Chapter Text
The day Reginald Hargreeves died, Diego Hargreeves, Number Two, was out on a mission. He was cutting down bank robbers left and right, a scene he'd known well since childhood, if lonely without his siblings at his side. But he'd grown used to it over the years, convinced himself that he worked better on his own. If they couldn't deal with his leadership, then they could stay gone.
He'd just knocked out the last robber when Pogo's voice came through the headset, insisting that he return to the mansion at once.
Midway through the chimp's explanation, Diego's eyes widened. “Dead?”
The day Reginald Hargreeves died, Allison Hargreeves, Number Three, was standing in the wings of the Pheme's Theatre, the Shakespearean tragedy unfolding on stage before her. Her eyes caught on the leading lady, something like envy filling them as she watched Jess deliver her lines effortlessly, bringing the role to life like Allison knew she could if they'd just give her a chance.
Turning away from the stage with a huff- Allison's bit part had already gone on, and she was done until curtain call- she paced away, slipping outside for a quick smoke break. The TV in the window of the shop across the street caught her attention, and the cigarette slipped through her fingers.
Local Billionaire Dead.
The day Reginald Hargreeves died, Klaus Hargreeves, Number Four, was working out his daddy issues by hanging around a crime scene. Namely, he was sitting on the newly-dead woman's lovely balcony and asking her, quite tactfully in his opinion, who had killed her and how he could anonymously tip off the police in such a way as would convince them of said murderer's guilt. Oddly, ‘I asked the victim's ghost’ wasn't considered good enough evidence for a conviction. And Klaus had thought witness testimony was important.
“Say, isn't that a shame,” the woman said, her eyes drawn to her neighbor's TV. Klaus followed her gaze. His jaw might have dropped a little.
“Such a shame,” he muttered absently, holding back a hysterical grin at the news report of his father's death.
The day Reginald Hargreeves died, Ben Hargreeves, Number Six, was just being released from rehab. He'd stayed the whole time, this time, because Klaus had given him puppy eyes when he'd gone in, saying that he loved Ben but he didn't want him following him around at all times, and Ben got it, he really did. He hadn't thought he'd gone that far, and overdosing really hadn't been fun, and he didn't want to do it again. But the pressure in his stomach was getting worse as the creatures it contained got more and more restless, and he'd just have to be more careful this time, is all. He didn't want to worry Klaus, but his brother of all people understood what it was like to struggle with your powers. And Klaus had eventually gotten the ghosts under control, tried to overcome his childhood trauma mostly in order to spite their father, but Ben… well, he'd found alternate methods.
The TV in the corner caught his attention as he walked out, and Ben blinked, trying to believe his eyes.
“...Dad?”
The day Reginald Hargreeves died, Viktor Hargreeves, Number Seven, was enchanting a packed concert hall in Dallas. The solo violin let his eyes close and the music spill from his violin, the orchestra behind him. He didn't look out into the audience. He didn't want to see who wasn't there like they would normally be, there for him and him alone.
After the concert, he packed up quickly, ready to head out, when the conductor stopped him, suggesting he hear the news before he went back out into the world.
He didn't think he'd ever been more conflicted than when he heard the words, “Your father's dead.”
The Hargreeves mansion was still as cold and unwelcoming as ever.
In some ways, after all these years, Allison found it strangely comforting. Nothing had changed, really. The portraits were still in the hallway, slowly getting less and less crowded as they grew older and lost siblings. The tributes, always more warnings for the living siblings than memorials for the lost ones, still glared down at them. Klaus was still crazy and Ben was still an addict and Allison still had no place here.
“You came!”
Allison glanced up to find Viktor giving her a genuine smile, her smaller brother- and hadn't that been a fun thing to find out from the news instead of from the man himself, while the world-famous musician's divorce was already the big story (Allison never had been able to convince herself that the invitation to the wedding had been genuine, giving Viktor the out by telling him she had other commitments, making it easier for both of them)- always looking out for all of them, even Allison. “It's good to see you, sis.”
Allison couldn't quite make herself believe that, either. It was Viktor- he was always the warmest to all of them, but he also hadn't seemed to care about any of them when he'd packed up and moved out thirteen years ago, grief and the desire for more driving him out of the mansion and to traveling with an orchestra before finally settling in Dallas, with a successful career and a new family.
Well, he still had one of those things. Maybe the loss of the other was what made him so happy to see her.
“Allison!” a peppy voice cheered, and Allison had to bite back a groan. “Guess we're all here, just like old times… you know, except the old times were shitty and the old man isn't here anymore, which is really an improvement in my opinion- just don't tell Diego I said that, he'll get pretty touchy, even if he used to agree with us… oh well, anyway…”
“Klaus,” Viktor said, cutting off their brother's rant.
“Right, right, sorry.” Klaus hadn't changed a bit, unless his fashion sense getting even more outrageous somehow counted. What was with that coat?
“Are you actually wearing that to the funeral?” Viktor asked, incredulous.
“Well, considering dear old Pops had us wearing our uniforms to the last one, I really don't think he'd care.” A pause. “No, no, you're right, he would.” None of them had said anything. Allison decided not to ask what ghost was commenting on their family's business. “But he can't complain.”
Allison couldn't help but think he would anyway, but she was not getting into a conversation where she couldn't see or hear one of the participants. It didn't matter anyway- Klaus was already sauntering up the stairs without a care in the world, done with the two of them and moving on to who knew where. Probably to bother Ben or Diego, his favorite siblings. Or, they had been- Allison wasn't sure what the relationship between Diego and Klaus was these days. Sometimes, they seemed just as close as ever, others, the gap between them seemed ever-growing. And after thirteen years, she wasn’t sure which they would lean towards.
Not like anyone in this family had actual relationships with each other anyway.
“Well, looks like Klaus is still Klaus,” Viktor said, watching their brother go.
None of them had changed, Allison wanted to say but didn’t. Nothing here had changed, even if Viktor didn’t want to acknowledge that.
Diego had never been in his father's room before. Reginald Hargreeves had never been the kind of parent to let his children climb into bed with him- that kind of weakness would never have been allowed. He showed his approval in other ways. But now, Diego ghosted through the room, oddly hesitant to touch things but needing answers.
He had to know what happened to Dad.
“As fun as it would be to watch you acting like a ghost in Dad’s room,” Klaus’s voice came from the door, and Diego did not jump, thank you very much, his brother was just very quiet, “I can save you some time. Windows: locked. Signs of struggle: none. Any evidence of foul play: none. Conclusion: there’s nothing here for you to find.”
“What do you want, Klaus?” Diego groaned. His brother had certainly seemed to be avoiding him so far, why confront him now?
“The autopsy report,” Klaus declared holding it out before jerking it back when Diego reached for it. “Say ‘please’!”
Diego did no such thing. “And you have this… why?” He snatched it from Klaus, unfolding it before his brother could attempt to take it back. Klaus just leaned back against the wall and gave him a lazy grin.
“Well, brother dear, I have that because… I broke into the coroner’s office!” Klaus did jazz hands.
Diego rolled his eyes. “No, I mean… you’ve never needed a coroner to tell you anything before.”
Klaus waved him off. “The point is, surprise surprise, Daddy Dearest… died of heart failure, just a case of his old age catching up to him.” He sighed wistfully. “He must be so disappointed.” He didn’t seem to think that was a bad thing.
“Your point?” Diego snapped. It didn’t mean anything. Heart failure could be faked.
“My point is that you are still in here, checking all the windows. Which you could have done days ago, but just managed to work up the nerve to do now, because even now that he’s dead you still care about what Reggie thinks more than anything else.” More than us, a younger, angry Klaus hissed at him.
Diego shoved the thought aside. “Yeah, well, I talked to Pogo,” he said. “He said he couldn’t find Dad’s monocle.”
Klaus groaned. “And let me guess, you’re going to make this into a huge deal.”
“Klaus, Dad was always wearing that monocle. Always. If it’s not here, then someone took it. Someone who might have done something to him.”
“Or maybe he left it down in his office because despite the fact that he acted like more of a robot than Mom ever did, he was still human and needed to sleep sometimes, and you don’t sleep in eyewear, Diego!” Klaus shot back. “There’s nothing here, so why don’t you stop with this little attempt to be team leader one last time because you still can’t get over the fact that you were Dad’s second choice!”
Diego flinched back, and something like regret flashed over Klaus’s face, but he didn’t wait long enough for his brother to speak again, only pausing long enough to make sure his stutter wouldn’t break free before saying, “Get out.”
Klaus did back away, but paused in the doorway. “You know, I liked the brother who cared about us better than the brother who got to play daddy’s favorite.”
And then he was gone.
Allison haunted the main room like one of Klaus’s ghosts, eyes trailing over the old Umbrella Academy figures, the posters, the news articles. If an outsider saw the collection, they'd probably think Dad had been one of their biggest fans, or, alternatively, incredibly proud of his children.
Allison, who had actually known the man, knew that he had been neither of those things.
Her gaze caught on a newspaper left between two books on a bookshelf, instead of framed and displayed like the rest. She tugged it out from its hiding place and turned it over, the headline giving a much different story than the others.
Umbrella Academy Secret Seventh Member Goes Public With Her Story
Allison scoffed. They'd gotten one thing wrong- she'd never been a member of the Umbrella Academy.
She wondered why their father had kept it.
“Welcome home, Miss Allison,” a voice came from behind her, and Allison couldn't help a smile. There was one person in this house she had wanted to see.
“Hello, Pogo,” she replied, turning around.
The old chimp walked forward, and Allison bent down to wrap her arms around him, Pogo doing the same. She'd missed him, if nothing else from this place.
“It’s good to see you,” Pogo said, pulling back, before he noticed the newspaper still clutched in her hand. “Ah, yes, your… interview.” His tone didn’t give away his opinion on what was doubtlessly going to be a touchy subject with her siblings. She knew very well what they thought of her decision to go public, as well as what, exactly, she’d told the interviewer.
She’d only said the truth.
“Did Dad ever see it?” she asked, curious despite herself. He’d clearly seen the newspaper with its front page article on it, maybe even read the thing, but the actual interview?
“Not that I’m aware of,” Pogo admitted, almost apologetically. Not that she’d expected him to actually pay attention to her, even if she was spilling his dirty secrets to the whole world. She didn’t know why she felt so damn disappointed. Her eyes looked away, desperate to focus on anything else…
Her gaze landed on Luther’s portrait, staring down at them from the mantle.
“How long has it been since Luther disappeared?” she asked, if only to change the subject. She knew exactly how many years it had been.
“Sixteen years, four months, and fourteen days,” Pogo recited, a sad smile crossing his face as Allison’s eyebrows shot up at the number. “Your father insisted I keep track.” Of course. Because while the rest of them leaving was nothing more than an inconvenience for their father, the loss of his Number One… well, he’d come closer to caring about Luther than any of the rest of them, even if Allison would be shocked if Reginald Hargreeves had the capacity to truly care about anyone but himself.
“I really thought he’d come back,” Allison admitted. “I mean, it was Luther. Out of all of us…” She didn’t need to finish that. Luther had always been the most loyal to Dad, and even Diego after his promotion to team leader hadn’t reached the levels of Number One. She couldn’t imagine Luther actually leaving the academy. “I kept buying him those models that he liked, the rockets and planes and things, so that when he’d come back I could surprise him with them.” She was sure that three of them would still be up in her room, waiting for a brother that wasn’t coming home.
The fourth was hanging in her apartment.
“Your father always believed that Master Luther would come back here some day,” Pogo told her. “He never lost hope. You shouldn’t either.”
Allison gave Pogo a sad smile and didn’t say anything. Too late for that, she thought to herself bitterly.
Viktor sighed as he entered his father’s office, not quite sure what he was doing there. Old memories played through his mind- standing in the doorway to this room with all his siblings, hoping that maybe tonight, their father would even glance up at them, acknowledge them, if not say goodnight to them.
He never did.
A scuffling noise coming from behind the desk, and Viktor frowned, moving deeper into the room. What…
“Ben?” he asked in surprise- though maybe he shouldn’t be- peering around the desk.
“Viktor!” Ben looked up at him awkwardly from where he was sprawled out on the floor, a somewhat sheepish look crossing his face. “I was just… uh… how are you?”
Viktor pretended like he didn’t know exactly what Ben was doing rummaging around behind their father’s desk. It’s not like he particularly cared, anyway. Ben could steal every artifact in the house for all he cared. “It’s good to see you, Ben.” And it was, if he could ignore the redness of his brother’s eyes, the theft that he never would have attributed to a younger Ben, before… before.
Once, he would have been surprised.
“You too,” Ben said, pulling himself up to his feet. Viktor pulled his brother into a hug, before pulling back to examine the bracelet on his arm.
“Just out of rehab?”
Ben’s eyes widened, and he quickly tucked the bracelet into the sleeve of his hoodie. “No, no, I’m… I’m done with that. Really.” He clearly was not, but Viktor again elected not to say anything. Quickly changing the subject, Ben continued, “It’s weird being in here, you know? Since Dad would never let us in here if he were alive.”
Viktor shook his head in agreement.
“So, uh, are Sissy and Harlan here?”
Viktor froze.
Ben frowned. “I’m going to take that as a no.”
“You haven’t heard the news?” Viktor asked tiredly. It seemed that everyone had.
“Oh, I, uh, haven’t really had access to that recently…” Ben trailed off awkwardly. “Klaus filled me in on the new name and pronouns earlier, but I’m not caught up on anything else…”
“Sissy filed for divorce eight months ago,” Viktor sighed. Saying it out loud was always draining. Fuck, he missed them so much. “She has full custody of Harlan.” He hoped Ben would leave it there. After all, the stepparent not getting custody wasn’t unusual, or a reason for people to ask questions. And Viktor hadn’t talked to his family in years- there was no reason for them to know that he’d signed adoption papers for Harlan right after marrying Sissy, that he loved her son as much as he loved her. They were both his family.
Or they had been.
He understood it, he really did. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
“Oh.” Ben’s face fell. “Viktor, I’m so sorry.”
Her brother had always cared so much. Maybe that was why he and Klaus were so close, despite appearing an odd pairing. “Thanks, Ben.”
He wished the silence that followed wasn’t so awkward.
Diego watched as his siblings filed into the main room- Klaus, sprawling out across a couch as Ben sat next to him, cradling a bottle he’d snagged from the bar; Viktor, sitting in an armchair and looking on expectantly; and… Allison. A flash of rage shot through him, and he forced it down. He had to address this very carefully, and being pissed at Allison for what she did wasn’t going to start the conversation very calmly.
“Let’s get started, then,” he said, wanting to get this over with as much as the others seemed to. “I was thinking we could have the funeral in the courtyard. Say a few words, whatever you do at funerals.” He tried not to think of what had happened at the last funeral. Of how he’d failed.
Of the voice of self-doubt that had whispered maybe Luther wouldn’t have let Five die.
“Like what?” Klaus asked. “Refreshments?”
“I could get behind that,” Ben spoke up, and Diego glared. Of course those two would agree with each other.
“Is that my skirt?” Allison asked, and okay, this meeting was officially derailed.
“Oh, this?” Klaus glanced down at himself. “Yeah, I found it in your room-” Diego decided not to question the fact that Klaus had just been going through Allison’s room. “I didn’t think it was really your style, anymore, but if you want it back I could borrow from Viktor, I don’t think he’s using his anymore…”
“Klaus!” Diego snapped. “We have important things to discuss.”
“Like what?” Klaus asked challengingly.
“Like the way he died.”
“Yep.” Klaus popped the ‘p’, glancing to something- some one - only he could see. “Guess we should have seen that one coming.”
“I don’t understand,” Viktor said, frowning. “I thought they said it was a heart attack.”
“They did.” Diego frowned.
“Our brother,” Klaus explained with an eye roll. “Isn’t convinced. I handed him the coroner report and everything.”
“Wouldn’t they know?” Allison frowned.
Diego tried to suppress a groan. Of course Klaus had to make this difficult, and drag the others along with him. “Theoretically.”
“Theoretically my ass,” Klaus grumbled. Diego ignored him.
“Look, at the end, Dad was starting to sound strange.”
“When wasn’t he?” Ben giggled.
Diego bit back a snarl. Why wouldn’t they just listen? “This was different. He seemed on edge, saying we had to be careful, that I needed to watch who I trusted.”
“You trust people?” Klaus asked with a raised eyebrow.
Ignoring his siblings’ jabs was getting harder and harder. “And then he just dies? Something’s going on here, and we need to figure it out.” This was going to be the real hard part. He turned to Klaus. “Look, I need you to summon Dad.”
Klaus’s face went blank, and he didn’t hesitate. “No.”
Diego blinked. “ No? What do you mean, no?”
“I don’t want to,” Klaus said, voice flat, yet somehow holding a challenge.
Damn it, Klaus. Stop making this harder. Diego didn’t like the thoughts that were forming, but Klaus wasn’t doing anything to disprove them. Klaus, tell me you didn’t…
“And that’s it? This is important!” This wasn’t going anywhere. “And then there’s the missing monocle.”
Klaus groaned. “Oh, come on, nobody cares about the stupid monocle…”
“Exactly! So why take it?”
“Dude, I swear you just didn’t search the house hard enough…”
“Look, it had to be personal, right?”
“Personal?” Viktor’s voice cut through the argument, and Klaus and Diego went silent. “You don’t mean…”
Klaus’s eyes widened, and his voice went hard. “You think one of us killed Dad.”
It sounded a lot worse when his brother said it out loud.
“You’re kidding.” Allison was staring at him, wide eyed. Honestly, he hadn’t knocked her off the list of potential suspects either. She’d made no secret of the fact that she hated them all.
“Seriously, man?” Ben stumbled to his feet, swaying, shock coloring his voice.
“I can’t believe this.” Klaus stalked from the room.
“Hey!” Diego snapped. “We’re not done here.”
“Oh, sorry, I'm just gonna go murder Mom, be right back.”
Diego flinched.
Ben followed after Klaus. “You’re crazy.”
Viktor and Allison followed without a word.
Diego sighed. That went well.
17 years ago
This is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for Channel 2 News outside of the Capital West bank at Main and Sixth. A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago and took an unknown number of hostages.
The day the Umbrella Academy debuted, the bank robbers didn’t know what hit them.
A young kid had walked up to the lead robber, smiling innocently, even as he waved his gun around threateningly and ordered her to get back behind the counter with the other hostages.
Number Seven hadn’t come from the hostages. And the man was about to find that out in the worst way possible.
Giving up at getting the child still smiling up at him to cooperate, the man decided to make an example of Vanya instead, firing his gun.
That was another mistake.
As the shot went off, a white light began to emanate from the girl, before bursting out of her, knocking the bullet away and into the knee of another robber, as well as knocking the man in front of her on his ass.
We just heard shots from inside the bank. It's uncertain if any hostages have been harmed in that.
Up there!
There's some movement on the roof. Possibly law enforcement.
Luther came flying through the ceiling, landing on the ground and punching a robber a few times before literally throwing him from the bank, every inch the child superhero his father wanted.
Next came Diego, knives flying, taking down another robber as they curved in midair.
I've been in many hostage situations like this, and it can escalate very quickly.
The head robber scrambled up onto the front desk, gun pointed at the children, panickedly warning them to get back as they mocked him.
And then Five was behind him, smirking, before disappearing as shots went off, before popping back up behind the robber, smirk still firmly in place, entirely unconcerned.
“Ooh! That’s one badass stapler!”
And then the man was down.
Although there's been no activity for a few minutes, we're gonna stay live on location to make sure we don't miss anything in this hostage situation at the Capital West bank.
“Do we really have to do this?”
A sigh from Luther. “Come on, Ben, there’s more guys in the vault.”
Ben groaned. “I didn’t sign up for this.”
A beat, where Vanya looked like she was going to step forward, before Ben disappeared into the vault.
Now we see the hostages. They... They're free. They're scared, clearly, but they do seem to be unharmed.
Screams from inside the vault, the shadow of huge tentacles, blood smearing on the windows, and then…
“Can we go home now?”
People are coming out now. It's not the armed robbers. These are young schoolchildren in uniforms with masks on.
The moment they stepped out of the bank- masked, in uniform, perfectly calm or excited if anything, one of them drenched with blood- the reporters went wild, questions firing over the demands from the police to drop any weapons.
As if the real weapons weren’t the children themselves.
And on a rooftop across the street, a young girl asked her father, “Why can’t I go play with the others?”
The man didn’t look up from his binoculars, his entire focus on the children across the street. “We’ve been through this before, Number Three. I’m afraid there’s just nothing special about you.”
The girl clenched her jaw, clearly upset.
Later, their father would join them in front of the crowds of reporters, using pretty words in an attempt to justify his use of child soldiers. And he would warn that in their hands was, in his words, the fate of the world.
“So when are you going to tell them?”
“Fiveyyyy,” Klaus whined. “I’m trying to complain to you about the nerve of our brother and this is all you’re worried about?”
Five huffed, entirely unfairly in Klaus’s opinion. He refrained from informing his little brother that the face he was making made him look like a pouting child. There were times to tease Five about the fact that his face was eternally seventeen, and this one might get his face clawed off. “I wouldn’t have to be if you would just tell them. I mean, come on, you’ve already let the family meeting come and go. You’d think you weren’t even planning on…” he trailed off, reading the expression on Klaus’s face. “You’re not going to tell them.”
Klaus let his silence speak for itself.
“You’re serious,” Five said incredulously. “You cannot possibly be petty enough to let a grudge from thirteen years ago keep you from telling them about me.”
“Five, my darling, favorite brother,” Klaus said with false sweetness. “You of all people should know that I am exactly that petty.”
“You’re not actually going to keep this from them.”
Klaus glared right back. “Watch me.”
The look of betrayal on Five’s face was almost enough to change Klaus’s mind. Almost. “I can’t believe you.”
And Klaus hated hurting his brother like this, he really did. But his ‘thirteen year old grudge’ was still a painful reminder in the back of his mind, and he knew that behind Five’s prickly exterior, he knew exactly how much the encounter had hurt Klaus.
They had been the last words Klaus had spoken to any of his siblings, save Ben and Five, for thirteen years.
Diego didn’t know exactly how he ended up in Luther’s room.
It wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence. Every once in a while, Diego would wander into his lost brother's room, as if it could provide him answers to the questions that always haunted him. What was so great about Number One? Why was Dad so convinced that you were a better leader than me?
Was he right?
Diego flopped down on his brother's bed, sighing. It didn't really matter. Luther was gone, and Five was dead, and all the others had left, and Diego was the Umbrella Academy now. There was no one left to lead.
He didn't know why he walked over to his brother's old record player, either. The thing hadn't been touched in years- ever since Luther left- but something had him brushing the dust off an old record he barely glanced at the name of before putting it on, turning up the volume as high as it would go.
Viktor walked around his old childhood room, a wave of nostalgia crashing over him. He didn't miss the Academy- it would be hard to, considering the man who presided over it and the childhood that had been stolen from him, all the things that Sissy had helped show him were wrong and that he never would do to Harlan ( except he had hurt Harlan after all )- but the child he had once been was still alive in this room, in some way, untouched since Viktor had left the house mere days after Five's funeral, barely long enough for their father to get a new family portrait. And maybe that child had been a fucked-up, traumatized underage superhero, but he didn't think he'd felt nearly as lost then as he did now. Even Five's death had left him with only grief and a newfound sense of determination, a need to get out and live the life his brother would never have. With Sissy, with Harlan, it was… different.
He startled a bit as a beat began pumping through the house.
Viktor's hearing had always been great, but it took him a moment to realize exactly what was playing. When he did, though, he almost wanted to laugh. He didn't know who had put on the song- one of Luther's favorites- but the unexpectedness of it, the blast from the past…
Viktor hadn't danced in months, and the last time had been him twirling Sissy around, bending down to Harlan's level and coaxing some dance moves out of the boy, but… music, any music, was home to Viktor. He'd made a career out of it, he'd spent years attuning his powers to it… when music came on Viktor couldn't help but start dancing along.
It felt weird, dancing alone. But it also felt like coming home.
Ben didn't quite remember getting to the kitchen, but it seemed as good a place as any- and more importantly, it was empty. He didn't need his siblings’ judging eyes on him as he knocked back three pills, willing the rumbling in his stomach to cease. The creatures seemed to hate being back here as much as he did; maybe more considering they got nothing out of it, while Ben at least had a way to make some quick cash. He got the feeling they'd never liked the drugs, unlike him.
Maybe he should lie down for a minute. Yeah, that sounded good, nappy time for both him and the tentacle monsters in his stomach. And, hey, the table was as good a place as any, right?
Was that… music?
For a moment, Ben thought the drugs might have already kicked in, but it sounded too distant for that. Like… like someone upstairs was blasting music really, really loud, and Ben was hearing it all the way in the kitchen in the basement.
His money was on Klaus, maybe, although this wasn't exactly Klaus's type of music. Still the options in the mansion had to be limited, so… yep. Definitely Klaus.
Ben gave an experimental twirl and tripped over a chair, almost sending him toppling. Something about that seemed insanely funny, so Ben let out a giggle and tried spinning again. That made him dizzy, but didn't stop him from continuing to twirl around the room, lost in his own little world, for once almost happy, really happy.
Allison sat on the stairs, alone in a big empty house filled with her entire living family. Nothing had changed. Her siblings were just as they always were, and she still wasn't welcome here. She should just go. It wasn't like her siblings would even notice. The door was right there. There would be no need to say goodbye, not that anyone but Pogo cared. And even if Dad would have wanted her at his funeral, who cared what he thought?
She was getting ready to stand when the music started filtering down the stairs. She stared up them, incredulously, but the source made no move to appear. Not that she cared. Really. This was all stupid.
But… maybe she could stay a little longer. Just because this was good music, and she had to practice the dance for an audition in a few weeks, once her current show was done.
It wasn't like it was hurting anything, anyway. There was still no sign of any of her siblings. Just Allison and the music.
Klaus wasn't moping, no matter what Five said.
It was just… he'd hoped, after all these years, that maybe the Diego he'd come back to would be a bit more of the Diego he'd known when they were kids, before Luther disappeared. Not this Diego, the one that was obsessed with Dad's nonexistent murder, the one that accused him (and yes, Klaus knew that Diego had meant him, his brother wasn't nearly as slick as he thought he was) of murdering their father, the one that hadn't seemed to have missed him at all.
(The one who had said the words that still haunted Klaus all these years later.)
But that was beside the point. Just because he was lying on his back on the couch and staring up at the ceiling while reminiscing on how his brother was still an asshole did not mean he was moping. Klaus didn't mope.
And where was that music coming from?
Klaus didn't particularly care, actually. He sprang to his feet, bad mood forgotten, and a grin spread across his face.
Five's eyes widened. “Absolutely not-”
Klaus ignored his brother's protests and picked him up before he could move away, twirling him through the air before setting him down, dragging him into a dance. Despite Five's groans, he didn't make any further attempts to escape, letting Klaus send them around the room, Klaus's laughter echoing off the walls.
This was more like it.
Diego hadn't ever been much of a dancer when anyone was looking, but here, locked in his brother's old room with nothing but the way-too-loud music and the stupid model planes, there was nothing to stop him from swaying to the music a bit.
Okay. He was dancing. He was full-on dancing. No one would ever have to know.
Besides, it was admittedly kind of fun. Maybe he could do this more often, after…
After his siblings all left again.
That line of thought- and the music- was cut off by a shriek echoing through the house.
Diego didn't think before he grabbed a knife and bolted out of the room.
Okay, so Klaus might have shrieked a bit. Personally, he thought that was a perfectly reasonable reaction to a man appearing in a flash of blue light right in front of you in the middle of your childhood home.
Five was rolling his eyes at him. Five was an asshole.
The dude was huge. Towering over Klaus, and Klaus wasn't short. Broad shoulders covered in an overcoat, and for some reason a briefcase in one hand. Klaus had the half-hysterical thought that maybe this was one of Dad's business partners who hadn't heard the news, and he was an alien or something.
He was also-
“Luther?” Allison asked in shock, standing in the doorway.
-oddly familiar.
Allison was staring at their brother- and now Klaus could see it, that was definitely Luther, if seventeen years older than they'd last seen him, which Klaus supposed was to be expected, and Allison could see him which meant he wasn't dead, which was good- and frozen in the doorway. She must have been nearby and heard him scream. Oh. Hopefully the others hadn't-
Diego and Viktor burst through the doorway, crushing that hope. Viktor shoved Allison behind him- which was kind of funny, considering that no matter how dangerous little Number Seven was, he was like half Allison's height and not much of a shield. Diego didn't stop moving, already launching a knife across the room.
Luther dodged, with impressive speed for such a huge man, and came back up as the knife buried itself in the wall. “Hey!” He sounded so incredibly offended that Klaus almost laughed- that was Luther alright, and he really should be used to it by now.
…Or maybe not, considering he'd been gone for seventeen years.
“Whoa,” Ben's voice came from the doorway, behind Viktor and Allison. “Luther?” He blinked. “What did I take? ”
“No,” Allison told him. “It's not you.”
“Holy shit,” Diego said, staring at their long-lost brother. “I- uh- hey, man.”
“Hi, Luther,” Viktor said, the white light that had started building from his chest dispersing, his stance in front of Allison and Ben less protective and more like that's just where he'd ended up, neither of them moving any further into the room.
“Yeah, hey,” Klaus said, before deciding to just jump on the elephant in the room, always his preferred method of addressing things. “Where have you been ?”
“The future,” Luther responded, like that made any sense. “It's… really awful, actually.”
“Surprise, surprise,” Klaus muttered, but was distracted by Five leaning forward, eyes practically gleaming.
“Time travel,” Klaus's ghost brother breathed- whispered, sorry Five. Klaus blinked, remembering Five's childhood dream, one he'd never quite found the right equations for. He thought of notebooks upon notebooks filled up back at their place and wondered if Five had ever truly stopped trying.
And Luther had figured it out first. Huh. Klaus was going to tease Five so much about that later.
“Wha- you time traveled?” Diego sputtered. “ How? ”
“Unintentionally,” Luther grumbled.
The quite frankly offended look on Five's face was absolutely hilarious. Klaus barely restrained himself from laughing, because he tried to avoid randomly laughing at stuff everyone else couldn't see. It always got him weird looks, even from people who should know by now that it meant there was a ghost they couldn't see.
Luther looked like he might explain more, but got distracted as he glanced down at his briefcase instead. “Oh. Right. One moment,” he said, before holding it up and punching a hole through the center of the briefcase, making them all jump. Klaus frowned closer at the thing, because it looked like…
“Um, your briefcase is full of wires,” Ben commented, and yep, Klaus wasn’t hallucinating.
Luther ignored the comment and stomped on the remains of the briefcase a few times, which with his strength absolutely flattened the thing, which was impressive considering it was bulky and apparently a machine of some sort, unless Luther had just been looking for a classy alternative to a toolbox. He considered the remains for a moment before nodding to himself. “Yeah, shouldn’t be able to track that now.”
Track it? Klaus thought but didn’t ask. Considering how Luther had handled commentary so far, it wouldn’t get him any answers. But seriously, who the hell was tracking his brother and did he need help killing them?
Actually, it was Luther. He probably wouldn’t accept help if it was offered to him. Luther, Five, and Diego had never been good at that.
Shockingly, Diego didn’t press the question of who was after Luther either. Instead, he asked, “So you time traveled to the future, stayed there for seventeen years, and then just decided to come back now?”
Luther’s gaze hardened, glaring at Diego. Oh, here they went again. That didn’t take long. Really, you’d think after seventeen years the first thing they did wouldn’t be to fight, but then, that was Luther and Diego for you. “Yeah well getting back intentionally wasn’t as easy as getting there unintentionally.” He seemed to brush that aside. “So did I miss the funeral?”
“How'd you know about that?” Diego snapped. Really, at this point Klaus thought that Diego was just picking every fight no matter how dumb.
“What part of the future do you not understand?” Five sneered.
“The future,” Luther echoed flatly. Really, even Klaus had caught on to that one.
“Is that it, then?” Diego asked, unwilling to let this go, apparently. “Figured you'd be more broken up, Number One.”
Luther's expression stayed flat. “I've had years to get over it.” Klaus wondered if ‘it’ was referring to Dad's death… or maybe even Dad himself.
An awkward silence settled over the siblings. Even Diego had nothing to say to that.
Finally, Luther broke it. “Hey, do you guys have any coffee?”
They did not, in fact, have coffee.
Luther had expected as much. It might have been seventeen years, but he still remembered that much. He’d informed his siblings that he’d have to go out for it, which was the point. He needed a subtle reason to get out of the house, because he wasn’t naive enough to think that destroying the briefcase would do any more than delay them from finding him, and besides, he had eight days, and he had to get started. Choosing the day of the funeral had been a calculated decision- his siblings would be here, if he needed them (as much as he hoped not to involve them) and old enough to understand the stakes of what was happening, not to mention he was around the same age as them at this point in time- but it meant he was cutting it close.
Plus, coffee did sound good right now.
Still, he’d agreed to stay for the funeral that he apparently hadn’t missed yet- which he would have anyway, he might have long accepted the fact that his father wasn’t perfect and that he couldn’t rely on him for everything, especially considering he was dead, but he still respected the man, and he wouldn’t miss his funeral.
Although he got the feeling some of his siblings would rather be anywhere else right now. They’d still stayed, though, so that had to count for something.
He’d missed them so much.
For now, he found himself alone with Allison in the main room, staring up at his younger face where it hung on the wall.
“Nice to know Dad missed me,” he said, mostly to start the conversation. He doesn’t really know what else to say. He and Allison were close, before, despite the distance that came with her being ordinary, but it had been seventeen years, and he hadn’t had a real conversation with anyone he actually liked in… pretty much that long, actually. He was out of practice.
“We all did,” she told him, and it made something in him soften. He’d hoped, but…
Well. Diego hadn’t exactly given him the warmest welcome back, and the others had all wandered off after the excitement had worn off.
“I read about your interview,” he said, and she tensed. “I’m glad you finally got to be on TV, like you always wanted.”
He truly meant the words, but Allison flinched. He wondered if he’d worded it wrong- if one of their siblings had said something similar, but with a lot less sincerity. He knew that apparently, she’d gotten pretty personal, but…
Well, it was all the catching up with his siblings he’d gotten to do. The reason he knew that most of them had left the academy, that Diego had taken his place as team leader, that…
Well.
“They hate me,” Allison said, a bitter smile on her face. He didn’t have to ask who she was talking about.
“There are worse things that can happen.” Like losing them forever. Except not forever, because after all these years, he finally had them back.
He was going to save them.
“Like what happened to Five?”
Luther winced. He’d wanted to save his brother, go back far enough, but… he didn’t know how it happened. He didn’t know when, or where, or how he could stop it. He had to focus on the rest of his siblings for now, and maybe… maybe if he did that, then he could go back and save Five after. “Was it bad?” he asked, because he couldn’t think about that yet, or about the fact that his only method of time travel was lying in pieces in the corner.
Allison grimaced. It was answer enough.
Klaus hoped that, whatever Dad’s spirit was doing in the afterlife, he absolutely despised the umbrella that Klaus had decided to bring to his funeral. Actually, he hoped Dad was just miserable in general. Klaus didn’t really believe in Hell, but he hoped Dad was there anyway.
The rest of his family stood there with him, facing Diego, who held Dad’s urn. “Did something happen?” Mom asked, her smile perfect and absolutely clashing with the somber occasion, even if Klaus would prefer to be maniacally grinning himself. Let’s be honest, this was a good thing, and the whole world was better off without Dad.
“Dad died,” Viktor said. “Remember?”
“Oh. Yes, of course.”
“Is she okay?” Allison asked, eyeing their mother in concern.
“Yeah, she’s fine,” Diego said. “Just needs to rest.” Klaus raised an eyebrow. “Recharge,” Diego said pointedly. Why he seemed so pissed at the reminder that their mom was a robot, Klaus didn’t know. They all loved her just the same. But they didn’t have to pretend she was human to do it. Maybe Diego was just always pissed in general. That sounded right.
“Alright, then,” Diego said, looking down at the urn in his hands and appearing entirely out of his depth as he opened the urn and… dumped it.
Klaus was pretty sure that that was how it was supposed to happen, but it was also the most awkward thing he’d ever seen, and the least graceful thing Reginald Hargreeves had ever done. Beside him, Ben let out a little giggle. Which, him too, Benerino, but this was probably not the time.
“Probably could have done something with that,” Diego muttered to himself, and Klaus decided that actually, this was better than watching Number Two try and make the ashes float around. Diego’s grip on new things was shaky sometimes, and Klaus didn’t want to end up with a face full of Dad.
“Does anyone wish to speak?” None of them spoke up. One to Seven were silent, despite their varying places on the scale of ‘I’m desperate for his love’ to ‘I hate that asshole’. Pogo sighed. “Very well. In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master... and my friend, and I shall miss him very much. He leaves behind a complicated legacy…”
Klaus scoffed. He hadn’t planned on making a scene at the funeral, but, well, Klaus never stuck to the plan anyway. And he did love to make a scene. “That’s one word for it. I would have gone with ‘awful’, personally-”
“Shut up, Klaus,” Diego snapped, as Ben let out another giggle. Viktor just sighed. Luther, shockingly, said nothing. Maybe seventeen years had been enough for him to pull his head out of Dad’s ass.
“It’s Number Four, remember?” Klaus sneered. “Because why would Dad bother to name his children, when all they ever really were to him were weapons? There’s nothing complicated there. You can pay your respects, but I don’t have any left for him, not after what he did.” Not after hours and hours of fear and screaming and Dad, let me out, please!
“Shut it, Klaus!” Diego snapped, stalking forward.
Klaus moved to meet him. “You used to be the one saying these things, Number Two. Until Luther disappeared and you got everything you ever wanted, but guess what? Not all of us got that lucky. Dad never gave the rest of us shit, and the only reason you were any different is because he had to settle for second-best-”
Diego let out a roar and lunged at him, and Klaus barely had the time to dodge before the punch landed. He whipped around, connecting his elbow with Diego’s face, and then the fight was on.
“Oh for the love of-” he heard Allison mutter, along with Viktor’s shout of “Stop it!” Five muttered something that sounded like idiots, Ben was still giggling, Mom was just standing there with a smile on her face, and Luther and Pogo had both left at some point. Klaus leaped on Diego’s back before being thrown off- maybe picking a fight with his brother who was much better at hand-to-hand than him hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had… shit, knife .
Klaus ducked- was that aiming for his face? - and the knife flew past him, straight into the face of the statue behind him.
He vaguely heard Viktor’s “Seriously?” and Allison’s “Well, there goes Five’s statue,” but his attention was more on how close Diego had been to hitting him with that knife, of the roaring in his ears, of how he hadn’t been able to think straight since they’d stepped foot in this damn courtyard, too stuck in another time, another funeral, the sharp words exchanged in the days after…
Well, if they were playing with powers now, he could work with that.
Klaus closed his eyes and his hands began to glow. He reached for the dead, their hissing appearing on the wind first, then their glowing blue, indistinct forms taking shape around him, all facing Diego. He opened his eyes, knowing they were blue, too, and waited.
The hint of fear in Diego’s eyes wasn’t as satisfying as he thought it would be. He rarely used the full extent of his powers on his siblings, or even around them- Klaus’s world of gruesome corpses walking around like normal people wasn’t theirs, and he knew it always freaked them out when they caught a glimpse. But right now he didn’t care, because he wasn’t twenty-nine but seventeen, and they weren’t in the courtyard but the doorway to Diego’s room, and the hurt was still as fresh as it had been thirteen years ago, and he’d just discovered just how cruel his brother’s words could be.
“Whatever,” Diego muttered finally, stalking over to Mom and ushering her inside. Klaus let the ghosts fade from visibility, to the visible relief of his remaining siblings, minus Five, who was used to it by now, and could still see them anyway.
“Was that really necessary?” Viktor asked with a raised eyebrow as Ben and Allison turned and left as well.
Klaus could only give him a shrug, head still too fuzzy with old memories to say anything. Viktor sighed and left him alone with his dead brother.
Five was standing under his own statue, knife still gruesomely sticking out of it. “Well,” he said, almost amused if you knew what to listen for, “It’s not like it could get any uglier, anyway.”
With the confirmation that Five wasn’t upset about the collateral damage from the fight- he had always hated that statue, claiming it looked nothing like him, not that he was wrong about that- Klaus crouched down and picked up the cigarette he’d dropped during the fight. Fire hazard taken care of, he squatted down by Dad’s ashes, smirking down at them. “Well, that was fun. Go team, right?” Deciding that he couldn’t possibly make himself pettier than he already was, he stubbed the cigarette out in the ashes before he walked away.
“Best funeral ever!”
Nietzsche once said, "Man is as a rope stretched between the animal and the superhuman. A rope over an abyss. It is a dangerous crossing, a dangerous looking-back, a dangerous trembling and halting.
As children, the Umbrella Academy had trained almost every day, as a group, individually, until everything was a competition, even something as simple as running up the stairs.
Allison would blow a whistle, and they would take off, Five taking the lead with his powers while the rest of them pushed and shoved behind him.
As much as you must strive for individual greatness, and strive you must, for it won't come to you of its own accord... you must also remember that there is no individual stronger than the collective.
This was, coincidentally, how they learned that Seven could fly.
The ties that bind you together make you stronger than you are alone.
They’d gotten the tattoos only a month before their first mission. Six symbols declaring that they belonged to their father and always would. A memory filled with pain and tears.
They will make you impervious to the pain and hardship the world will thrust upon you. And believe me when I tell you, life will be hard. It will be painful. We can accomplish anything when we accept responsibility together. This is what creates trust.
Six, because Number Three had no need for a tattoo, as she was not a member of the Umbrella Academy.
Together, you will stand against the reign of evil.
Still, as she stood at the top of the stairs and watched, she couldn’t help the replica that she drew on her own arm in marker, almost a promise, that one day she would join them.
Allison sighed, heading for the door. With the funeral done, her time here was over. She’d thought she might say goodbye to Luther, but he’d disappeared while their brothers were fighting. Probably already gone, he had said something about getting coffee. Not that he’d bothered to say goodbye.
Again.
Pogo was waiting by the door. “I thought I might find you here.”
Allison sighed. “It’s been nice to see you Pogo, really. But they don’t want to see me, I don’t want to see them, and it’s better for everyone if I just go.”
Pogo sighed. “I see I won’t change your mind. Just know that you always have a home here, should you wish it.”
“Thanks, Pogo,” Allison said, hugging the chimp one last time before straightening up as a horn blared from outside. “That’s me.”
“I hope you know, your father loved you very much,” Pogo told her. “In his own way.”
Allison sighed. “Yeah, well, that was the problem, wasn’t it?” His own way hadn’t been very much like love at all. “Take care of yourself.”
“You as well, Miss Allison,” Pogo said, sadly watching her go.
She didn’t look back.
“Where is everyone?” Viktor asked, walking into the kitchen to find Ben curled up in a chair.
Ben shrugged. “Allison left, I think Luther left too. I haven’t seen Diego since the fight, he’s probably with Mom.”
“And I’m out,” Klaus said, walking up behind him. “Nice seeing… everyone in this room, at least, but I have work tonight, so we’ll have to catch up another time.”
Viktor raised an eyebrow. “Work?”
“Hey, don’t knock self-employment, Vik! It’s very freeing.”
“I’m pretty sure what you do is very illegal,” he pointed out, but there was no getting through to Klaus.
“So is buying children and turning them into superheroes,” Klaus pointed out, and, well, he wasn’t wrong.
“Klaus!” Ben stumbled to his feet. “Uh, can I-”
“Hop aboard, Benerino!” Klaus said, a fond smile crossing his face. “See you, Vik!”
“Bye, Klaus.” Viktor said, before shooting Ben a smile and a wave. He waved back, and then the two were gone.
Viktor sighed. Well, he was officially alone in the house except for Diego, Pogo, and Mom, and unlike the others, he couldn’t just drive back to Dallas whenever he felt like it, so for now he was stuck that way.
Lovely family reunion.
Diego walked behind Mom as she moved through the halls, dusting the already impeccable surfaces while humming a cheerful tune. It seemed so out-of-place with the rest of the house, especially considering what they'd just done.
She didn't even remember that Dad was dead, he thought, concern filling him. Despite what he'd told his siblings, something was clearly wrong, and he had to figure out how to help her. “Mom?”
“Yes, Diego dear?” she said, not pausing her cleaning.
“Is everything alright?” he asked, not sure how to approach this. He was good at fighting criminals and problems that could be solved with knives, not… whatever was going on with Mom.
“Of course!” she said, continuing to hum.
“Mom…” he said, grabbing her arms, before frowning as he saw…
“Mom?” he said, pulling away with Dad's monocle in his hands. “Why do you have this?”
“Have what, silly?” she asked. It was so Mom that Diego's heart ached, because this was his mom and she had the missing piece of evidence in Dad's death and it couldn't mean what he thought it did, because this was Mom and she couldn't hurt anyone, literally couldn't, because Dad had programmed her to be a caretaker so she couldn't have, right?
“The monocle, Mom,” he said, almost desperately. “Dad's m-monocle.”
“Well where did you find that?” she said as he held up the monocle. “We'd better get that back to your father, he doesn't like to go without it.”
Dad's dead, Mom, Diego thought, but the words wouldn't form. His fist closed on the monocle as Mom walked away, still humming a cheerful tune.
Griddy’s was a bit more run down than Luther remembered, but it was still the place they went to as kids, and Luther couldn't help but think of the fond memories they’d made there. Sneaking out at night- he'd protested at the time, but now he was glad that Allison had always managed to convince him, giving him some of the memories he'd treasured most in the apocalypse- and stuffing themselves with donuts, trying to see who could eat the most.
Maybe that was why he'd found his way back here, in his search for coffee before heading off for somewhere more remote, to wait for them to catch up to him and take care of it. He couldn't be around his siblings until he'd taken care of whoever they sent to kill him- he refused to put them at risk like that, especially when they didn't know what was coming.
He couldn't tell them. They couldn't do anything to stop it, and even if they could, they wouldn't understand the things he'd done, the things he'd become to survive and get back to them. Maybe it made him a coward, but he couldn't tell them and see them look at him like a monster.
Except maybe… maybe. Maybe there was one sibling who would understand.
He pushed that thought aside as the waitress came to take his order, and the order of the man next to him. He ordered coffee and, after a moment, a donut as well. It couldn't hurt, and it had been too long since he'd had one. A few minutes later, the man was gone, and Luther was alone in the shop.
And then the men with guns came in, the bell on top of the door ringing as the only sign that they were there- that, and the reflection in the bell next to Luther.
“That was fast,” he commented conversationally. “I thought I’d have more time before they found me.” Clearly, he’d missed something. Not the briefcase, so…
Ah. He’d have to take care of that later.
“Okay. So let's all be professional about this, yeah? On your feet and come with us. They want to talk.”
Luther didn’t look back at the man, but he dropped the semi-pleasant tone for a darker one. “I’ve got nothing to say.”
“This doesn’t need to get ugly,” the leader said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Luther said, and then all hell broke loose.
He turned around, punching the leader hard enough to send him flying across the room and into a table, which collapsed to the ground under his weight. The others opened fire, the bullets bouncing harmlessly off the thick skin of Luther’s upper body as he grabbed the nearest table, throwing it at two other men, crushing them beneath its weight. Then he was running at the next guy, pushing his gun aside and grabbing him by the neck, slamming him into the ground hard enough that his skull cracked. Then the gun was in his hands, and the last guy was down, followed by a quick bullet to the head for each of the guys under the table. Tossing the gun aside, Luther stalked over to the first man, still unconscious on the ground. It made it easy to wrap a hand around his neck and squeeze until it crumbled under his hand, leaving Luther once more alone in the donut shop.
That done, Luther grabbed a sharp enough knife from the counter, digging the knife into his upper thigh- his upper body was too tough skinned to be convenient to put a tracker in when his leg would do just as well. After a moment of digging, he found it, pulling it out and quickly binding the wound. It would have to do for now.
That taken care of, Luther exited the shop, dropping the tracker in a puddle on the ground and leaving the scene behind, already focussed on the next problem.
He didn’t notice the woman peeking up from behind the counter only moments after he’d left, wide eyed at the mess in her shop.
The thing about driving with Klaus was that he rarely went above ten miles an hour while on roads that had the slightest possibility of containing people, and would sometimes ask if that person over there was dead or alive, and wasn’t great conversation because his entire focus was on the road and the ghosts that apparently populated it. In other words, it probably would have been faster to walk than to drive with his brother, but Ben was tired and walking sounded hard right now and he’d rather take a nap in his brother’s passenger seat as they took forever to get… actually, he wasn’t sure where they were going, and given the police radio set up on the dashboard, he doubted Klaus did either. Still, he hadn’t been kicked out of the car yet, so he didn’t particularly care what Klaus was getting up to.
Static burst from the radio. “ Gunshots reported on the 400 block of Milton A venue, Griddy's Doughnuts. ”
“Griddy’s,” Ben murmured. “I want donuts.” Donuts sounded really good right now.
Klaus chuckled. “Well, Benerino, I don’t think I can promise you anything given that the place sounds like it’s gonna be a crime scene at the moment, but I’ll buy you some when everything’s cleared up, how does that sound?” I’m going to buy you food so you don’t starve to death in the streets, Ben heard, which he did appreciate, really. Even if he was absolutely fine on his own and Klaus didn’t need to worry so much. “Okay, I can drop you off at the bus stop, sound good? I’ve got to get to work.”
Ben mumbled something that vaguely sounded like agreement. At least the bus meant less walking. And he did have a dealer he wanted to visit, which would be hard with Klaus driving him… yeah.
Ben closed his eyes as Klaus continued driving through the night.
Allison trudged back up to her apartment, the entire day having left her feeling drained. Being back at that house, with her siblings… it had awoken the old voice, the one that whispered that she was less than them. They had powers, they were special, she was ordinary. She had no place there, in that house or in their lives.
That was fine. She didn't need them either.
Unlocking the door to her apartment, she stepped inside and flipped on a light, revealing a face with an awkward look on it.
“Jesus!” Allison hissed. “ Luther? ”
“Uh, hi Allison,” Luther responded, having the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry, I didn't want to stand around outside your apartment and freak out your neighbors-” something told Allison that wasn't the whole story, but she let it go- “so I let myself in.”
“Through my locked door,” Allison pointed out, amusement slipping into her tone. He just looked so awkward.
“Yeah.” Luther gave a half shrug. “I unlocked it.”
“You can say you picked the lock on my door, Luth- is that blood? ” He'd been back for what, a few hours now? And he was already injured? That hadn't been there back at the house, had it? Had they just not noticed?
“It's nothing,” he brushed off, which didn't make her feel any better.
Allison sighed. “Why are you here?” Because clearly, something more was going on.
“I've decided you're the only one I can trust.”
Allison stared. “Why?” What the hell was going on?
“Because you're ordinary.” Allison held back a grimace at the word, but Luther must have noticed anyway. “Because you'll listen.”
Of course. Because that was the only thing she was good for. She had no powers, she couldn't fight, but any attention her siblings bothered to give her she hung onto every word. She hated that she knew that and couldn't bring herself to stop.
So she went to grab something to clean the wound on his leg with, and she listened.
“When I ended up in the future, do you know what I found?” Luther asked.
Allison silently shook her head.
“Nothing.” Luther looked down, eyes far away. “Absolutely nothing. I think I was the last person alive in the entire world.”
Allison stared at him. That was… that was crazy.
“I never found out what killed everyone, but I did find something else.” Luther looked up again. “The date it happens.”
It felt like the world was holding its breath.
And then came the words that changed everything.
“The world ends in eight days,” Luther said. “And I have no idea how to stop it.”
For some reason, the first words that came out Allison's mouth were, “I'll put on a pot of coffee.”
It sounded like they were going to need it.