RUN BOY RUN- reader x Five Hargreeves

Part Four

The Hargreeves mansion loomed ominously as the children gathered at the base of the grand staircase. The polished marble steps stretched upward, a daunting challenge that embodied their father's relentless pursuit of excellence. Vanya stood apart, stopwatch in hand, her slight frame dwarfed by her siblings' anticipation. The shrill whistle pierced the air, setting off a chaotic scramble. Sneakers squeaked against marble, hands grasped at banisters, and labored breathing filled the air. Y/n's legs burned with exertion, her smaller stature a clear disadvantage. Suddenly, Five's hand clasped hers, cool and confident. In a disorienting blink, the world shifted, and they materialized at the summit. Luther's indignant cry echoed through the cavernous hall, his face flushed with more than just exertion. "That's not fair. Five and Y/n cheated!" Reginald Hargreeves' voice cut through the commotion like a scalpel, precise and devoid of warmth. "Five adapted. Number 8 took advantage of that." His monocle glinted in the light, a cold appraisal of his children's performances. 

The smell of antiseptic mingled with the metallic scent of blood. Y/n curled into Klaus's lanky frame, her sobs muffled against his chest. The fresh ink on her forearm felt like it was searing into her very soul, a permanent mark of ownership. Through a haze of tears, she caught sight of Five. His jaw was clenched tight, a muscle twitching beneath the skin. But his eyes... those eyes that had seen too much, held a softness reserved only for her. 'You're okay,' he mouthed, the words a silent lifeline in the storm of pain.Y/n managed a weak nod before burrowing deeper into Klaus's embrace. His hand rubbed soothing circles on her back, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears for his sister's pain.

Moonlight filtered through the heavy curtains of Y/n's bedroom, casting eerie shadows across the sleeping child's face. Reginald Hargreeves loomed over her bed, his tall frame blocking out what little light there was. With surgical precision, he adjusted a wire adhered to her temple, his eyes cold and calculating behind his monocle. In his dimly lit office, banks of monitors cast a sickly glow across Reginald's face. Each screen displayed vital signs and brainwave patterns of his "children." When he reached Vanya's monitor, the rapid, erratic beeping gave him pause. His pen scratched across paper, theories and plans forming in his mind, heedless of the emotional toll on the child behind the data.

Years passed, but the wounds remained fresh. The kitchen, once a battleground of strict meal times and enforced silence, now buzzed with a façade of normalcy. Y/n hunched over her laptop, fingers flying across the keys as she lost herself in clothing designs. Each sketch was an act of rebellion, a creative expression long denied. Klaus sprawled at the end of the table, long fingers plucking absently at a battered guitar. The discordant notes matched the chaos of his thoughts, a melodic representation of their fractured family. Five's frustration was palpable as he slammed cabinet doors, searching in vain. Allison's entrance broke the uneasy quiet, her voice tinged with concern. "Where's Vanya?" "Oh, she's gone," Klaus replied, his flippant tone earning a sharp slap from Y/n. The sound echoed in the cavernous kitchen, a reminder of how empty the house truly was. Y/n's explanation was tinged with exasperation, "You missed her. She left about an hour and a half ago." Her eyes flicked to the clock, marking yet another absence in their dwindling family.

Five's bitter declaration punctuated his fruitless search. "An entire square block. Forty-five bedrooms, 14 bathrooms, and not a single drop of coffee." The coffee maker hit the table with a dull thud, a small act of defiance against their father's lingering control. Allison's response was automatic, years of conditioning evident in her tone. "Dad hated caffeine." Klaus's laugh held no humor, only pain thinly veiled by sarcasm. "Well, he also hated children, and hey, he had plenty of us." Y/n's dry chuckle was a mirror of Klaus's pain, her eyes never leaving the screen before her. The designs took shape, each line a step further from the uniforms that had once defined them. "We're taking the car," Five stated out of nowhere.  "Where are you going?" Allison asked. "To get a decent cu[ of coffee," Five yelled at her, then turned to Y/n nodding off in teh direction of the car. She smiled and packed up her bag. "Do you know how to drive?" Allison asked, very confused. Five rolls his eyes in resounse. "I know how to do everything." 

Outside, The car's engine roared to life, a stark contrast to the quiet neighborhood surrounding the Academy. Five's hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white with determination. Y/n settled into the passenger seat, her body tense with anticipation. Griddy's neon sign cut through the night, a beacon of nostalgia and comfort food. Inside, the linoleum floor squeaked under their shoes, the air heavy with the scent of sugar and coffee. The waitress's assumption grated on their nerves, a stark reminder of the disconnect between their appearance and reality. "Can I get the kids a glass of milk?" Five's voice was sharp enough to cut glass. "The kid wants coffee, black." His eyes, ancient in a youthful face, dared her to argue. Y/n added her order, her tone brooking no argument. "I'll have coffee with creamer." Her fingers drummed an impatient rhythm on the counter.

As they sipped their coffee, the atmosphere shifted. The bell above the door chimed incessantly as men in dark suits filed in, their presence ominous in the once-cheerful diner. Five's hand inched towards the butter knife, its dull edge suddenly seeming very lethal. "Huh, that was fast. I thought I'd have more time before they found me," Five mused, his tone conversational despite the danger. The lead man's attempt at civility was paper-thin, his hand hovering near his concealed weapon. "Okay, let's all be professional about this, yeah? On your feet and come with me. They just want to talk." Five's reply was arctic. "I've got nothing to say." His fingers closed around the knife's handle, muscles coiled and ready to strike. Y/n's body tensed, years of training kicking in as she assessed threats and escape routes. Five's question hung in the air between them, loaded with meaning. "You want to lead, or should I?"

Her response was tinged with dark humor, a callback to lighter times. "This is your circus, you should be the ringmaster." What followed was a brutal ballet of violence. Five and Y/n moved in perfect synchronization, their bodies weapons honed by years of ruthless training. The diner became a battlefield, the sound of breaking bones and shattering glass a macabre symphony. Y/n's scream of pain as a knife sliced through her leg was quickly followed by a display of raw power. Her attacker flew through the air, crashing through the plate glass window in a shower of glittering shards. In the aftermath, Five moved with cold efficiency, checking for survivors. The snap of a neck punctuated the eerie silence that had fallen over the diner. Y/n stood amid the carnage, her clothes spattered with blood, holding a blinking tracker and a bloodied knife. 

"Let's get this tracker out of you," she said, her voice steady despite the pain radiating from her leg. The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across their faces as Y/n cut into Five's arm, their eyes locked in a moment of silent communication. Outside, the tracker fell into a murky puddle with a soft 'plop', a small victory against their unseen enemies. In the car, Five's hand lingered on Y/n's cheek, thumb gently wiping away a smear of blood. "Hey princess," his voice softened, a rare moment of tenderness, "do you know where Vanya lives?"As they drove off into the night, the weight of their past and the uncertainty of their future hung heavy in the air. They were warriors, survivors, and above all, family – bound by blood, both their own and that of their enemies. The city lights blurred past, each mile taking them further from the nightmare at Griddy's, but closer to answers they weren't sure they were ready to face.