The Cost of Time- Five Hargreeves x OC story

Old Friendships

It was dark now—the second nightfall of the day. Strangely, it wasn't the craziest thing that had happened. I sat at the bar, idly clutching a glass of old bourbon that Klaus had opened earlier, trying to focus on some random, dusty book I'd pulled from the shelves near the fireplace. But my eyes kept scanning the same line, over and over again, unable to concentrate. Eventually, I gave up, closing the book with a sigh and leaning my head on my hand.

I couldn't stop my intrusive thoughts from creeping in—the ones I'd been trying to avoid. What was my plan now? How was I supposed to move forward, to "catch up" when my siblings were grown up, changed, and soon to be gone again? Everything I knew had shifted in the blink of an eye, and I wasn't even sure who I was supposed to be anymore.

A soft knock at the end of the bar pulled me from my trance. Blinking, I lifted my head to find Vanya standing there. "You okay? I called you twice," she said gently, studying me with a concerned gaze, as if I were something fragile.

"Yeah, yeah. Memorials tire me out," I replied, forcing a light-hearted tone to dissolve the tension.

As kids, Vanya and I had been close. She understood me in ways the others didn't, maybe because we were both a little different. I'd always wondered what might have been if I hadn't ended up in a coma, if Ben hadn't died, if Five hadn't vanished the way he did. I missed everyone—I missed my family. But there was no way things would ever be the same again.

Vanya gave me a sad smile. "I'm leaving in a few minutes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Being here doesn't feel right."

I could see the hesitation in her eyes, the lingering feeling of not belonging."You had the misfortune of growing up here, so like it or not, you belong here just as much as any of us." I replied, hoping to make her feel a little less like an outsider.

"Thanks." She paused, looking away. "I'm sorry you were stuck here all this time. Dad couldn't have made it any easier."

Her words hit deep. It wasn't her fault, none of it was, but it was the first time anyone acknowledged that I'd been alone. I forced a tired smile. "For the most part, I'm sane. I had Mom and Pogo. I'll be fine."

We fell into a silence that felt both familiar and strange, like the ghosts of conversations we'd once shared but could no longer find. The connection we'd had was still there, but worn thin with time and distance.

"I don't want to overstep," Vanya said softly, "but... if you still want to talk, my taxi is almost here." The offer felt like a bridge, a chance to catch up on over a decade of lost time.

"Actually, yeah, I'd like that, I'm not in a hurry to do anything else." I replied with a bit of sarcasm, hinting at my nonexistent life outside this mansion.

She gave me a reassuring nod. "I'll wait by the door. See you in a sec?" She says, heading toward the mansion's entrance, almost as if to reassure me that I really am leaving with her.

"Wait—no goodbyes?" I asked, wondering if she'd let the others know she was leaving.

She stopped, giving a small shrug. "Honestly? They couldn't care less, Soph," she replied, her voice a sad murmur, defeated. A pang of guilt shot through me; I had no idea what she had gone through while I was, well, out. But I'd read her book, seen glimpses of her side of things, and it made me feel like a stranger in my own family.

"I'll grab my things," I murmured, slipping off the barstool.

On my way to my room, I passed Diego, who emerged from the hallway, heading toward the stairs. "Pack up. We're leaving," he announced, as if we'd planned it all along.

I stopped mid-step, turning to stare at him. "What? Why?"

"Because you're not staying here. I'll start the car," he replied, as if it was obvious.

"Diego, I'm not leaving Mom. I can take care of myself—you should, too," I said coldly, starting to walk away.

But Diego's voice pulled me back. "He's not here anymore, Soph. I know it still feels like it, but you're not trapped here. You have a choice."

"I don't have a choice. I haven't had one since I woke up in that hospital bed. I was gone, but the world kept spinning. My place is here because I don't think I can have one anywhere else," I say quietly, the words carrying a weight I hadn't fully felt until now. Admitting it, finally putting it out there, settles over me like a strange sort of relief.

Diego just looks at me, speechless, unable to find the right thing to say. I sigh, my gaze drifting to my arm, tracing the scar left by a surgery my mom told me I needed after the accident. Another scar, faint but there, crosses my chest. They've both healed by now, yet they still feel foreign to me—a reminder of everything I've missed.

"We'll talk later," Diego mutters, avoiding my eyes as he walks away. I know he won't let this go; my brother never does. I hardly know what happened to them after Ben died and I was trapped in that hospital bed—a fixture in my childhood room—but it's clear they didn't carry on as if nothing had changed.

Finally, I turn toward my room and push open the door, scanning for what to bring with me. I grab the small black backpack hanging off my closet door and shove in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. My eyes land on the worn teddy bear perched on my bed—the one link to any normal childhood I might have had. Brown with a little white bow around its neck, it looks almost silly to me now. But I grab it anyway, sitting on the bed with my backpack beside me.

"Guess I really can't escape this place, huh?" I murmur, tucking the bear inside the bag and zipping it shut. Slinging the pack over my shoulder, I head out of the room.

As I left my room, I spotted Mom dusting paintings in the hallway. She glanced at the backpack on my shoulder and smiled, as if I was heading out for an ordinary outing. "Have fun, sweetheart. Would you like anything to eat before you go?"

"No, I'm fine, Mom, I'll be back by tomorrow" I replied softly. She just smiled, turning back to her dusting. I looked at her for a long moment. She must've been so lonely all those years, taking care of me, dealing with Dad. That wasn't easy, even for her.

Taking a steadying breath, I headed downstairs to meet Vanya. Even though I'd be back by tomorrow, the weight of leaving, even just for the night, felt monumental.

. . . . .

SORRY FOR THE VERY LATE CHAPTER

I honestly thought I had sm time to write but then writers block hit me and I had nothing

idk why I decided to start this project during my final yr of high school but I'm not stopping, I love doing this and more chapters are currently in the works and will hopefully be out soon :))

(college apps are killing me help)