Attacca ─ Five Hargreeves

21. Wither Into the Truth

Despite billions of stars splintered above, lighting up the dark welkin, trying to be a lullaby for the humans who were cocooning their impotence all day long, the boy and the girl were writhing uneasy while being washed away by endless scenes in their heads. No words had been conveyed even though the car had been roaming around the road for several minutes, they failed to ascertain a way to converse, and even the silence did not propagate the shape of each other's feelings. It was all complicated, everything had unfolded so quickly, that it seemed like they had no idea how to go back to the way things were.

Five kept pilfering a glance at his partner who was leaning her head on the window and riveted on observing the series of buildings pass by in a blur. His grip on the steering wheel tightened for a moment as he cursed inwardly, why at times like this he was constantly unable to provide the right phrase to channel solace for her? Why was it so difficult to do what she always did to him? He was no longer a child, he should have been qualified to understand her feelings after living with her for decades. But no, he remained silent like a coward until the car stopped a few meters from a luxury car parked in front.

"I thought you were going to get a cup of coffee?"

Her question stuffed his head and drowned out the other thoughts as he stared at her blankly until realisation jolted him into the present.

Five bit his lower lip before saying, "you said you wanted to see your mother?" His voice blasted quietly, afraid he would only expand the sour mood. "I... went to the Observatory earlier to see if Grace was there, but they told me she was retired, and the office is now run by her research colleagues, so I can only dig a little about her whereabouts nowadays."

Genevieve ducked her head down, her fingers fidgeting on the hem of her shirt. "You don't have to do that."

"I don't know what Pogo had told you, but..." he struggled to find the proper words next, but he tried anyway, "it won't change the fact that Grace is still and will always be your mother."

Five meant well, she felt certain of it. But her brain was not yet able to get a load of the good side of the whole anecdote she heard.

Genevieve suffered an unimaginable torment, she had to be held in a steel box for years, she lost her youth, and on top of that was the fact that her mother did all that to her. So, it was hard enough to make room within her heart to still perceive Grace Kilday as the same figure who had saved her from that horrendous ward in Bucharest. What was the point of her being adopted in the first place then? For her to become a new inquest? Because Grace lost access to Pogo, she mapped out the girl into another groundwork?

"She almost sent me to space, Five—my series of torturous headaches started from her venture," she snarled and threw him a bitter glare, "I was six years old."

Of all people, Five knew not to lecture her about her mother when he himself was a stranger to parental affection. However, after getting wind of how Genevieve had lived her life before his father had determined to butt in, he felt she should always hold on to those memories instead. She was happy, she was loved, and that portion of her life was the best part of it all. Five wished she hadn't let a few setbacks be the conclusion to this entangled sequence.

"Dad has always forced me to use my abilities ever since I accidentally awakened it in my sleep. I was four when it all started," his scowl intensified, fingers tapping on the steering wheel anxiously, fumbled with the horror of his past was deeply traumatising, "his instructions were clear, if I wanted to be part of the Umbrella Academy, I had to practise my power by moving around everywhere, every day. It didn't stop, it went on forever, I could barely stand for two days straight—the training only ceased when I ended up in the wrong place and nearly died," Five chuckled crisply as he shook his head, "I keep thinking that maybe... if my biological mother hadn't given me to him, my life would have been better. But at the same time, there are moments when I'm delighted with what I have, it gives me something grand in return—something to be proud of."