RUN BOY RUN- reader x Five Hargreeves

Part Thirty-Seven

The Seven of us all sat in a circle, the tension palpable in the air. Five and I were positioned at the head of our impromptu meeting, our faces etched with concern. The others looked on with a mix of anticipation and dread. "First off," Five begins, his voice steady but tinged with regret, "I wanna say I'm sorry. I know I really screwed up the pooch on this whole 'going back in time and getting stuck thing'. But the real kick in the pants here is we brought the end of the world with us." Klaus, who had been restlessly pacing the room, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his eccentric shirt, stops abruptly. He lets out a huge gasp, his eyes widening dramatically. "Oh my god, again?" He glanced around at everyone, his gaze met by a collective look of exasperation - what we've come to call the 'usual Klaus look'. The silence that follows is thick with unspoken frustration. When it finally clicks with him, Klaus groans, throwing his hands up in the air. "You all knew? Why am I always the last person to find out about the end of the world-" He pauses mid-sentence, inhaling sharply for another dramatic gasp.I can't help but roll my eyes, feeling the familiar mix of affection and annoyance that Klaus often inspires. "My cult is gonna be so pissed, Five. I told them they had until 2019!" At this, I shot up from my seat, my patience wearing thin. "You told your cult!?" I yell at him, my voice echoing in the room.

Five glances at me, his eyes conveying a silent command to sit down. I reluctantly obey, slowly sinking onto the arm rest of the chair next to us, my fingers drumming anxiously against my thigh. "We have until Monday. We have six days," Five mutters, brushing the hair out of his face. His words hang heavy in the air, the gravity of our situation settling over us like a suffocating blanket. The room falls silent, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The tick of a nearby clock seems to grow louder, a constant reminder of our dwindling time. Klaus, who had been slouching on the couch next to Vanya, his lanky frame taking up more space than necessary, suddenly speaks up. "Is it Vanya?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and apprehension. I groan, placing my head in my hands. The tension in the room ratchets up another notch. "Klaus!" Allison snips, her usually quiet voice sharp with hurt.

I glance at Diego, who's been uncharacteristically quiet. With a subtle nod towards a nearby plate, I silently ask him to hand it to me. Understanding flickers in his eyes as he passes it over. Without hesitation, I chuck it at Klaus, purposely missing but making my point clear. "What? It's usually Vanya," Klaus defends, his hands raised in mock surrender."Doesn't mean you have the right to say that. Especially when she's sitting next to you," I retort, my voice tight with frustration. Then, softening slightly, I add, "Plus, I can tell she's got way more control now." I sneak a quick smile at Vanya, who returns it gratefully, a silent moment of understanding passing between us. Klaus scoffs and dramatically lays flat on the couch, his arm draped over his eyes. I roll my eyes and glance at Five, noticing the growing irritation etched on his face. His jaw is clenched, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm on the arm of his chair. "Do you have any leads, Five?" Vanya asks, her voice a welcome reprieve from Klaus's nonsense. The weariness in her tone mirrors what we're all feeling - tired of the bickering, desperate for a plan. I stand up, my movements deliberate as I retrieve a file from the table behind Five. "Yeah, we have one," I mutter, setting the file down in front of everyone. The sound of papers shuffling fills the room as everyone leans in to get a better look.

"Shit, is that Dad?" Allison asked, picking up the file, her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. "That's him-" Diego starts, but Five cuts him off. "Yes, standing on the grassy knoll." Five's voice is clipped, impatient. The room falls silent once again as the implications of this revelation sink in. Our father, somehow involved in one of history's most infamous moments. The weight of our task seems to double in an instant. "Diego, Y/n and I have been trying to talk to Dad about what exactly this means," Five explains, his voice tight with frustration. "So far we've ended up with nothing." "Not nothing-" Diego interrupts, his body tensing as he leans forward in his chair. I roll my eyes and mutter, "Here we go." Seeking a distraction, I walk over to Elliott's coffee bar, the floorboards creaking slightly under my feet. I begin preparing a fresh pot, the familiar routine offering a momentary respite from the tension in the room. "We know he's planning on killing Kennedy," Diego finishes, his voice filled with a mix of triumph and urgency. As the coffee begins to brew, filling the air with its rich aroma, I lean against the wall, crossing my arms. The cool surface against my back contrasts sharply with the heat of the argument brewing in the room.

"Wow Diego, did he tell you that himself?" I ask sarcastically, glancing over at Five. His subtle head shake warns me not to get involved, but I can't help myself. The frustration of our situation is getting to all of us. Five's voice cuts through the tension. "Maybe. But we don't know who or what sets doomsday in motion. Could be Kennedy, could be something entirely different." His words hang in the air, a reminder of how little we truly understand about our predicament. The coffee pot gurgles as it finishes brewing. I pour myself a mug, the warmth seeping into my hands, grounding me. "Well if it's Kennedy, why was that not Doomsday in the original timeline?" I ask Five, my tone deliberately provocative. I'm mostly poking at Diego, trying to expose the holes in his theory. Five glares at me again, his patience clearly wearing thin. I roll my eyes and stir my coffee, the spoon clinking against the ceramic. "Because we're here," Five explains, his voice tight with barely contained irritation. "Something we did will change what happens." "How, if we don't even know what's been broken?" Allison asks from the couch, her voice laced with confusion and a hint of fear. I let out a huge laugh, the sound sharp and humorless. "Really? Do we need to do the math?" The bitterness in my voice surprises even me. "Y/n's right," Five interjects, his tone suggesting he's trying to regain control of the conversation. "We know that Dad's having some shady ass-meeting with some shady ass-people. We know he's on the grassy knoll when Kennedy is killed in 3 days. We all know what we have to do." He pauses, his eyes sweeping across the room, making sure he has everyone's attention.

The silence stretches, thick with anticipation. Even Klaus has stopped fidgeting, his usually restless energy momentarily stilled. "Find Dad," Five declares, his voice ringing with finality. "Kill Dad," Diego speaks at the exact same time, his words overlapping with Five's. The room erupts into chaos, everyone talking over each other. I take a sip of my coffee, wincing as the hot liquid burns my tongue. "Careful Diego, your Daddy issues are starting to show," I mutter, as I hand a mug to Five. The ceramic is warm against my palm, a stark contrast to the chill that's settled over the room. Diego's face contorts with anger. He goes to slap my arm, but Five, with his lightning-fast reflexes, catches him and throws him back into his chair. The sound of Diego's body hitting the seat punctuates the sudden silence. "None of us are supposed to be here, right?" Vanya asks, her soft voice somehow cutting through the tension. "So what if it's us?" "She's right," Five explains, his tone thoughtful. "We've all messed up the timeline somehow." I glance around the room, taking in the mix of confusion, fear, and determination on my siblings' faces. The weight of our responsibility seems to press down on all of us. "How?" Luther asks, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion. "Really? You don't know how?" I yell at him, my frustration finally boiling over. The coffee mug in my hand trembles slightly with the force of my emotions.

Luther shakes his head, looking bewildered and a little hurt. "Well, let me enlighten you," I continue, my voice rising with each word. "You're working for Jack Ruby. Klaus started a freaking cult. Allison and I are engaged in some pretty intense government issues. Diego is a freaking nut job according to the government. And that's everyone! Happy?" My outburst leaves the room in stunned silence. Luther nods, looking down at his hands. "Listen to yourselves," Diego says, breaking the tense quiet. "Everything is connected to Kennedy." "Will you please let go of your Kennedy obsession!?" I yell, my temper finally flaring up completely. The words tear from my throat, raw and heated. Suddenly, I felt a searing pain in my hand. Glancing down, I see my mug broken, shards of ceramic embedded in my palm. Blood begins to well up around the jagged pieces. "What the hell," I mutter, staring at my hand in shock. The pain hasn't fully registered yet, but I know it's coming. The room falls silent once again, all eyes on my injured hand.