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Amidst the clusterfuck that was navigating yet another new timeline, trying to undo the repercussions of their world-altering fuckups, dealing with Dad and the Sparrows and Ben (who was alive and looked like their Ben but behaved miles away from him, approaching them like prey instead of family), and figuring out a place for the first inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy in a world that wasn’t familiar with them beyond their Dallas escapades, Viktor figured that now was as good a time as any to come out to his siblings.
The realization had been brewing for a while, simmering like live wires under his skin.
Skin which had never felt quite right.
Growing up, it was easy to wave off the discomfort he felt as being caused by the ostracization and exclusion he felt from his family, and later, as he’d learned, as discomfort born from being separated from the knowledge of his powers.
It was easy, when Leonard came along, to let himself be loved (read: played like a fiddle ) even if he wasn’t really attracted to him for the sheer fact that it was nice just to feel wanted by someone.
After blowing up the world and landing in Dallas with his memories blocked, it was easier to explore himself with a mind separated from his reality once again. This time, it wasn’t being blocked from his powers, but from his past and memories of the family that had prevented him from fully examining how he felt.
Falling in love with Sissy was easy. Loving Sissy was real . That much was clear: he liked girls, not boys.
But it felt uncomfortable still when Sissy would say things like, “they do not abide women like us,” and there was something that felt off about being called “sister” by the group of siblings he’d come to know. It was a familiar discomfort that wasn’t born from not being reconnected with his memories yet.
And then, he had remembered everything, in painful detail — Reginald buying him from his mother in Russia, the mother tongue coming too easily to him in their training. Their fucked up childhoods, the painful loneliness, the book, the apocalypse, everything.
And he remembered how pervasive that uncomfortable feeling under his skin had been, like a lit fuse prickling throughout his body.
The discomfort he’d felt from being excluded most of his life hadn’t explained why memories of “yay sisters” twisted in his gut — he’d wanted the kinship but not that term.
It hadn’t explained why even though he’d picked the name himself, “Vanya” never felt quite right either. Sometimes he felt like he understood Five in refusing a name, why going by a number might be more appealing.
Loneliness hadn’t explained why he felt both relief and jealousy at Klaus’ casual ease when it came to wearing Mom’s heels and Allison’s clothes, painting his nails and wearing makeup, and even buying (well, stealing) his own gender-non-conforming clothes. At his open flirting with men (and anyone that moved), uncaring of what anyone thought. He envied Klaus’ security in himself, his freedom. Klaus had never come out to them, never used labels, but he didn’t need to.
They all took it in stride. When your family has powers and one of your caretakers is a robot and another is a talking chimp, someone wearing clothes not originally intended for their body or liking someone of the opposite sex wasn’t a big deal.
The realization was an explosion waiting to happen. A bomb clock ticking backward, T minus seven.
But instead of a bomb dropping and destroying the world, the moment the realization clicked felt like relief, the opposite of a bomb went off – fixing things, creating hope.
So after long nights of churning these thoughts in his mind, testing out different looks in front of their new bedroom mirror —
(because Dad in this timeline remembered them from Dallas, and was still an asshole, so they’d been banned from the mansion and had to figure out where to live and how to pay for their survival on their own — thankfully Al’s basement and Viktor’s old apartment had still been available those first few weeks, and after a while, Allison was able to rumor them into better housing and necessities. Diego lockpicked (or Five jumped in and out when he deemed Diego was taking too long) places as necessary, Luther used his strength to intimidate if needed, and Klaus stole the rest. They all made it work. Team Zero, like Diego liked to call them all for some reason)
— sounding out different names on his tongue until one felt right, choosing ‘Viktor’ as an homage to his Russian heritage, —
(It was just as freeing as picking the name for himself the first time when they were old enough to, and Mom helped them find names that reflected their heritage if asked. They had all just been looking for a piece of themselves, for an origin story they could call home)
— Viktor cuts his hair and dons a leather jacket and hoodie combo that reminds him of their Ben, and re-introduces himself to his siblings.
It wasn’t the weirdest thing that happened to their family.
“I had a feeling you were an egg that just needed to be cracked,” Klaus teased, pointing his finger at him and then pulling him in for a hug. “A fellow queer knows these things,” he said sagely. Then he looked him up and down. “So do you want style tips or…?”
“Not all of us want to look like we belong on Brokeback Mountain , Klaus,” Diego called from his position perched on the couch where he’d been sharpening his knives. Diego winked at him.
Klaus whirled around and the two started arguing about their respective fashion senses.
“Yeah? You’re one to talk, Mr. Caveman! You know, I almost miss the wannabe dungeon master look, you need a trim–”
“Hey you told me I looked like Antonio Banderas, and you wanna throw stones? You could practically braid your beard from what I saw in those portraits of you!”
“It was a spiritual statement and you can see now that I’ve shaved! I’m not knocking your look entirely, I’m just saying, maybe clean it up a little…”
Their squabble fades into the background.
“So let me get this straight, I’m the only sister of the family?” Allison clarified.
“Unless you count our… possible relation to the Crows–” Luther starts.
“Sparrows,” Five corrected.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Viktor finished, shifting on his feet with his hands in his pockets.
Five turned to Viktor, regarding him with that familiar kindness in his eyes. “It’s nice to know I have at least one brother who isn’t an idiot,” he says and jumps away.
Allison nods. “Well, I can’t deny that there’s a part of me that will miss having a sister–”
“What, am I not providing enough feminine energy for you?” Klaus piped up in mock offense.
Allison rolled her eyes. “But I love you just as much as a brother and I’m sorry in advance if it takes me a while to get the right name and pronouns down,” she finished.
Viktor nods. “I figured. I don’t expect you all to get it right away, I just… wanted to get it out there. Because I want to start transitioning, and I figure we’ve all had enough surprises in our lives.”
“If you need someone who’s familiar with a needle to help you with your T-shots, I offer my expertise,” Klaus offers.
Diego punches him.
“Ow! Asshole, I was talking about my tattoos.”
Viktor turns to Luther, who he’d been most nervous about. Luther seems to realize there’s a response expected of him and he raises his hands placatingly, trying to make his huge frame seem smaller. Briefly, Viktor is reminded of the apology at the barn.
“Viktor…” he starts, euphoria blooming in Viktor’s heart at hearing one of his siblings call him by the right name for the first time. “We grew up with Klaus. There are a lot of things I don’t understand about the world, but I do get one thing: you’re my sibling. And I want to continue to be a better brother to you. To all of you. So if this makes you happy, if this is who you are, like Allison, I might slip up sometimes, but it’s not because I hate you or who you are. I’m just adjusting. Things happen so fast in our lives it’s hard for me to keep up sometimes,” he gives a small self-deprecating laugh.
The relief and warmth that floods Viktor’s chest are palpable, and he can’t help but rush forward for a hug.
“I love this family,” he reasserts, as Klaus yells “Group hug!” and catapults himself down from the perch with Diego to squeeze close. Allison joins, resting her head on top of Viktor’s new haircut, and Five jumps back in as if sensing the bonding moment to pat him on the back.
Viktor lets himself sink into the hug. Despite the foreign nature of this timeline, he felt at home, both in his skin and from being accepted wholly by his family for once.
***
A few weeks after Viktor came out to all of them, Diego knocks on the doorframe of his room one afternoon.
“Hey, I found a coffee shop nearby, I’m taking Klaus. He needs to get out of the house before he starts peeling off the wallpaper, and I figured he could use a sober alternative to the usual gay bars. Come with us?” He asks, eyebrows soft.
Viktor smiles, jumping off his bed at the chance to be included. “Yeah! I’ve never been to a gay coffee shop before. Or a gay bar. Or anywhere actually…” he trails off.
Diego claps him on the shoulder. “Klaus introduced me to my first gay bars, it’s my turn to pass the torch. You can pay it forward the next time one of us comes out,” he said, only half-joking as they head to the front door where Klaus had been waiting for them, practically vibrating with pent-up energy.
***
The place was annoyingly cozy and kitsch, full of mismatched couches and armchairs, with rainbow fairy lights and pride flags of all sorts adorning the walls. A small stage was available for aspiring poets and musicians and… interpretive dancers, it looked like, to share their work. The sound of blenders and grinders pierced the air occasionally.
Klaus started with something called a unicorn frappuccino, a cotton-candy-colored abomination topped with whipped cream and caramel ribbons, and edible glitter.
The barista handed it to him with a wink and a quip of “Taste the rainbow.”
“Is there even caffeine in that thing?” Diego asked, glaring at the drink like it was about to grow an actual horn and impale him.
“Says the man who could have gotten anything and chose to go for the hot bean water ,” Klaus said, pointing to Diego’s black coffee.
“Nah, he’s a classics man, like Five. I respect it,” Viktor offered in his defense, taking his chai latte from the pretty barista with a grateful smile, letting the warmth from the cup seep into his fingers.
“Exactly, thank you,” Diego said.
The place was crowded, but Klaus spotted a lone booth in the back corner by a window and dove for it, Diego sitting next to him while Viktor sat across.
“Sooo…” Klaus started, stirring the straw in his drink (gold striped, presumably to look like a unicorn horn) and kicking one leg over the other. “Just three bros, sitting in a cramped booth, right next to each other because there are no seats left,” he sing-songed in a jingle.
Viktor snorted.
Diego raised a brow.
“It’s a Vine reference,” Viktor explained, half-smiling. “You know, ‘Two bros, sitting in a hot tub, five feet apart cuz they’re not gay,’” he recited, Klaus joining in.
Diego still looks confused.
“The app?” Klaus tries to clarify before the thought occurs to him — “Hey do you think Vine is still around in this timeline?”
Viktor slid his phone over so Klaus could check.
Sadly, it was not.
“You know I had a flip phone for like twelve years right? I had to borrow Allison’s phone to look up this place. And we used Viktor’s phone for directions to get here.”
“God, I swear you’re almost as much of an old man as Five is. You’ve never even watched a Vine compilation on YouTube?”
Diego shrugged. “We’ve been busy , Klaus. Don’t know if you’ve noticed.”
Klaus groaned.
“Anyway, welcome to the unofficial Hargreeves Family Queer Support Group,” Klaus crowed. “We have meetings once every decade or so, who knows what time is anymore.”
Viktor looked at Diego. “So you’re…?”
“Bi.” He confirms.
Viktor nods, Diego definitely gave off that energy.
“Every decade?” Viktor asks, looking between the two of them.
Klaus grins knowingly, looking at Diego expectantly while he sipped.
Diego rolls his eyes. “Back when I’d just gotten into the police academy, Klaus roped me into a celebratory bar crawl, which ended with me coming out to him and some strangers and…” he gestures at Klaus’ palms, “Klaus’ tattoos.”
“And Diego got a very fun little–”
“No! You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone,” Diego interrupts, glaring. Klaus mimics zipping his lips and throwing away the key, but winks at Viktor when Diego isn’t looking, mouthing “ I’ll tell you later .”
“Point is, you’re not alone in being part of our family and part of the LGBTQ community,” Diego says, taking in a few warm mouthfuls of coffee and sighing when it scalded his throat.
“So, three of the six of us left, half the family — not bad,” Klaus thinks aloud, then leans forward conspiratorially. “We can’t be the only ones though. How much do you wanna bet that we’re all scattered somewhere across the alphabet?”
Diego smirks into his coffee at the thought. “I wish our version of the old man was still around just so we could rub it into his face.”
Klaus nods, wrinkling his nose. “Those uniforms were just terrible.”
“I hated wearing those skirts. I was glad when he let me start wearing pants.” Viktor says.
Klaus nods, lifting a hand in agreement. “See? And he never let me switch out for a skirt, he always made me give Allison’s back. He didn’t listen when I tried to convince him that combat skirts were a thing.”
“You mean kilts?” Diego asks.
“Aw man, that’s the word I had been looking for. Yes, kilts.”
“I mean what did it even matter what we wore if we were there to fight crime?”
“Or there to stand on the sidelines,” Viktor added.
“Maybe that’s why he let you wear pants, you weren’t in the public eye. No offense. But since Klaus was, he didn’t want to have anyone ruin his perfect little curated image of a perfectly run, normal school–”
“As normal as anyone can be with our powers.” Klaus harumphs.
They’re silent for a moment. Klaus continues, “So, if we’re speculating, who else in the family?”
“I think Five is asexual. Or aromantic, or both. Maybe. I mean, he’s what, a hundred years old or something and his only and longest relationship was with a mannequin.” Diego thinks aloud.
“Yeah, but he spent most of that in an apocalypse, there wasn’t exactly a lot of availability? And that kind of isolation, it does stuff to the brain.” Viktor explains.
Diego tilts his head. “Yeah but then he had access to all sorts of people from all sorts of times from The Commission. He could’ve branched out if he wanted to. Literally.”
“He was focused on getting back to us.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Diego concedes, sitting back.
“Luther is a furry,” Klaus volunteers.
Diego chokes on the mouthful of coffee he’d been sipping. “No,” he shakes his head.
“Well, maybe he’s not a furry, but he definitely lost his virginity to one,” Klaus continued, but Diego raised his hand. “No, I mean I don’t wanna know.”
Viktor looked between them, then begged, “I gotta know.”
“Back in apocalypse week, take one, he was all upset because he found out Dad sent him to the moon for basically no reason, and he went out and went on a solo bar crawl, ended up at an EDM rave where someone had given him ecstasy so he had taken his shirt off, and I– uh, blacked out and met dear old Dad and God who is such a bitch , by the way–”
Viktor and Diego exchange glances.
“--and when I went to wake everyone up the next morning he had her on his bed,” he finished, giggling.
“I thought Luther had a crush on Allison, or vice versa. You told me in the salon in Dallas? And I remember how they’d sneak off with each other when they were kids. I think my perspective on it was clouded by how alone I felt all the time so I just saw it as One and Three going off to spend time being awesome together without me, but….” Viktor asked Klaus, trailing off.
“Yeah… young love, those crazy kids,” Klaus says, waving a hand with a reminiscent smile on his face.
“Aside from that, I don’t think Allison is on our team. She’s been married twice now. Nothing more heteronormative than marriage and a kid.” Diego says.
“Allison is an actor though.” Klaus butts in.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You never saw that Tom Hardy headline, ‘I’m an actor, of course I’ve had gay sex’? It’s like industry standard.”
“But isn’t that the same as gay for pay? It’s not actual orientation, it’s just a job.” Diego argues.
“But people choose which roles to take, especially Allison, you know that.”
“Maybe… we should stop speculating on our siblings and just focus on us? If anyone else wants to come out they’ll do it on their own time if they need to,” Viktor says diplomatically, wanting to defuse the situation before they started arguing.
“Speaking of coming out, how and when did you realize you were strictly Viktor and not Victoria?” Klaus asked, emphasizing the ‘k’ sound in ‘Viktor’.
Diego squints at Klaus. Klaus looks back.
“What, Victor/Victoria ? Not even that reference? God, you’re no fun. Please tell me you’ve at least watched Rocky Horror . Or Kinky Boots . Rent ?” He complained.
“You and I shared the same sheltered childhood, Klaus!”
“Oh please, we still managed to sneak out to watch movies and sneak in porno magazines, and we’ve had at least 12 years to ourselves away from him — Vik gets the reference, what’s your excuse? And how do you know Brokeback Mountain but not Rent ?”
Diego shrugs. Klaus sighs and pats his shoulder. “We’re definitely getting Netflix or raiding a video store after this, you are in desperate need of some queer education.”
Klaus turns back to look at Viktor expectantly.
He sighs, fiddling with the lid of his coffee cup. “I just always thought this… inherent sense of not belonging came from feeling like I didn’t fit in with you guys because I didn’t have powers, but I’ve realized it’s more than that. Even with powers, and even after learning to control them, I had to confront the fact that my everything else didn’t feel right either. It was my gender that was off.
“And sure, maybe part of it is… still reclaiming autonomy and a sense of personhood and identity away from what Dad has made us think we’ve had to be our whole lives? But I feel more like myself, and happy to be myself, than I have my whole life. No drugs, no lies, no isolation, no amnesia, no out-of-control powers. I’m just me and I know who I am now, and for once I’m happy with that.”
“I think we understand how that feels, that wanting to reclaim yourself after everything we went through,” Diego says, Klaus nodding in agreement.
“Harold and Sissy helped me realize it, in their own ways,” Viktor explains, “That thing with Leonard or Harold, whoever he was…” he shuddered. “I was still figuring out who I was. And that was mostly about the feeling of being wanted, if I'm honest? I had a crush on Helen at the time, but she was kind of cold toward me. Before she went… missing…” Viktor trailed off, guilt coloring his voice. “Sissy helped me realize I like women only. And I just slowly came to the realization that I’m not a lesbian, but a straight man,” he said with confidence.
“Love can help you reveal things about yourself,” Klaus agreed.
“You sound like you talk from experience,” Viktor commented. “You’ve loved someone before?”
“Oh sure, I’ve had flings, and orgies, and kinky sex—Diego knows—“ he winked, recalling the “I’m going to beat you, and not in the way you like it” comment Diego had made when Viktor had been about to blow up the world again in that hallway in Dallas.
“But I’ve really only ever loved one man. Still love.” He says, fiddling with the dog tags around his neck. “Dave,” he sighed mournfully.
“What happened between you two?” Viktor asks, voice soft.
“Well, I guess we were a little doomed from the start when we weren’t even from the same time period,” he starts.
“I had taken one of those time-traveling briefcases after Hazel and Cha-Cha kidnapped me, and opened it when I escaped — I thought there was money or something in it — and landed in the middle of the Vietnam War, almost landing in the lap of the most gorgeous, beautiful man… I was confused and scared shitless and was going through withdrawals, but he was always there, eager to show me the ropes, to introduce himself to me, and it just progressed naturally.” His face gets dreamy, remembering their nights at the bar, the tattoos they got together.
“We had almost a year together,” Klaus says, twirling the tag around his finger. He looks down. “And then the war took him.”
He sips his frap and tosses it aside half-heartedly when it doesn’t satisfy the burn, taking Diego’s black coffee out of his hand and downing the rest of it in a few gulps. He twists his face. “Yep, bitter bean water, that does the trick.” He drums his hands on the table. “Espresso? I’m going to get us some espressos. I need something that feels like shots.” He says, sliding out under the booth and leaving to go back to the order counter.
“Replace my black coffee that you backwashed in!” Diego calls after him, Klaus waving a hand at him as he saunters toward the counter.
Viktor turns to Diego. “Did you know?”
Diego gives a so-so movement with his hand. “That week before the apocalypse, halfway through, Klaus asked me to take him to a VFW bar. He was quiet, which was so unlike him, and he had three new tattoos overnight — which maybe isn’t unusual, but they were specific. That one on his arm? That’s the battalion he served with. He was in the shit while he was there. We got to the bar, Klaus knew right where to go, found a picture of his troop on the wall — sure enough, he’s standing next to some guy.”
“Did you talk about it?”
“No, we got into a bar fight and then Patch happened, and the rest of that week… we haven’t had time.” He sighs.
“Oh. Sorry about Patch. And… well, everyone.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Viktor raised a brow.
“Not your intention,” Diego corrects himself, setting their empty cups aside to throw away later.
Klaus comes back with an army of tiny cups and a replacement drip.
“They’re so cute but so harsh,” he comments, indicating he’d already downed a shot at the bar.
“What, are you gunning to be Five now? Take it easy on the caffeine, we don’t need you up all night.” Diego said, taking his new coffee and guarding it.
Klaus snorted. “I’ve been on way worse that’s kept me up for far longer, brother dear. Espresso is nothing.” He tosses back another cup and groans at the bitterness.
Viktor and Diego hesitantly take a shot each, if only to keep the clutch from all going down Klaus’ throat. Viktor adds it to his latte, making it dirty, while Diego watches, shrugs, and adds it to his drip to make a red-eye.
“Sorry about your lost love, Klaus,” Viktor comments.
“Dave, his name was Dave.”
“Well then, to Dave, to Patch, to Sissy, and to everyone else we’ve loved and lost or had to leave behind,” Viktor says, holding up his cup for a toast. They clink their cups, the sound not quite as satisfying as the sound of glass hitting glass, but the sentiment was there and that was what mattered.
Diego clears his throat. “Viktor… I want to apologize for how I treated you when we were kids. And later, even after we grew up, after you wrote your memoir I iced you out.”
“We all had our reasons to be angry. We just ended up taking it out on each other instead of on the one person who really deserved it, Dad.” Viktor explains.
Diego shakes his head.
“Look, I know God or Dad or the universe or whatever is hell-bent on making you the bomb in every timeline, but you’re not the bomb. At least, not on your own. We all have a part to play in that, Dad most of all. He’s the one that ‘built’ you and set you off in our original timeline, by making Allison rumor you into forgetting your powers, by drugging you your whole life. It’s our fault for excluding you, because powers or not you grew up with us and you’re still our sibling. Dad sending Luther to the moon and letting him practically terraform it for optimal blasting power didn’t help either, I’m sure. He took away your autonomy as much as he did ours. Not to mention what he programmed into Mom, or making Pogo complicit…” Diego trails off. “It’s everyone’s mess. The bomb isn’t to blame, the bomb-makers are.”
Viktor stirs the cinnamon stick in his latte. “Thanks, Diego.”
He’s quiet for a moment, watching the cinnamon specks swirl in his cup as he lets the words sink in.
“You know what? I don’t mind being the bomb, actually. I spent years , most of my life, feeling weak and powerless and insignificant, and just not right in so many ways. I know it’s been years for Klaus and a few more months compared to me for you Diego — but learning that I have powers and that I’m trans, it’s all just been a few eye-opening, wild few months for me, and despite all the awfulness, they’ve also been some of the best months of my life? Because for once in my life, I have power, I have a voice, I feel connected with you guys more than I have my whole life, I’ve fallen in love and saved people—” he thinks of Harlan, Sissy, and his siblings in the barn fight.
“— as much as I’ve inadvertently destroyed them. I’m in control of my powers now, I know who I am, and I have you guys. And none of it would’ve happened if I wasn’t the bomb. We’d still be stuck, all scattered across the states and the moon and time, not really knowing each other, not able to work to move past our shitty childhoods.” He takes a deep breath before continuing.
“So yeah, maybe I’m the bomb, whether I made me or Dad and other people made me, I don’t know, but I’m okay being the bomb. I’ve embraced it. Who else can say they have the power to end the world twice? Those Sparrows, they might be strong, and they might be dicks, but I’m stronger. We are stronger, together. You all proved that both times you saved me.”
“Hell yeah, Team Zero,” Diego says, and they knock cups together again.
Klaus agrees, “Yeah, I mean, we should all just stop worrying and learn to love the bomb, you know? Like Dr. Strangelove.”
“I never saw that movie.”
“Well then, I think we should find out where it’s streaming or rent it somewhere and watch it.” He pauses. “Hey, you wonder how much pop culture Five and Luther must’ve missed out on while they were gone in the apocalypse and on the moon? Ugh, you poor souls. Allison and I have to show you all the important movies.”
“How’s the coffee here?” Five interrupts, blinking in the space between Viktor and Diego, taking Diego’s cup and sipping from it — the second time his drink has been stolen — and making them all jump.
Five swills the coffee around in his mouth, nodding, and pops away to go get his own.
“Get me a replacement drip!” Diego yells after him.
“I’m gonna have a heart attack,” Klaus groans, shoving the empty little cups away from himself. Diego pushes the now melted whipped cream monstrosity back toward him. “Have some sugar.”
Five comes back, sitting next to Viktor.
“How’d you know where we were?” Diego asks, taking his second replacement and keeping a tight grip on the cup.
“I borrowed Allison’s phone to look up something and saw the search history. You three were gone, this shop caters to a specific clientele,” he makes an ‘its obvious’ face, “not hard to put the pieces together.”
“Ohhh,” they chime, each sipping their drinks.
“Luther and Allison are making dinner—well, Luther’s in charge of making enough dinner for himself, and Allison is making dinner for the rest of us, she sent me to come wrangle you back.”
Diego looks down at his watch. “Shit, hadn’t realized how long we’d been here.”
“Good coffee here,” Five comments casually, looking around the place in that ever-searching, never-still way of his.
“We can always come back again?” Diego offers.
“Maybe,” he says, sipping his cup.
“Should we head back?” Viktor offers.
Five doesn’t pop away. Instead, he joins the three of them in taking the long way back, taking up the whole sidewalk as they amble on semi-familiar streets.
Klaus walks circles around Diego to burn off his caffeine-induced energy (Diego, belatedly, realizing maybe getting a stir-crazy Klaus out of the house backfired since he just pumped himself full of caffeine) and borrows Viktor’s phone to show Diego videos of his vine references.
“How have you seen the abomination that is Cats but not seen Rent ?!” Klaus yells, Diego muttering something about buttholes.
“After Dr. Strangelove , we’re watching all the good musicals,” Klaus promises while Diego groans.
Five walks behind them next to Viktor, fondly muttering “Idiots,” when their antics inevitably start to attract attention.
“Let’s go home.”
It’s not the home they grew up in (thank God, however much of a bitch she might be), nor is it this universe’s version of home, or even a home from their own universe that they’ll get to keep. It was transient, temporary, but it was a home for now nevertheless; a home they were making together.