Wonder • Five Hargreeves

24

Man on the Moon

Touch starved.

He was touch starved.

Winnie and Five had laid down in the back of the van, awaiting dawn to (nicely) confront Lance the doctor/suspect. They had a good 4 hours to catch up on some sleep before then.

It was 2 hours into the night when Winnie had her realization.

Fives head rested heavily on her chest, with and arm wrapped across her waist for comfort. He was so peaceful and calm. Without such stressful and strenuous thoughts weighing down his every action, Winnie finally saw the boy she fell in love with all those years ago.

And with that, she started to recognize some very innate differences. Not like the obvious differences when he was awake like his cold, off-put personality or his general ease with the world. Not anything superficial, either, like his clothes or height.

No, the fundamental differences.

Five- never used to hold her like that when he slept.

He never used to crane into her touch, when she went to brush his hair. And he most definitely, never used to shutter like he lost his breath, when Winnie tried to move.

Winnie gently took her hand to his cheek and rubbed the soft skin of his temple. Five breathed in... and sighed contently, sinking a little more into Winnie. His arm tightened around her waist.

Oh no oh no oh no. Winnie felt her her heart spike as she thought this over. Five. Her Five. So many years without her, or anyone that could touch him like that. Oh no. So many years. Oh god.

(Why was getting shot at so much easier than figuring out how badly her loved one hurt?)

Sure, she knew he was a little messed up from not having anyone around growing up. He was weird. Withdrawn, even. It wasn't hard to see!

This... was. Touch Starvation. Easily hidden beneath her own need to touch him. Easily buried in the back of the closet where the rest of his skeletons sat.

Five used to sleep on his back, Winnie thought. Always insisted on it. Logistically, he'd once told her, it was the best way to sleep. But they both knew  it was because Winnie liked to nap on his chest during their lazy Sundays.

Winnie rubbed his cheek gently once more, and again he subconsciously shifted toward it. Winnie felt her breath catch in her throat.

He was starved. Oh god, what cruel fates would deny basic comfort to someone like Five? He was starved.

Winnie didn't know she was crying until her tears fell hotly off her face, leaving cold trails in their place. She didn't know she was sobbing, either, until she had to muffle the sound. Both of her hands were brought up to cover her mouth.

Her Dad was dead. Her siblings were fighting, and trying to kill her Mom. She was being hunted down by killer mascots. Oh yeah, and the world could possibly end in few days.

But Winnie Hargreeves, with all her stress... she cried for Five.

Five woke up with a start, and quickly pulled himself up and to the side of Winnie. He scanned her for a moment wordlessly, stopping to look at her watery blue eyes.

"Whats wrong dear?" He asked in a low voice, still dazed from lack of sleep. He reached over her and delicately wiped off a tear from her opposite cheek.

It only made Winnie cry harder. His eyes widened and he went to pull away, like he hurt her, but Winnie caught his hand. She clasped both her hands around his and breathed a soggy breath.