Against the odds . Five Hargreeves fanfic

Chapter twenty

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the living room windows, casting a warm glow over the gathered group. We were lounging around, trying to relax after the intense day. Klaus had somehow convinced everyone to watch a show he claimed was a "classic," though it felt more like a chaotic mess of poorly executed stunts and questionable humor.

Despite the laughter and the relaxed atmosphere, a gnawing sense of dread clung to me. I was trying to focus on the show, but my head was throbbing, and a nauseous haze seemed to envelop me. My attempts to appear normal were failing as I felt the familiar wave of dizziness starting to overtake me. I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, hoping it would pass.

Five was seated across the room, pretending to be engrossed in his own world while occasionally glancing at me. His face was a mask of stoic indifference, but I could sense an undercurrent of concern beneath his cold exterior.

Without warning, the room spun violently, and I slumped forward, my vision going black. I hit the floor with a dull thud, and the laughter from the show faded into the distance as darkness closed in.

"Evangeline!" Five's voice cut through the haze as he rushed to my side. He gently but firmly lifted me off the floor, his expression tight with frustration. I could barely make out the worried faces of the others, hovering around us.

"Dammit," Five muttered under his breath. He laid me back down on the couch with a gentleness that belied his irritation. "Not again. Just—stay with me."

The others crowded around, their faces a blur of anxious concern. Klaus was already on his feet, pacing and muttering about "classic TV shows not being worth this kind of stress." Diego, always the pragmatic one, started checking my vitals with a worried frown.

I tried to focus on Five's face, his expression a mix of frustration and helplessness. Despite his cold demeanor, there was something softer in his eyes as he hovered close, his hand resting on my forehead. "You're pushing yourself too hard," he said, his voice a low growl. "We need to get this sorted out before you end up like this again."

My head was pounding, and the nausea was overwhelming. I wanted to shout, to curse at the universe for making me go through this, but all that came out was a weak, strained whisper. "I'm tired of this... I don't want to feel like this anymore."

Five's gaze softened for a fleeting moment, though he quickly masked it with his usual coldness. "I know," he said, his tone begrudgingly sympathetic. "But we need to keep pushing forward. We'll figure it out."

The others tried to offer comfort in their own ways. Klaus was already concocting a dramatic, exaggerated story about how we were all destined to overcome this ordeal, while Diego and Viktor exchanged worried glances and whispered about how to best help me.

Despite their efforts, the reality of my situation was overwhelming. I felt like I was trapped in a never-ending cycle of fear and pain. Five's presence, while somewhat comforting, was a constant reminder of the tension between us. I could sense his internal struggle—he wanted to be there for me, but he was also determined to maintain his emotional distance.

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**That Night**

As the evening settled in, I found myself once again in Five's room, the same place where I had spent so many uncomfortable nights. Five, as usual, was stationed on the chair by the bed, his usual coldness tempered by a rare, begrudging concern.

I was exhausted, my energy depleted from the day's events and the continuous battle with Nyx's influence. The nightmares had started again, more vivid and horrifying than before. The dark figure of Nyx seemed to loom over me, its gaping mouth whispering terrible promises of eternal darkness.

Five's hand was on my arm, providing a semblance of comfort amidst the chaos of my fears. I could feel the tension between us—he was trying so hard to be the stoic, detached figure he always was, but his concern for me was palpable.

The nightmares seemed to intertwine with reality, blurring the lines between what was real and what was imagined. In my fevered state, I saw Nyx's grotesque form even with my eyes closed, its voice a menacing whisper. "Soon, your light will be mine," Nyx's voice echoed in my mind. "And the world will fall into an endless night."

Five was there, though, his hand gripping mine tightly. "You're okay," he said, though his voice carried a hint of desperation. "You're not alone."

His words were a lifeline in the sea of darkness that surrounded me. I could feel his conflicted emotions, the struggle between wanting to stay detached and the undeniable need to be there for me. It was a strange mix of warmth and coldness, an emotional tug-of-war that left me feeling more confused than ever.

Despite the emotional tension, the closeness of our situation was undeniable. Five's presence was a strange comfort, his usual distance softened by the need to provide support. I felt an odd mixture of relief and frustration. Relief because he was there, frustration because of the tangled emotions that came with his proximity.

The night wore on, and I could feel Five's hand still holding mine, his touch a constant in the sea of fear and uncertainty. As I drifted into a restless sleep, I could sense the unspoken bond between us, a connection that neither of us fully understood but that was undeniably there.