Five has never expected that the smell of fresh baked cookies would make him feel bad. Everyone has their own way to handle stress when they're upset. He gets blackout drunk, his mom apparently cooks until there's no more room in the kitchen to fit a bagel. Overall, stress baking is a very human reaction.

Any sensible person would give Grace space or try to comfort her.

Five is not a sensible person.

He's practical. And he cares, of course, he does. There's nothing in the world that matters more to him than his disastrous family, which is why he knows most of them would get pissed off if they knew what he plans to do. The reasoning behind his plan is that you can't convince someone with words that they are more than a tool, you need to show them. Or better, let them realize it themselves.

There's no more humane reaction than anger.

A flash of blue light announces Five's arrival to the kitchen but Grace seems to be busy with her baking. He studies her for a second, the all too perfect hair and familiar dress, frowning at the view. The next second, the boy's sitting on the table and casually flipping one of the trays full of muffins. He watches as they go flying, the metal tray clanging loudly on the floor and then rolling in an arc before stopping by Grace's feet.

"Oops."