness out of me. Luther, in a gesture that was both endearing and agonizingly misplaced, presented me with a meticulously labeled collection of moon rocks, convinced that their lunar serenity would somehow soothe my troubled soul.

Even Klaus, bless his chaotic spirit, attempted an intervention of sorts, summoning a gaggle of what he claimed were "renowned therapists from the astral plane." The resulting cacophony of conflicting advice and unsolicited past-life regressions only served to give me a headache.

Through it all, Ben remained my only solace. He alone understood the chilling allure of numbness, the seductive whisper of oblivion that promised respite from the overwhelming chaos of human emotion.