Number Five Imagines

No longer alone

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Summary: The Apocalypse has left scars on Five's soul that will never fully heal

A/N: I never understood why Five's trauma was never discussed again after season 1?

Warnings: anxiety /PTSD / trauma

The apocalypse had left scars on Five Hargreeves that no amount of time or love could fully heal. They weren't physical scars—those had long since faded—but the ones buried deep in his mind, the ones that replayed the horrors he had seen, refused to be silenced. He had lived alone for decades in that wasteland, fighting for survival, enduring loneliness, every day a new terrible challenge. Even though he had escaped that reality, even though he had built a life with Y/n, his wife and anchor, the shadows of the apocalypse never truly left him.

Things had gotten better since he and Y/n had built a home together. She was his light, the one who kept him tethered to the present when the past threatened to pull him under. But there were days when those memories clawed their way to the surface, days when Five felt like he was right back in the middle of that desolation.

It started as a normal day. Five had been home alone, working in his study, while Y/n was out shopping. The morning had been quiet—almost too quiet. As he sat at his desk, the silence began to press against him, heavy and suffocating. His pen stilled against the paper as a familiar unease settled in his chest. His breathing grew shallow, his heartbeat quickening as his thoughts began to spiral.

He closed his eyes, trying to push the memories away, but it was no use. The silence wasn't just silence anymore—it was the oppressive stillness of the apocalypse. The faint creak of the house became the distant groan of collapsing buildings. The ticking of the clock on the wall morphed into the eerie sound of distant winds sweeping across barren wastelands.

Five clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as he tried to ground himself. "You're not there anymore," he whispered to himself, his voice trembling. "You're home. You're safe."

But the memories wouldn't listen. They came rushing back in vivid detail—the smell of ash, the taste of despair, the crushing weight of loneliness. Five's chest tightened, and before he knew it, he was on the floor, his knees pulled to his chest, his body rocking back and forth as he tried to fight the rising tide of panic.

When Y/n returned home, she immediately noticed something was wrong. She stepped through the front door, her arms full of grocery bags, and called out, "Five? I'm back!" But there was no response.

Her brow furrowed as she set the bags down on the kitchen counter. The house felt...off. Quiet, too quiet. She walked through the hallway, her steps quickening as worry began to gnaw at her.

She found him in the study, sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. His body was curled in on itself, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, and he was rocking back and forth. His eyes were open but unfocused, staring at something that wasn't there.

"Five?" Y/n's voice was soft but urgent as she dropped to her knees beside him. "Five, it's me. I'm here."

He didn't respond. His breaths were coming in quick, shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling as though he had just run a marathon. Y/n's heart ached at the sight of him like this—so strong and composed on the outside, yet so vulnerable in moments like these.

She reached out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Five, can you hear me? It's Y/n. You're home. You're safe."

For a moment, there was no change. Then, slowly, Five's eyes flicked to hers. They were wide and glassy, filled with a mix of fear and confusion. "Y/n?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Y/n nodded, her other hand coming up to cup his cheek. "Yes, it's me. You're safe now. You're not there anymore."

Five's breathing hitched, and a tear slid down his cheek. "It felt so real," he choked out. "I thought... I thought I was back there. I couldn't get out."

Y/n's heart broke at his words, but she kept her voice steady and calm. "You're not there anymore, Five. You're here, with me. Just focus on my voice, okay? Stay with me."

She guided him through deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling slowly to help him calm down. Her hands never left him, offering him a physical anchor to reality. Gradually, his breathing began to slow, and the tension in his body eased. His gaze cleared, and he looked at her as if truly seeing her for the first time.

"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely, his voice filled with guilt. "I didn't mean for you to see me like this."

Y/n shook her head, her thumb brushing away the tears on his cheek. "You don't have to apologize, Five. You've been through so much. It's okay to have moments like this. I'm here for you."

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. "You shouldn't have to deal with this. I should be stronger."

"You are strong," Y/n said firmly. "But even the strongest people need help sometimes. You don't have to carry this alone. We're a team, remember?"

Five nodded, his lips twitching into a faint, grateful smile. "Yeah. A team."

Y/n pulled him into a tight hug, holding him close as he rested his head against her shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, the warmth of her embrace grounding him in the present. Slowly but surely, the shadows of the past began to retreat, leaving him with the comforting reminder that he was no longer alone.

That evening, as they sat together on the couch, Y/n handed him a cup of tea and nestled beside him. Five held her hand, his grip firm yet gentle, as if afraid she might slip away.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his eyes meeting hers.

"For what?" Y/n asked, tilting her head.

"For being my anchor. For pulling me back when I get lost."

Y/n smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Always."

Five knew the scars of the apocalypse would never fully fade. But with Y/n by his side, he also knew he could face whatever came his way. Because no matter how dark his memories became, she was his light—the one who made him believe that even after everything, he could still find peace.