Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Happy one-year-and-four-months."

Klaus' eyebrows drew together and he titled his head towards Dave. "Dave, dear," he said, "I haven't known you that long." The couch dipped as Dave settled next to him and Klaus leaned towards Dave until he felt his arm settle around his shoulders.

"I know, I know," the veteran hummed, "but what you have been for that long, is sober!"

Klaus snorted, tipping his head back. "Aw, you keep a calendar! How sweet!"

"Of course I do, idiot," defended Dave. His fingers tickled the short hair at the nape of Klaus' neck, drawing little circles with the pads of his fingertips. "I'm proud of you."

"You're only saying that because as my boyfriend you feel obligated to."

"Not true! I'm saying that because it's true. You're doing great."

"It's not like I really have a choice." Klaus let out a thoughtful sigh. One year and four months of agonising sobriety that was completely not his intention. One year and four months of complete darkness. How fun. Nonetheless, the last year or so had been pretty good, once he'd gotten accustomed to sobriety and blindness. 

The first few months, however, had been hell. If not for Ben, Klaus knew he wouldn't still be here. Sobriety itself was horrible. Being so suddenly and completely crippled like he had, too, was horrible. At the same time, it was hell on earth. He'd been in the hospital for a while after the accident, healing, detoxing and being forced to deal with some counselling that he was reluctant to admit had helped ease him into things, but after that he'd been on his own. He'd called home - the academy - and Reginald had sent a car for him and he'd spent the rest of the day fumbling around the academy with the help of Grace and Pogo. He didn't see Reginald until the next morning once he'd woken up in the infirmary. Grace had found him drowned in the bath. 

It was slow going. Luther was on the moon at that point and Klaus was useless in terms of missions for Reginald. After his suicide attempt, Reginald had spoken to him when he woke up. It had been the single most odd conversation he'd ever had with his father. In a very Reginald way, he'd given Klaus as close to a pep talk as Reginald could physically give. It had also somehow been a scolding, too, but what else should one expect from Reginald Hargreeves. 

Nonetheless, Reginald had acted the most father-like in that single conversation with Klaus than he ever had in their entire childhoods. He had almost seemed apologetic, if Klaus didn't know him any better.

For the first few weeks they lived around one another in silence. Pogo and Grace - mostly Grace - and Ben, of course - had helped him around the academy until he had it memorised like the back of his hands. He wallowed in self pity for a while and contemplated slipping under the water for too long every time he had a bath, thought about phoning the number of a dealer and meeting him outside the academy and taking everything on the spot, thought about sitting on the ledge of the highest window and leaning too far forwards, or of walking out onto a busy road. He didn't, however, and he pinned that on Grace and Ben as his main sources of comfort and support during those times.

After then, though, Reginald approached the topic of his powers over one of the rare times he joined him for breakfast. Klaus had vehemently declined, spitting insults and curses at his bastard father, but over the next week Ben had managed to convince him to give it a shot. Was Reginald enough of a sadist to torment his poor, blind son? 

Surprisingly, he wasn't.

He didn't go near the mausoleum again. Instead, he worked with Ben and the ghosts of nannies (he didn't comment on that though it made his stomach burn with curiosity. He could remember only ever having Grace) in the academy, learning how to, apparently, banish them in some way. Reginald explained it as putting a wall up between himself and them, and Klaus heard less ghosts after that. In the following few weeks, he'd come to learn he had telekinesis, too, much to Reginald's pleasure. 

Overall, he stayed in the academy for about six months. It was an odd time, being the only one of them there and having Reginald's sole focus on Klaus in a way that wasn't as horrible as it once had been. Unnerving, almost. He expected to be chucked back in the mausoleum at any time, but Reginald never approached the topic. He thought he wanted to many times, but he never had. Not by the time Klaus left again. He wasn't sure why he left; what the hell was he supposed to do, after all? But he did. He had been talking with Grace in the kitchen when Reginald came down, sat at the table, ruffled his newspaper and announced, "Number One is returning tonight."

Maybe it was simply the idea of seeing his siblings again, or maybe it was Luther in particular, or maybe it was his new situation, but he found himself stuffing all his money - now sober and clean, Pogo had returned to giving him his allowance regularly. All of the siblings were given a liveable allowance, save for Klaus whose had been in smaller dosages to try and dissuade him from spending it all on drugs, which it hadn't. Now, though, he had saved up quite the amount - and all his clothes into a bag and walking out with a pair of sunglasses on. 

The first thing he'd done was by a cane. It was a cool cane, though, with a lion head on the handle. That, paired with the sunglasses, was enough to (usually) convey his lack of sight. He hadn't necessarily wanted to buy it, but walking on the streets into the town centre had made him sick of bumping into people and being assumed as simply rude rather than Ben couldn't tell him to dodge in time. The next thing he'd done was get lunch and cigarettes, and then he'd gotten a motel room while pondering if he could phone Pogo up and discuss his financial status and branching it out enough to get a small apartment. While Diego, Vanya and Allison might be able to work to afford their own place, Klaus had no idea how he was supposed to hold a job. 

He did get that apartment, though, two weeks later. A month later and he had met Dave.

Dave was a veteran that worked in a bookstore as well as volunteering for little jobs around the city. He'd struck up a conversation after seeing Klaus in his bookstore, seemingly intently reading a book. Of course, though, Klaus couldn't read. Sometimes he'd go there and hold open a book for Ben to read, turning the pages when instructed to do so and he'd simply pretend he was reading it. He thought it was funny.

Dave, after several days of Klaus appearing to 'read' different books, had struck up a conversation; asking what books he liked, commenting that he seemed to really like reading, asking what he thought of the book in his hands. It had taken Klaus twenty minutes to finally manage to admit to Dave that he wasn't, and he could not, read the book in his hands. He made up some excuse that he thought it was funny and hoped it confused people and he'd simply daydream while looking at books. And poor Dave, he'd felt bad for what he had said despite Klaus owning up to it, and he had insisted on getting him the book he was (not) reading and coffee from the café across the street.

A month later, and they were dating. Dave had moved into his apartment three months ago. A true love story if Klaus ever knew one.

(Klaus ended up explaining the truth about himself, Ben, and the Umbrella Academy later on.)

It hadn't been easy. It still wasn't. But, it was getting better. He was able to make jokes about it and Ben would laugh now, instead of grimacing sympathetically.

"Maybe not," hummed Dave, "but you've dealt with it extremely well."

Klaus snorted but leaned into his touch. "Yeah, whatever. I just like pranking people."

"I'm still not over that. I still have all that embarrassment, horror and shame. I can still see your shit-eating, smug smirk when you said you were blind. I have nightmares about it."

Klaus laughed, shaking his head. "Well, the cane and the glasses should have given it away!"

"The cane was from a thrift store and I'm pretty sure used to be a pimps!"

Dave laughed, deep and hearty, and Klaus reached out to the side until his hand came upon the lions head of his cane and he tapped it against Dave's chest. 

"Well, I hope so. It wouldn't fit with your aesthetic if it wasn't."

"Did you just say my aesthetic is that of a pimp?"

"It might possibly resemble one," Dave said sheepishly, and Klaus slapped his side lightly.

"I am both insulted that you think I look like a pimp and also complimented by the fact you think I could be in charge of a sex club," he said, puffing his chest out. 

Dave matched Klaus' grin with one of his own and Klaus dramatically gasped as his lips pressed against his cheek before he stood up, stretching.

"Want a hot chocolate?" He asked, and Klaus hummed, fingers dancing over his stomach. 

"Yes please," he nodded with a smile. He reached his hand up over his head and Dave squeezed it as he walked towards their kitchen. He tuned into the television playing in front of him.

It was the news. Dave, for some unknown reason, liked to watch the news. 

It droned on about the end of some story Klaus had missed while talking to Dave, and Klaus was beginning to zone out of it again, listening to the pages of a book turn as Ben read, when the next story caught his attention.

"Eccentric billionaire Reginald Hargreeves, the man behind the famous Umbrella Academy, has passed away. We have yet to..."

His phone rang. Impeccable timing as always was Pogo's thing, and he knew that was who was on the other line as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and raised it to his ears.

"Master Klaus," Pogo greeted, voice hesitant.

"He's dead," Klaus stated bluntly. His mouth felt dry. "Dad's dead?"

"I... I'm sorry to say that he is. He passed away two days ago from a sudden heart attack... I'm sorry for the sudden call, Master Klaus. I'm reaching out to the rest of your siblings. I would greatly appreciate it if you'd return to the academy to attend your father's funeral."

Klaus' mouth worked silently for a moment. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. Of course I'll be there, Pogo. I'll... when's everyone coming?"

"I'd like to suggest arriving tomorrow," he offered, and Klaus nodded and swallowed.

"Yeah. I'll... I'll be there. I'll come. Take care, Pogo," he said softly.

"Thank you, Master Klaus. I look forwards to seeing you again."

Klaus hung up. 

Dave's hands settled on his shoulder.

"Oh, hi, Ben."

Klaus could feel his hands turn cold as his powers worked on their own, and he supposed he had made Ben corporeal by accident. Dave was used to it, though.

"Hey, Dave."

"Are you alright, Klaus?"

Klaus swallowed and nodded. He didn't know why he was so thrown. "Dad's dead."

"I'm sorry."

"He was a bastard."

"He was still your father," Dave murmured softly. Klaus moaned, reaching up to place his hands over Dave's.

"I have to go," he stated. 

"That's fine," Dave dismissed, thumbs gently rubbing his shoulders, "you should."

"They don't know."

"Who don't know what."

Klaus pressed his lips into a thin line. "My siblings. They don't know my whole..." He waved a hand around his face. "Situation, you get me?"

"Ah," Dave murmured. "You didn't tell them."

"Unless Pogo or Grace told Luther, then none of them should know. I didn't phone any of them after the accident."

"This is gonna be interesting," Ben muttered, and Dave snorted.

"Shut your pie hole, Ben," snapped Klaus with no real edge to his words. He knew Ben was smiling. Klaus hauled himself to his feet, clapping his hands together and snatching his cane. "Right! Well, come help me pack, Davey dear. I need you to pick my clothes, I can't see them."

"That's never stopped you before. In fact, the last time I told you your clothes didn't match you flipped me off."

"I don't need sight to know true fashion, Dave. Just because you're stuck in the sixties and seventies."

"They had good fashion!" Dave defended, one hand on Klaus' back as they made their way to their bedroom.

"Keep telling yourself that," snorted Klaus. 

"I will, thank you."

Klaus slumped onto their bed, stretching his legs out. He heard Dave fumble for one of their large bags and he put three different outfits into the bag, running each item of clothing past Klaus.

"Your beloved leather pants. The ones with the lace up side."

"Oh, yeah, definitely."

"Red Hawaiian shirt? The one that used to be mine."

"I love that one, babe. Put that in."

"Flowy pants."

"Colour?"

"The, uh, like red wine kind."

"Nah, they're too summery."

"That pink patterned skirt that looks like a scarf."

"Yes! Oh, oh, put the white shirt in with it - the knitted, sheer one! It goes with it."

"You need something for the funeral."

"I'll wear some dark, depressing outfit there. Put something colourful in."

"Alright... how about - oh - the baggy, surfer, hipster type hoodie? The one I really like."

"Oh! Oh! Yes! With some shorts. The denim ones."

"You're sorted, then. And plus, you might end up coming back to stay here."

Klaus scoffed. "Hopefully. If I stay there too long they'll notice something's up."

He heard the bag thump onto the floor and the bed dipped as Dave sat down next to him, thigh pressing against his.

"Klaus, I'm no expert on your family dynamics, but maybe you should just tell them. Sit down and talk to them."

"Dave's right," commented Ben, and Klaus gave him a dirty look.

"Ben says you're right," Klaus conveyed. Dave laughed softly, squeezing his knee.

"Of course I am."

"Shut up. But then I'd have to deal with them acting like I can't walk down a set of stairs by myself, or get a glass of water for myself, and all the sad looks... no thank you."

"Well, technically you wouldn't have to deal with the sad looks," stated Dave, and Klaus laughed.

"Technically you're right, but Diego would get so self-pitying that I'd feel it," he said, shaking his head. "Maybe. If it comes up. We'll see."

Dave sighed, running a hand down his back. "You're crazy," he said, and Klaus grinned, turning to face him. He raised a hand to cup his cheek.

"I thought you knew that?" He asked with a pout, and Dave leaned in to steal his lips.

"Oh, I know," Dave stated with a laugh, hands settling on his hips, and Klaus returned the laugh with a smile on his lips.

"You can't wear a skirt to a funeral, Klaus."

"Yes, I can," Klaus argued, folding his arms over his chest. "And I will. Whether it ends up a long, elegant, appropriate black skirt or a neon pink mini skirt is your choice, Dave."

His lover let out a sigh from the wardrobe, turning to glance at the pouting Klaus on the edge of the bed. "This is non negotiable, huh?"

Klaus grinned fiercely. "Absolutely. Now, give me the fancy black skirt; the taxi'll be here any minute."

"You were the one who wanted to sleep in to, and I quote, 'snuggle'."

"Are you saying you didn't want that too?"

"... no."

"Exactly." Klaus jabbed a finger in his direction, and then stood up as Dave came close and handed him the skirt. It was light and soft in his hands, with a little ribbon belt tied into a bow around the waist, and he stepped into it. Next was the button up shirt, but he left it unbuttoned and threw a blazer over it. Next came his jewellery; long necklaces that trailed down his chest. A couple of thick rings settled on his fingers, and Dave held his jaw still as he painted his lips black. 

That was one of the things he missed; he could no longer do his own makeup, and he hardly ever did eyeliner or eyeshadow any more. He didn't like showing off his eyes anymore; once he would have argued that they were his best feature. That bummed him to no end, and often times Dave had found him upset because of it, although he assured him they were still beautiful. He only kept his sunglasses off when he was at home or alone.

However, he had found a love, now, for lipstick, and consequently so had Dave, as he was often the one to apply it. He had gotten damn good at it, too. For this occasion today, he requested the matte black one he had.

"You look stunning," Dave commented softly, and Klaus grinned. When he felt Dave's breath close on his face he turned his head to the side.

"You just did my lipstick, babe," he grinned, and Dave snorted. His lips pressed against his cheek instead and Klaus hummed. "And should you be saying that? I'm going to a funeral."

Dave shrugged. "I'm just saying the truth."

"Aw, you're so sweet," Klaus hummed, hugging Dave close to him. "I tricked the right bookworm."

Dave laughed, squeezing his shoulder. "You sure did. Come on, like you said, the taxi will be here and I've got to catch the bus." He urged Klaus to his feet, ensuring he had his bag, wallet, phone and keys before they hurried out. The taxi Klaus had called for him was, sure enough, waiting outside, and Klaus pressed a kiss to Dave's cheek as they parted.

"Call me later," Dave requested, squeezing his hand. "Or whenever you want. It'll be alright," he said softly. Klaus offered a soft smile and a nod.

"I know, I know. Go get your money," he said, nudging Dave slightly to urge him off to catch his bus to work as Klaus made his way to the taxi. 

"Know the Umbrella Academy?" Klaus asked the driver, who hummed in confirmation. "Cool. There, please."

The drive was short and quick and Klaus handed the money over, letting the driver keep the change before he clambered out. The metal gates of the academy were open and anxiety swirled in his gut. 

The last time Klaus saw his siblings was years ago at Allison and Patrick's wedding. He wondered how everyone had changed since then. He wondered if they'd believe him when he said he was sober. He wondered if they'd notice his eyes.

"Well," said Klaus, walking up the steps and nudging the door open. "Home sweet home."

Chapter Text

"Klaus! It's so good to see you again, dear!"

Klaus smiled at the sound of his mother's voice, turning around and opening his arms out to greet her.

"Hey, mom," he said, and he felt her slip between his arms to give him a gentle kiss. Her fingers danced around his face, running through his hair and pushing it away from his forehead.

"How are you doing?" She asked, and Klaus patted her arm gently. Her voice was as sweet and gentle as it always had been, no hint of sadness in her voice at all. When Klaus had come back to the academy, she had been acting odd. Like one would with years of isolation, he supposed. It wasn't like Reginald would be having full conversations with her every day. He felt a pang of guilt about leaving her in the academy.

"I'm doing just dandy," he said, flashing her a smile. "Is anyone else here?" 

"Diego, Luther and Allison are already here. I believe Allison and Luther are in your father's office, and Vanya should be here any moment. Is Ben with you?" 

"Hey, mom."

Klaus smiled slightly, tipping his head an inch in Ben's direction. "He says hi," he told her, and could tell her vibrant red lips turned up into a wider smile.

"Hello Ben, dear. I hope Klaus hasn't been too much trouble," she said, and Ben snickered. Klaus gasped dramatically. 

"I'm insulted you think I'm anything other than perfect!" 

Grace let out a soft chuckle, fingers squeezing his cheek.

"Of course not," she replied, "now, you should go see your siblings. There are cookies in the kitchen if you're hungry."

Klaus patted her shoulder softly, reaching out to kiss her cheek. "Thanks, mom," he said, and he heard her heels click, click, click on the marble floor. 

Despite not having been here for months, Klaus could still remember the exact layout of the academy. Of course he knew it from growing up here, but those six months he'd spent had made him know it so intimately. Six paces to this door, nine to the staircase, four to the kitchen. Two steps to the left and he'd walk into one of those stupid marble pillars. He'd learnt it all the hard way, through trial and error and a mass of bruises. He knew that the living room was around eighteen steps away from where he stood now, and the couch was one, two, three, four paces from there and to his left. Sure enough, his knees came into contact with the cushions and he slumped against the couch, stretching his legs out and perching his hands on top of his canes' lion head.

"Are you not gonna seek the others out?" asked Ben, sitting on the arm of the couch to his left. Klaus shrugged.

"Nah. They'll come down here eventually, I guess. Or I'll wait for Vanya to come. Either way, they can come to me," he said with a grin. He pushed his sunglasses up his finger and then tipped his head back with a sigh. He could hear Luther's voice echoing as he spoke to Allison, and then he heard the gentle, almost inaudible clicking of shoes. 

Klaus used to wonder if blind people had better senses, and as it turned out, they did. Or, at the very least, his hearing had gotten slightly sharper. He was simply more tuned in to picking up sounds and identifying them; he had to be. Half the time it was for his own safety. 

Klaus turned his head to the doorway. "Diego, dear?" He called, lips tilting upwards. The footsteps paused and then continued forwards quicker than before. Ben snorted.

"He's still wearing that knife belt," he said, and Klaus huffed an amused breath from his nose.

"Of course he is," he muttered. He heaved himself to his feet, stepping closer. "Oh, it's been so long!"

Diego hesitated a couple of feet away from him and Klaus opened his arms, cocking his head to the side and raising his eyebrows. "Come on," he drawled, "hug your favourite brother."

Diego snorted, but he did give Klaus a quick hug. Klaus counted it as a win. "It has been a while," Diego uttered, stutter-free, and Klaus hummed, running a hand down his arm. "How have you been, Klaus?" He asked. Are you still high? Klaus translated.

"Oh, I've been magnificent, Diego!" He announced, clapping his hands together. 

"Really?" 

"Oh, yeah," Klaus hummed. He stepped backwards until he was close enough to slump back down on the couch. "Been doing great. And, get this, get this; sober."

Diego's eyebrows raised. "Really?" He asked. He heard him sit down on the coffee table in front of him and he nodded. 

"Yup! Over a year, now. Technically, like, sixteen months as of yesterday."

"You're kidding." It wasn't said with malice. Klaus smiled.

"I wish I was," he snorted jokingly, and he could feel the dirty look Diego gave him. "I kid, I kid. But, yeah, serious. Clean as a whistle! Now, that's enough about me, how about you?" He asked. That's how Klaus found out that Diego had been kicked out of the police academy he'd been in, and that didn't really shock Klaus. He held out a hand for Diego to high-five, and he did so reluctantly when Klaus insisted it was an accomplishment nonetheless. Plus, he was still being a nuisance and popping up in investigations and such, which Klaus thought was great. 

"Yeah, I just got some time off for the funeral. Which is great; work's been boring lately," he said, and Klaus snorted. Only Diego would call being a vigilante work. 

"Only you would want there to be more crimes to entertain your vigilante needs," he said with a teasing grin. Diego huffed, mumbling something but the front door opening and closing cut him off. Klaus sat up.

"That must be lil' Vanya," he announced, standing up. He heard her step hesitantly into the academy, ever unsure of herself and her part in the family. 

"You're excited to see everyone," hummed Diego, and Klaus shrugged.

"It's been quite some time, Diego! You should be, too. I won't tell Luther if you're not, though," he grinned, clicking his tongue. He headed towards the doorway again, leaning back against the doorframe.

"Hey, Van," he sang, wiggling his fingers in a wave. "Long time no see."

"Klaus," Vanya greeted, shock in her voice, and then she slipped over to his side and at Klaus' encouragement she hugged him. "How are you?"

"I'm just peachy," he stated, ruffling her hair. "Look at you; you haven't changed a bit. Keeping me young, Vanya," he said with a thoughtful sigh.

"You look... good, Klaus," replied Vanya thoughtfully, glancing him and down, and Klaus grinned. 

"Of course I do," he stated, putting a hand on his hip. "I always do." Vanya chuckled softly, patting his arm.

"Of course," she echoed. "Hi, Diego," she said hesitantly. Diego shifted awkwardly, huffing a breath.

"Hi," he said tensely. Klaus supposed he didn't take too kindly to Vanya's book. 

"I, uh, I'm gonna look around," she said, and she patted Klaus' shoulder. Klaus gave her a two-finger wave, listening to her feet take her further away. He reached out to pat Diego's shoulder.

"I'm gonna get a drink. Feel free to join me," he offered, heading towards the kitchen. Diego hesitated a moment before following after him. Klaus made his way to the cupboards in the back, opening one up.

"It's empty. Next one," Ben murmured by his side, and Klaus let out a heavy sigh.

"They keep moving stuff in here," he sighed with the shake of his head, closing the cupboard and moving to the next. He reached his fingers out before they brushed a glass and he pulled one down, then tipped his head back. "You want one?"

Diego waved a hand. "Nah. Mom made me coffee when I got in," he said. Klaus hummed, closing the cupboard and moving to the fridge. 

"Orange juice is top right," muttered Ben, and Klaus reached out accordingly. Then he grabbed his cup, lined them up, and poured until Ben said stop. Then he returned the carton of orange juice to its place, closed the fridge, and took a sip.

"So, what's with the cane?" Diego asked, and Klaus raised his eyebrows, flexing his finger over the lions head.

"What about it?" He asked, mocking a defensive tone. Diego snorted.

"You look like a blind pimp."

Klaus slapped a hand on his chest, gasping dramatically. "Diego! You know, if I had a dollar for every time someone called me that. Well, I'd have three dollars," he said. Diego snorted. Ben laughed.

"Glad to see I'm not the first," Diego said, and Klaus grinned.

"I mean, the cane might have been a pimps. But it looks hella fancy, doesn't it?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever," Diego deflected, and Klaus beamed at him. He heard two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs and he let out a groan. 

"Here comes the big guns," he joked, setting his glass down and pushing himself off the counter. He heard Diego snort and murmur something in agreement just as Luther (and Allison) wandered in.

"Allison!" Klaus exclaimed, waving in her direction. "The Allison Hargreeves! Can I get an autograph?" 

He heard her laughter and her heels clicking as she wandered over, and he opened his arms to pull her into a hug while murmuring, "I can't believe Allison Hargreeves just hugged me."

She slapped his arm lightly when they pulled back. "Glad to see not much has changed," she laughed, voice soft, and Klaus smiled. 

"I'm just enthusiastic to see my siblings! Hi, Luther," he said, nodding in acknowledgement to him. 

"Well, now that everyone's here, we need to talk," Luther said, waving off his greeting. Klaus huffed, folding his arms across his chest. He lifted the lion head to his face.

"You'd acknowledge my presence, right?" He asked, pouting.

"Klaus," Luther moaned, and the man in question shrugged innocently.

"I'd just like to say," Ben said, "that I'm glad you don't have your sight."

Klaus cocked his head to the side questioningly.

"Luther looks like he's been on some serious steroids. He's, like, doubled in size."

Ah. That's nice. Guess the moon worked wonders on the body, thought Klaus, but he set that information aside and waved a hand.

"Alright, alright. Let us go have this little talk," he said, and followed Luther out to the living room where Vanya was waiting. They all took seats - or stood - around the room, Klaus sitting right next to Vanya. Maybe that was just to make her feel a little more included. She was still so quiet. Then again, he supposed it wasn't like anyone - himself included - ever made an effort before to raise her confidence. Maybe he'd regret that now.

"I guess I should get this started," said Luther, running his hands down his thighs before standing up as if to call everyone's attention to him. Klaus tipped his head away from Ben who had been informing him that, indeed, everyone looked pretty good. Allison looked a little stressed but Klaus had heard that she was trying to get custody of her daughter, so he supposed that was why. Diego seemed, unsurprisingly, already fed up by Luther, but healthy. Still hot-headed and dismissive, but that had been Diego since he was a teenager. Once upon a time he had been a sweet little kid. Rest in peace, Reginald. 

"So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service," he said. Klaus fumbled with his bag, reaching for his cigarettes. He felt Diego staring at him, but hey; he hadn't touched alcohol or drugs in ages. The least he could do was smoke when suddenly seeing his siblings again at their fathers funeral. He was stressed. Luther continued. "In the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at dad's favourite spot."

"Dad had a favourite spot?" Allison echoed, and Luther hummed.

"You know, under the oak tree. We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?"

Everyone awkwardly glanced around. So it seemed nothing had changed for Luther, then, either. Luther had always been dad's favourite - or Reginald had always acted like he was, anyway. He had heavily played the Number One card, tending to Luther as the leader and role model, but Klaus suspected that their numbers meant nothing really, until it eventually became a competition, a way to wedge them apart from one another. Luther had been completely blind to that. Of course he'd further distance Luther by doing personal things like that with him. Hell, even Klaus, sad and crippled, had never sat outside with him. Then again, there had been that whole disappointment speech, and Klaus knew and accepted he had long since irreversibly lost any pride Reginald held for him. Klaus was okay with that.

"Will there be drinks?" Klaus asked, leaning forwards and pulling his cigarette away from his lips. "I am just parched."

"What? No. And put that out. Dad didn't allow smoking in here," he said with disapproval. Klaus took a long drag of it and sighed.

"Well, dad's dead. If he wants me to stop smoking he can come down and slap me himself."

"Look," Luther interrupted, "listen up. There's still some important things to discuss, alright?"

Klaus shrugged innocently, holding up his hands and slumping into the seat. He nudged Vanya with his elbow. "All down to business, huh?" He mumbled jokingly, and Vanya let out a small, soft laugh.

"Like what?" Diego asked bitterly.

"Like how he died."

"Here we go again," he muttered with a bitter laugh.

"I don't understand," Vanya said, "I thought he died from a heart attack."

"Yeah, according to the coroner."

"Well, wouldn't they know?"

"Theoretically."

"Theoretically?"

"I'm just saying," defended Luther, "at the very least, something happened. The last time I talked to dad, he sounded strange."

Klaus snorted, tipping his head back. "Oh, quelle surprise!" He mumbled. 

"Strange how?" Allison asked. 

"He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who I trust."

"Luther," sighed Diego, hauling himself out of the chair he was sitting in. "Dad was a paranoid, bitter old man who started to lose what was left of his marbles." He stalked forwards and Luther shook his head.

"No," he said, firmly. "He must have known something was going to happen. Look, I know you don't like to do it, but I need you to talk to dad."

Allison scoffed. Ben said, "he's talking to you."

Klaus got that, thank you, Ben. He leaned forwards, waving a hand. "That's - that's not how it works," Klaus stated, "I can't just call dad in the afterlife and be like, "dad, could you just... stop playing tennis with Hitler and take a quick call?" I can't do that."

"Since when?" Luther asked. "That's your thing."

"I - I - I can't," Klaus repeated, raising his eyebrows. Luther snorted.

"You're high," he stated, and Klaus laughed.

"I wish I was, listening to this nonsense," he said, standing up and jabbing the lions head in his direction. "But, actually, no. Hello sobriety." He waved his hand, palm open, to show off his HELLO tattoo. 

"You're sober?" Allison repeated. She did that a lot, apparently. 

"He is," Diego backed up, and Klaus stammered for a moment. Well, he hadn't expected Diego to do that, but he smiled at him.

"Boom, see!"

"So why can't you do it then, if you're so sober?" asked Luther, and Klaus groaned, leaning back and stretching his arms out above his head.

"Because," Klaus reiterated. "That isn't how it works. I don't just pluck ghosts out of their little hidey-holes, Luther. And, ghosts tend to move on unless they have unfinished business, or they were murdered or something." Klaus waved his hands out. "I don't see dad anywhere."

"You don't see anything," Ben muttered with amusement, and Klaus snorted. Once he'd gotten comfortable enough to start cracking the blind jokes it became a running commentary for Klaus. Not that he really minded; he'd rather that than the initial awkwardness that they'd had.

Luther sighed, but he seemed to drop the topic now. Klaus suspected it fell easier since Diego had backed him up, rather than digressing into calling him a junkie. Klaus made a mental note to thank Diego at some point in his life for that.

"Alright. Then there's the issue of the missing monocle."

"Who gives a shit about a worthless monocle?" snapped Diego, and Luther gave him a look. 

"Exactly. It's worthless. So, whoever took it, it was personal. Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge."

"Is he saying what I think he's saying?" Ben asked incredulously, sharing a look with Klaus (who didn't return it) and Klaus voiced that.

"Where are you going with this?" He asked carefully.

"Oh, isn't it obvious, Klaus?" Diego said, bitterness in his voice. "He thinks one of us killed dad."

"You do?" Klaus said when Luther grunted and sighed speechlessly. 

"How could you think that?" Vanya asked, shocked, and Klaus tipped his head in her direction.

"Great job, Luther. Way to lead," commented Diego before he walked past him and out of the living room.

Klaus shook his head. "You're crazy, man. You're crazy." He put his cigarette out on the little ornamental plate on the table next to him that he knew was there and stood up, following after Diego's footsteps.

"I'm not finished," Luther said, but Klaus could hear Vanya and Allison getting up.

"Sorry, I'm just gonna go murder mom, I'll be right back," Klaus snorted. He twirled the cane in his hand, shaking his head in disbelief. He knew Luther was... protective of dad, and probably would have inquired about his death even if he had been there to witness it, but that? That was uncalled for. With a sigh, Klaus headed up to his old bedroom, knowing it was exactly as it was as he'd left it months ago. He dropped his bag at the bottom of the bed and fell onto the bed, legs hanging off the edge.

"Well," said Klaus, tipping his head over to where he could hear Ben. "Lovely to see all my siblings again. Only took an hour to get accused of murder."

Ben snorted, shaking his head.

"Would it be the Umbrella Academy if that didn't happen?" He questioned, and Klaus pointed at him.

"Touché." 

Klaus took a few moments to relax before reaching for his phone. What time did Dave get off work at? He had no clue. Either way, he ordered Siri to phone him. It rang for a few moments and Klaus debated just hanging up when Dave picked up.

"Hey, Klaus," he greeted, voice crackling over the line. Klaus smiled at his voice.

"Hey babe," he hummed.

"How's it going?" He asked, fumbling with something.

"Oh, God," snorted Klaus. "We're having a service soon - Sundown - but we had a little 'talk'. Luther thinks one of us killed dad. Imagine that! So, uh, I'm hiding in my room."

Dave let out a small laugh. "Wow, yeah. That's kinda bad."

"You don't say." 

"Well... did you?"

Klaus laughed, shaking his head. "Dumbass," he muttered affectionately. "God, can I come home already?"

"You are an adult, Klaus," said Dave, and Klaus groaned.

"Making decisions isn't fun, though."

"Other than murder accusations, how's it going?"

"Well," Klaus hummed, "they know I'm sober. I didn't say for how long and if they believe me is an entirely different situation, but they know. They don't know, however, about anything else."

Dave let out a sigh, bouncing between scolding and amused. "I still say you tell them, Klaus. It's gonna get out of hand."

"Well, that's more fun, isn't it!" Klaus defended. Then, sappily, "I miss you."

Dave chuckled. "I miss you too, darlin'. I've got another couple hours before I finish work, so I gotta run now, but call me later? I'll have a hot chocolate for you when you get back."

Klaus moaned. "Ugh, fine. I'll talk to you later, have fun with your books." He pulled the phone away and hung up, dropping it aside. He didn't want to stay here for too long - he was a busy man, he had shit to do - and he did miss his home. He wanted to go back to his and Dave's little apartment and smell dinner that Ben was cooking and cuddle with Dave on the couch. That was what his home was, not the academy. 

His apartment was a small thing; one bedroom, one bathroom, and a joint kitchen and living room, but he liked it. They had a big window in their bedroom and mismatching furniture. He had different pieces of artwork around the house, some that he'd randomly picked out, some Ben had wanted, some from Dave. Everything was bright and colourful and homey, and Klaus was sad that he couldn't see it. But still, both Dave and Ben assured him it was exactly the kind of horror he'd be proud of if he could see it, and they'd described it to him multiple times. Plenty of bright afghan blankets, childish pillows, tie-dye bedsheets and bright plastic utensils. Their living room curtains had flower patterns on them and their bedroom curtains had bananas on them, apparently. 

His home life, too, was a dynamic he much enjoyed. At nights Ben would go on walks or they'd leave books out for him to read while Klaus used Dave as a pillow. They'd wake up and it was a race for Dave to get the bathroom first because Klaus, despite not having a bath, still took ages to get ready. They'd found out that showering together was not an option; it simply resulted in bruises from trying to manoeuvre in the small space, and Dave found out that shower times were Klaus' thinking times. What he had implied might be 'fun' turned into watching Klaus half-disassociate under a burning hot spray of water for an hour. Dave often made breakfast for the two of them and Klaus would turn on the television and not listen to it. Dave would go to work and Klaus would do whatever he felt like during the day, and then he and Ben would cook dinner together now that Klaus could keep him physically manifested long enough to cook it. They'd have it ready for Dave coming in from his later shifts and eat it together (Ben couldn't eat it, but he did enjoy cooking and now forced Klaus to buy recipe books) and it was nice. Every Wednesday night Dave would go out to his group therapy to help with the lingering PTSD he had from his time as a soldier. Klaus didn't ask him much - he spoke about it when he wanted to - but on bad days Dave would shake to the sound of silent guns and he'd walk with a stiff limp from age old injuries. 

Sometimes they'd go out for dinner together; maybe down to the little Italian café down the road or, once, to that fancy restaurant twenty minutes away that they had to dress appropriately to. Dave liked picnics, too; they had bought a large, stereotypical picnic basket and packed it full of food and they'd headed out to the beach one nice evening. Ben had wanted to see the water and Dave wanted the picnic, so it was a win win. Sometimes they'd go out and do things just for Ben; see a specific movie, take some guided tour around a museum, go to the art galleries. 

It was easy to say that life for all three of them seemed to pick up once they met one another. The three of them worked perfectly, and Dave had taken to Klaus being part of the Umbrella Academy and his ghost brother living with them surprisingly well. 

And Klaus wanted that right now. Sure, he loved his siblings, but the tense atmosphere, the arguing, the distrust; he didn't like that part of it.

"Klaus?" 

He turned his face towards the door, creaking open. 

"Everyone's getting ready for the memorial," Vanya informed, and Klaus hummed, hauling himself up.

"Alrighty," he groaned, stretching his legs. "Let's get this over with."

They walked downstairs together. Klaus left the cane in his room. He didn't need it here.

"Are you really sober?" Vanya asked timidly, and Klaus smiled down at her.

"Yup. Sixteen months, sis," he nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Sometimes it feels like sixteen years..." he trailed off dramatically, snickering to himself.

"Why?"

Klaus hesitated, pursing his lips.

"Sorry. It's just - I know you've been to rehab before, but it never stuck then. Why now?"

Klaus shrugged his shoulders. "Well. There was an accident. Went too far one night, had to be put in a coma for, like, five days. Guess it just... really shocked me. Decided then and there that that was it. Detoxed in the hospital, came back to the academy for a little while, actually, and got my act together. I've got an apartment now. And an amazing boyfriend."

Vanya's hand inched out and Klaus squeezed it softly. 

"That's great, Klaus," she murmured, and Klaus smiled.

"Yeah. It is. I'm betting twenty bucks Luther calls me a junkie within the next forty-eight hours, though." Vanya snorted. 

"I think it's raining," she said, averting the topic. "I... there's only two umbrellas left. Uh..."

"One's plastic and pink," informs Ben, and Klaus reaches a hand out.

"Give me the pink one," he says with a grin. "It'll brighten my outfit up. I'm not used to wearing this much black."

"Your lipstick looks great, though."

Klaus grinned, inclining his head. "It does, doesn't it? I've a new found love for lipsticks."

They were in the kitchen when it really happened. He could hear the wind outside - it had certainly picked up since he arrived - and the clap of thunder accompanied it. He felt wind inside, and Ben shouted duck!

Klaus did. He grabbed Vanya and ducked to the ground as something whizzed over head and thudded into the opposite wall. Vanya cursed, slowly standing up. 

"Knives," she muttered, and Klaus raised his eyebrows. 

"Uh, what the fuck?" He asked with a nervous laugh. He heard footsteps hurry towards him and Diego ran past, followed shortly by Luther and Allison, then himself and Vanya. 

Outside the wind whipped violently, threatening to blow his skirt up, and one hand kept it down.

"Ben?" He hissed, waving a hand as if to say what the fuck is going on?

"There's... there's a portal," stammered Ben, "a big, blue portal in the sky. There's..." a thud as something - someone - fell. "Holy shit... is that Five?"

"Five?" echoed Klaus incredulously, eyebrows raised up to his hairline. Just as soon as the wild weather had appeared did it fade, thunder dying down, wind calming. Diego, who had reached out to keep Klaus behind him, dropped his hand, and then a familiar, young voice muttered,

"Shit."

It was unreal. His blood ran cold at the painfully familiar voice and he ran a hand down his face. However, it seemed everyone saw Five, which meant he was alive. Alive and well, apparently, as he walked straight back into the academy with everyone trailing after him into the kitchen. Klaus could hear the familiar pop as he teleported around, fumbling with items as he made himself food. 

"He's thirteen," Ben muttered behind his shoulder. "But in... like, an adult's suit. It's weird."

"What's the date?" requested their supposedly-dead sibling. "The exact date."

"The twenty-fourth," replied Vanya. "Of March."

Five had always been the closest to Vanya. They had gotten on well and his disappearance had devastated her. 

Five sounded smug as he said, "good." 

"So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?" asked Luther. No one said anything and Luther sighed, standing up. "It's been seventeen years," he said coldly. Klaus could catch the sentiment in his voice under all that.

Five replied like a trigger had been pulled, scoffing. "It's been a lot longer than that," he stated. There was a familiar pop as Five teleported.

"Haven't missed that," muttered Luther. "Where'd you go?"

"The future," stated Five. "It's shit, by the way."

Klaus lifted a hand slightly. "Called it."

Five sighed. "I should've listened to the old man," he grumbled, "you know, jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice." He fell silently for a moment, regarding Klaus.

"Nice dress. I like the glasses." There was something in the words Klaus didn't like, but he smiled, running a hand down his skirt.

"Uh, danke. It's fashion." 

"Wait, how did you get back?" Vanya asked. Five sighed, scraping peanut butter out of the jar.

"In the end I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time."

Silence followed.

"That makes no sense," mumbled Diego.

Five didn't hesitate. "Well, it would if you were smarter."

Diego stood up defensively and Luther stopped him with a hand.

"How long were you there?" He asked.

Number Five sighed. "Forty-five years, give or take."

Klaus let out a breath as Vanya leaned forwards. "So, what are you saying?" She said. "That you're fifty-eight?"

"No," Five said, sounding thoroughly frustrated with their idiocy. "My consciousness is fifty-eight. Apparently, my body is now thirteen again."

"Wait, how does that even work?"

"Delores kept saying the equations were off. Eh," shrugged Five. "Bet she's laughing now."

"Delores?" echoed Klaus. Five didn't reply.

"Guess I missed the funeral," he muttered.

"How do you know about that?" asked Luther suspiciously. Klaus snorted as did Diego. Sure, their missing brother killed dad.

"What part of the future do you not understand? Heart failure, huh?"

Diego said, "yeah," at the same time as Luther insisted, "no."

Five hummed, clicked his tongue, and said, "nice to see nothing's changed." His footsteps retreated to the door and Allison whipped around.

"Uh, that's it? That's all you have to say?" She asked, sounding almost insulted.

"What else is there to say? The circle of life," dismissed Five, and then he was gone.

Silence echoed in the kitchen as no one knew what else to say and Klaus ran his hands through his hair. 

"Well... that was interesting," Luther murmured, and Klaus snorted.

Slowly, they disbanded until Klaus and Ben were the only ones left in the kitchen and Klaus reached out for his umbrella.

"Well... what a reunion," he said, and Ben scoffed.

"Nice to see he's alive," he said. Klaus shrugged.

"We knew that, though."

"We didn't. We guessed so."

Klaus waved a hand. "Same thing, really." 

"Just in time for the funeral," commented Ben. Klaus laughed darkly.

"Yeah. Lucky him."

Later, with rain steadily pouring down, they made their way outside, umbrellas up. Luther had Reginald's urn and his ashes and as they all spread out in a semi-circle around him, Klaus left a gap between himself and Five for Ben to stand. Much to Ben's displeasure, right in the way the wind blew his cigarette smoke. Klaus simply smirked.

"Did something happen?" Grace asked, and Klaus grimaced. She really wasn't doing well. She hadn't been when he had arrived, but she only seemed worse now.

"Dad died," said Allison. "Remember?"

Grace faltered. "Oh. Yes, of course."

Allison's voice fell quieter. "Is mom okay?"

Diego was quick to wave her off. "Yes. She's fine. She just needs to rest. You know, recharge."

Klaus kept silent, waiting as Pogo approached them last, cane thud, thud, thudding against the floor.

"Whenever you're ready, dear boy," he said to Luther, who let out a long breath, eying the urn in his hands. Klaus heard him twist the lid off and he didn't need sight to cringe at the way it all thumped together in a pile on the floor.

"Probably would have been better with some wind," Luther said awkwardly. Klaus let out a small laugh that had been bubbling up in his chest since he'd arrived.

One good thing, he supposed, about not being able to see was he couldn't face any disapproving looks laughing at their father's funeral had brought him.

"Does anyone wish to speak?" Pogo asked. Awkward silence followed in which Klaus took a long drag of his cigarette, hunching his shoulders in on himself. Pogo sighed. "Very well."

"In all regards," he began, "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. I will miss him... very much. He leaves behind a complicated legacy -"

"He was a monster," interrupted Diego, and Klaus let another laugh slip, barely covering it with a cough. 

"He was a bad person and a worse father. The world's better off without him."

"Diego," hissed Allison. 

"My name is Number Two," his brother stated, "you know why? Because our father couldn't be bothered to give us actual names. He had mom do it."

The mention of herself stirred Grace and her lips, ever in a smile, moved around the words, "would anyone like something to eat?"

"No, it's okay, mom," Vanya said softly.

"Look, you wanna pay your respects? Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was."

"You should stop talking now," Luther said, voice low and dangerous. Klaus cringed, shaking his head. 

"You know," said Diego, "you of all people should be on my side here, Number One."

"I am warning you," insisted Luther. Diego continued.

"After everything he did to you? He had to ship you a million miles away -"

"Diego, stop talking -"

"That's how much he couldn't stand the sight of you!" 

Klaus heard Diego's thumb jab against Luther's chest, and then Luther strike out. He looked down at the ground, letting out a sigh and shaking his head. Of course they'd be the ones to fight in the middle of their father's memorial service. Then again, it was Reginald, and they were the Umbrella Academy.

"Boys!" Pogo snapped. "Stop this at once!"

Unsurprisingly, they didn't, and when they inched closer to himself and Five, Klaus put out a hand in front of Five to urge him back a few steps. Five slapped his hand and somehow, he ended up behind Five.

"Come on, big boy!" teased Diego, and Luther grunted. Klaus could hear punching and his stomach twisted. Even Vanya yelled out, demanding - pleading - them to stop it. Klaus didn't share the same sentiments, partially spurred on by Ben's muttering.

"Hit him!" He urged. "Hit him!" A small laugh left his lips and he stamped his cigarette out beneath his foot, flinching at the sounds of impact.

He heard Pogo's cane retreat and Five muttering, "we don't have time for this," before going inside. There was another taunt from Diego and then a loud thud and a crack as something fell and smashed. For a moment, Klaus was extremely worried - what the fuck, Luther (or Diego, he had no idea at this point), you can't just, what, behead your brother by blunt force trauma, that's illegal - but Ben let out a loud, mournful groan. 

"My statue," he whined, and Klaus muttered, "oh Jesus fucking Christ, thank God."

"There goes Ben's statue," Allison sighed heavily. As she walked away, he heard Vanya yell and Luther gasp - Diego never missed, he never missed - but he didn't fall. He heard him pant and then shove past Klaus in his hurry to get inside.

"Just a scratch," assured Ben, and Klaus forced tension out of his shaky shoulders. When one couldn't see how intense the fight was, a simple slap fight sounded deadly. He ran a hand down his face and heaved in a breath. 

"You never know when to stop, do you?" Vanya commented sarcastically.

"You got enough material for your sequel yet?" Diego retorted, voice low and unforgiving. 

"He was my father, too," Vanya said quietly. The door opened and closed behind Klaus as she retreated inside, and Klaus listened to Diego urging Grace back inside, voice suddenly gentle and sweet. Diego had always been the closest to Grace, and proven by today, some things never changed.

Klaus fell onto the bench outside, ducking his head down.

"What a fucking funeral," he laughed, covering his mouth. 

"Oh, it was a shit show, Dave! An utter shit show! A shit storm, if you will."

Dave snorted on the other line. "That bad, huh?" He said, and Klaus scoffed.

"More than fucking bad, my dear," he said, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. "They broke Ben's statue having a fist fight! I mean, Ben doesn't like the statue, but still. I got to make fun of him for it."

"Thanks," Ben said, and Klaus flipped him off but grinned.

"I think I'll stay here for the night. We still have some stuff to sort out and - oh, god, that reminds me. You remember Five? I told you about him, I think."

"The one that disappeared when you were thirteen?"

"That one! Yeah, he's back! Apparently he's fifty-eight years old - time travel, it's fucked up - but he also looks thirteen again - time travel, what can I say?" 

"Looks like you've got your hands full," Dave said with a small laugh.

"You have no idea. At this rate I'm gonna need Ben's tentacles," snorted Klaus, collapsing back onto his bed. 

"Take them," said Ben, and Klaus waved a hand. 

"Not like that, idiot."

"Dumbass."

"Ouch!"

Ben laughed at Klaus' dramatic response. 

"You need any help over there?" asked Dave, and Klaus hummed. "I can get time off work."

"You just want an excuse to get out of doing your work, don't ya?"

"Well, I would accept it," Dave laughed. 

"Well," repeated Klaus, "if my boyfriend just so happened to show up at the academy tomorrow morning, I would accept that too."

Dave hummed. "That would be quite convenient, wouldn't it?" He mused.

"Just get your ass - very sexy ass, may I say - down here tomorrow," Klaus snorted, and Dave grinned.

"Alright, alright. I'll see you later, Klaus."

"You better. Only one of us gets to use the blind card."

"Goodnight, Klaus," laughed Dave, and Klaus snickered.

"Goodnight."

Chapter Text

Only Allison and Luther were still around in the morning, and Klaus steered clear of them, instead opting to skip down to the kitchen. Grace wasn't there - she was probably charging still - and Klaus' breakfast consisted of an apple he picked up from the fruit bowl on the counter. He leaned back against the counter, listening to Ben wander aimlessly around.

"I think we should go see Homecoming," said Ben from somewhere beside him.

"And why would we do that?" Klaus asked sarcastically. Ben huffed.

"Because I've seen all the posters around and I want to see it," he justified. Klaus snorted.

"Yeah, well, I'm not stopping you."

"I'd rather you not break your nose walking into shit because I'm not there to tell you there's a pole in your way."

Klaus gasped, laying a hand on his chest. "I'm wounded! I can't believe you think I'd walk into stuff!"

"I'm speaking from experience," Ben stated and Klaus huffed, folding his arms across his chest and taking a stubborn bite of his apple. 

"That was one time!"

"Seventeen, and counting."

Klaus grumbled indecently beneath his breath and threw the apple core outside. 

"Hey, Klaus?" Ben asked, hesitant, and Klaus cocked his head to the side.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think you could... uh, manifest me? So I can see the others?" He asked. 

Klaus pressed his lips together, raising his eyebrows. "What do you need them for?" He asked sarcastically. He shrugged. "I could try, I guess." 

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not," Klaus said, making his way towards the door. "Next family meeting?" He offered, glancing back. Ben nodded.

"That would be awesome," Ben murmured softly, and Klaus smiled softly. He knew that Ben was eager to see his siblings again, but every time Klaus had ever mentioned Ben being with him, the rest of their siblings had shut him down. Klaus had never been exactly sure why; Ben was dead and his entire schtick was seeing the dead. Of course Klaus could see Ben. However, maybe in their own grief and mourning, or in their own distrust and frustration towards Klaus, they had always dismissed it as him being high. He doubted this time would be any different, but at least he would be able to prove it.

"Yeah. Well, I guess you deserve to be able to talk to someone other than me or Dave for a couple of minutes," Klaus joked, and Ben snorted. "Only if you're a good ghostie, though."

Klaus wandered over to the living room, fingertips brushing over the back of the couch, along the display cabinet, picturing it in his mind. There'd be the little trophy on the top shelf in the middle of two photo frames. The lower shelf would have more trophies and ornaments, and on the wall next to it would be the family portraits; one taken each time after one of them left the academy. Or, in Ben and Five's case, died or disappeared. He couldn't remember exactly what the portraits looked like. Had Klaus stood in the middle? Which one of the portraits did he lose the goofy smile he got lectured about? Had they caught the way he tucked his jumper in, the way Five had always had that stray hair falling down the middle of his forehead, the way Ben kept his head tilted down slightly? He couldn't remember. 

Klaus slumped onto one of the chairs near the fireplace. 

"What do they look like now?" He murmured.

"Huh?" asked Ben, and Klaus tipped his head in his direction.

"What do they all look like now?" 

The last time he'd seen them all had been in their early twenties at Allison's wedding. He'd seen Allison a few times since on the television, of course, but he was grateful that the last time he'd seen her face in person it hadn't been hit by the harsh backlight of white hospital lights that did nothing for the bags under his eyes and the tear trails on her face from his first overdose, but rather in the soft lights that shone in her eyes when she walked down the aisle, beautiful, intricate white dress trailing behind her. He was grateful that was the last time he'd seen her; young and happy and beautiful. Even if the memories were fading now and he was clinging to them like a koala. Hell, he was glad that was the last memory he had of all of them; Allison in her brides dress, Vanya in hers, Diego in his suit and bowtie, Luther hugging Allison congrats. 

He was sure they probably hadn't aged a day, but the memories he had of them weren't new and he feared the day that they slipped from his grasp forever. 

Ben settled into the armchair across from him. 

"Well," he began, "other than Luther, they've not changed a lot. Diego's still got his edgy, slick haircut - his hair actually looks a little darker than before, I think - and he's also wearing some Steve Jobs black turtleneck. Same old knife harness thing, sketchy eyes. That scar on his head looks a little better - still pretty out there, but better. Vanya - well, she's not grown since we were fifteen. She cut her hair, I think; it's like, shoulder length, now. Pale, still not a fan of makeup - she's got clear skin, though, I'd be jealous if I had the ability to get acne as a ghost - and, well, you've heard; quiet. Got a quirky clothing choice; button ups are her thing, I think, but she suits them. Five's got this edge to him now; like he's seen some shit, but I guess he's apparently fifty-eight again, so he probably has. He doesn't have any other clothes than the uniform that fits him, so he's rocking that again. Luther - he's probably changed the most. He's grown a few inches, and he's - how do I even say it? He's just really beefy, now. He's been hitting the gym for sure. Allison's not changed a lot; her hair's grown a bit, and she's got really nice jewellery. They're all... healthy. Getting on with their lives, I think. Maybe not in the best of places, but none of us ever have been."

Klaus hummed, tipping his head back and picturing them. 

"And what do I look like now?"

Ben let out a small laugh. "It's not been that long."

"It's been long enough."

"Seriously, though. You could do with a haircut, I guess. You're still pale - you could do with some more sun. And a better shave. Same old horrible fashion sense. You look odd without lipstick on today."

Klaus's fingers reached up, running through his messy hair and pushing it back, his bottom lip jutting out. "Maybe..." he muttered. Then he danced his fingertips over his face, along his cheekbones and following his jaw. He let out a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat.

It got harder to visualise things as time went on. It started off with forgetting little details of things, the differences between things, and most of the time he wasn't willing to ask Ben or Dave to tell him. Did the academy have chiselled architecture on the outside walls or was he wrong? He'd never truly know what an ant-eater looked like, now. What did his hand-writing look like? What did the white house look like? He didn't realise how much he would regret not paying insane amounts of attention to everything. It had only been a little over a year. How long would it be before he was oblivious to the current world around him? Five would be a thirteen year old in his memory forever, even once he physically turned forty. 

His phone rang. It jolted him out of his thoughts and he pulled it out, pulling it up to his ear.

"Hey," greeted Dave, and Klaus smiled.

"Hiya," he hummed. "You coming today?"

Dave groaned and Klaus raised his eyebrows. "I've got to do the morning shift, but after I'm free. I'll be there before dinner time, yeah?"

Klaus groaned dramatically. "I'm lonely!" He whined. "I've been lounging around in my own depression waiting for you to save me."

Dave snorted. "Don't say that," he scolded affectionately. "I'll be there soon. I'll bring coffee."

"You're lucky I like coffee," threatened Klaus, "alright, alright. I'll see you after. Phone me when you're on your way!" He said, and Dave promised to do so before hanging up.

Klaus let out a sigh. Now he had to keep himself occupied for the rest of the day. 

Klaus liked to imagine what Dave looked like. Both he and Ben had described him to him; about an inch or so shorter than Klaus, with messy brown hair, fair skin that blossomed freckles in the sun and deep brown eyes and thick eyebrows. He had ran his hands over him enough time to know he was still well toned, that he had a strong jaw and nose, wide shoulders and calloused hands and firm thighs and dimples at his lower back. But did his eyes shine like a copper penny did in the reflection of a night's campfire? Like melted honey and sage and the same shade as nature after torrential rain? Did his tongue dash out across his lips in an absentminded tic as he devoured a book with them? Did his skin glow warm like caramel under foreign sun? How did his eyes wrinkle and his lips spread when he laughed from the depth of his chest, how did his eyes look when he woke up and the first thing he saw was Klaus, with messy bed hair and ivory skin that melted into his, or in the moments that Klaus never knew he was there yet and he was oblivious to his watchful gaze? How did Dave look, with cheeks flushed and hot in a sweaty tangle of his limbs and bed sheets, or the occasions he'd fallen asleep against Klaus during a movie? How did Dave look? He knew what Ben saw, and he knew what Dave saw, but he had no idea how Dave would ever look to himself. He had no idea how he'd see Dave. He had no idea what he looked like.

Klaus would never know. He wanted to grab a poet or an artist and thrust them towards Dave, point at him and go describe. Tell me what you see. What does he really look like? 

But he couldn't. Klaus painfully accepted that and knew Dave looked like the dip by his hips that Klaus' hands settled onto, the wide expanse of unmapped skin on his back, the hearty laugh and paper cuts on his thumbs, the sound of muttered curses when he struggled to cook a new recipe and the stubble that steadily grew in and tickled Klaus' hands.

Klaus heaved himself to his feet.

"We're gonna go get food," he announced, fingers flexing over the lions head of his cane and tapping it against the ground with each step. "Like, donuts or something. Griddy's is open now, right?"

Ben hummed thoughtfully, trailing after him. "Maybe. Might as well try it."

"Exactly the positive thinking I like to hear, Ben!" Klaus exclaimed. He hopped down the stairs, pondering which way to go, before ducking down the alley down the side of the academy. The same one that, years ago, him and his siblings would clamber out of the window of one of the plenty spare bedrooms and hurry down the fire escape, snickering and hushing one another but the punishments they'd get if dad found them sneaking out to stuff their faces full of donuts were always worth it in the end. 

"Uh, why is Five climbing down the fire escape?"

Klaus hesitated, listening to the clanging of metal on metal, and shrugged. "Who knows. It's Five," he said, carrying on.

"You'd think he'd just," Ben waved a hand, "teleport."

"You would think that," agreed Klaus, and then he waved a hand.

"Yoohoo! Five!" He called, the beginnings of a mischievous smirk tugging the corners of his lips upwards. "What ya up to?"

As he hurried closer he could hear the thud of a heavy car door closing and a sigh tumble past his brothers lips. "Klaus," he greeted. "What are you doing?" He asked. Klaus raised his eyebrows, a hand dancing in the air in a vague gesture.

"Things. Stuff," he dismissed, "but what about you? Pulling a whole cat burglar scene on us, huh?" He jerked his head in the direction of the fire escape.

"He put his stuff into a van," mumbled Ben, kicking his foot through a stone. Klaus hummed.

"And I thought I was the thief of the family? Then again, I can't drive..." he let out a mournful sigh, clasping one hand over the other on the lions head - a year and four months and he had yet to give the poor thing a name, he realised - and he leaned forwards. "If you stole from Luther, I solemnly swear I won't tell," he grinned, cocking his head to the side.

Five scoffed, turning away. "You're still the family thief," he said, waving a hand, and Klaus gasped.

"Good! I worked hard for that title! Anywho, Five-o, you've got my interest now; what are you up to?"

Five regarded him quietly for a moment, then. "You're sober, right?"

"As sober as the day I was born!"

"You got a suit?" He asked. Klaus raised an eyebrow.

"With me? Uh, let me check." He tapped his hands over his pockets. "Nope. At home? I've got one."

"That'd take too long," muttered Five. "D'you want to help me out with something?"

Klaus pursed his lips, tilting his head towards Ben who shared his intrigued look.

"Well," he said, "I certainly do now. Why do I need a suit? I mean, I look great in one, but they're so boring and my apartment's, like, fifteen minutes away."

"Get in the back of the van. I'll be five seconds."

There was a familiar pop and a whoosh of air, and Klaus knew he was alone. He let out a sigh, hesitating a moment before reaching a hand out and stepping forwards until it came into contact with the van in question. His hand searched it until he found the handle and he pulled it open, then clambered inside, kicking a bag out of his way. By the time he had sat down, Five was leaning into the open door and chucking a bundle of clothes onto his lap.

"Put them on."

Klaus pinched the clothes between his fingers, lifting them up. "Uh, whose are they?" He asked.

"Dads. You're about his height anyway. Just put them on," insisted Five, and the van door fell closed. Klaus jumped slightly and groaned, shaking his head to himself. How was he supposed to manoeuvre around enough to change clothes in the back of this van? And, how did Five even get a van anyway? He was fairly certain it was illegal to sell a vehicle to a thirteen year old.

After surely gaining many bruises, Klaus managed to pull Reginald's suit (and didn't that just make him feel queasy) on and then slide into the passengers seat. Five had already dibs-ed the drivers seat.

"So," began Klaus, catching his breath and running his hands down the suit to try and smoothen it out, "do I get to know what's going on?" 

"You're going to pretend to be my father."

"What?" both himself and Ben spluttered, and Klaus turned to stare at him. Five clicked his tongue, fiddling with the car until it started and lurched forwards, pulling out of the alleyway.

"Holy shit," gasped Ben, pressing himself into the back of the van, "we're going to crash."

"Look, I need to find out who bought something. A prosthetic eye. It's from the future, and it's very important that I find who's going to buy it. But, I look like a damn thirteen year old, so they won't take me seriously or let me get that information. So, that's where you come in."

Klaus pressed his lips together. "So, I pretend to be your dear old daddy and join you in going to some, what, lab place so you can find the owner of an eye that they have but you also have 'cause you stole it from them in, like, a few years?"

"A few days. And yes."

Klaus snorted, clapping his hands together. "Okay. Cool. That's fine. But, uh, one last question; what?"

Five sighed through gritted teeth, the leather of the steering wheel squeaking as he tightened his grip on it as if he was trying to choke it out. "Let me do the talking."

"Oh, I'm fine with that," said Klaus, waving a hand and turning is head towards the window and resting his forehead against the cool glass. "You know, if a cop sees us, we're so done for."

"Why?" asked Five, as if the fact that he was a thirteen year old driving a car hadn't crossed his mind yet.

"You legally can't drive yet," stated Klaus. His fingers followed the dips and carvings of the lions head, its mane and snarling muzzle, deep eyes.

"Then you better hope we don't get caught," Five said, and Klaus laughed.

"Oh, I like this side of you. We'd be such good partners in crime, don't you think?" He mused, lips twitching. "What would we be called? Time travelling old man and hot, intelligent Ouija-Man?"

"Every time you speak, I lose brain cells."

Klaus pouted, laying a hand on his chest. "Ouch. That hurt. Hear that? He thinks I'm dumb."

Ben snorted behind him, mumbling something Klaus couldn't catch.

"Who are you talking to?" asked Five, curious. Klaus hesitated, pressing his lips together.

"Ben."

"Ben's here?"

"Back there," Klaus waved a hand to the back of the van. 

Five hesitated. Ben waved. 

"He says hi," Klaus offered.

"No I didn't."

"Shut up."

Five swallowed. "Hi, Ben," he said, and then Ben said hi. "Has he always been with you?" asked Five.

"Pretty much, yeah," Klaus nodded, slumping in the seat. "It's been a long few years..."

"Jerk," hissed Ben, and Klaus smiled, blowing a kiss back to him.

"Wait. Do you actually believe me?" Klaus asked, and Five watched him for a moment.

"Ben's dead. Your whole thing is seeing the dead. You're sober. I don't see why you wouldn't be able to see him," he stated, and Klaus hummed in acknowledgement, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

"I guess," he mumbled, turning back to the window. 

Five pulled the car to a stop a few minutes later, and when he stepped out, so did Klaus. He staggered after him, shoulders tense as they crossed a rode. He heard cars whiz past too close, felt the rush of air, and when his toe kicked the edge of the pavement he was more than glad to step up onto it.

"There's a set of stairs," informed Ben. "Like, eight feet in front of you."

Klaus hopped up them with ease, clicking the cane against each step until they flattened out. He could feel as they stepped into the shadow of the towering lab and he tipped his head to Five.

"Well, let's get this show on the road," he grinned, and continued stepping forwards until Five's hand snatched his elbow and pulled him back.

"What are you doing?" he asked, and Klaus raised his eyebrows.

"Uh, going to pretend to be your dad," he said, snorting. "Old age is really getting to you."

Five tightened his grip slightly on his elbow for that. "You can't wear those glasses inside," he stated. "And that stupid cane - put it away." His hand reached out, brushing his cheek, and Klaus quickly slapped his hand away and jumped back.

"Hey! I paid good money for these!" He said, pouting, throat tight.

"I don't care," snorted Five. "They already don't take me seriously in there. Just put them away." He reached out again and Klaus wondered if slapping a thirteen year old would look bad. He did it anyway.

"What - Klaus!" growled Five, smacking his hands back. 

"They're mine -"

"Take them off -"

"Don't -"

"Stop hitting me -"

"I'll stop if you do -"

"Stop being so childish -"

"You're the thirteen year old -"

"I'm fifty-eight -"

"Say that to your baby face -"

Five smacked the cane from his hand and Klaus heard it clatter to the floor. "Fernando!" He whined. 

"What?" Five hissed, and Klaus threw his hands up.

"The lion! Her name's Fernando!"

"Female lions don't have manes, Klaus."

"Not with that attitude, they don't," countered Klaus. He took a moment to catch his breath, hearing Five do the same until he sighed.

"Klaus," he said, quieter. Klaus looked away, pressing his lips together, heart racing. "Take your glasses off."

Klaus folded his arms across his chest. "No," he said stubbornly. "I'll leave if you don't want my help."

Five seemed to shuffle on the spot for a moment, conflicted, hand still on Klaus' elbow. "I saw it. Your eyes. I know." He sounded awkward, as if he was unsure of how to approach the subject. Klaus felt his stomach drop, his mind singing how how how.

He forced a grin. "Know what, brother dearest?" He asked, voice low. Five sighed, letting go of his elbow and sitting down on the stairs. Klaus fight or flight reaction died down slightly as Five didn't seem to continue to approach the subject harshly, and he supposed that was why he sat down next to him. 

"How?" Klaus asked in a whisper. He wasn't sure he could make his voice any louder.

Five tensed. "The future," he shrugged. "I saw your... you. Saw your eyes. I figured it had happened during... Klaus, there's an apocalypse coming. That's why we're here. The prosthetic eye; it's tied to the apocalypse. I figured it had happened during that. If someone could cause the apocalypse, I don't think they'd bat an eye at doing that. I assumed that me coming back and figuring out the apocalypse would also then divert that..."

Klaus blinked, processing and mentally noting that information for a future follow up, and then he blew out a long breath. "Came a little too late for that," he said, reaching out and clapping a hand onto Five's shoulder. Five tensed under his touch but let his hand linger there for a moment. 

"I'm sorry."

Klaus waved a hand. "Bah. You're sorry, Ben's sorry, I'm sorry; we're all sorry. Don't be," he stated. 

"The others don't know?" he asked, and Klaus' lips twitched. He shook his head.

"Nope," he said, popping the p. His fingertips danced up his face, sneaking under his sunglasses. 

"Why not?"

"Well, I've only seen them a day," Klaus said in a light tone. "Plus, it doesn't really matter."

"Doesn't really - Klaus -..." he heard Five sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose. "How bad is it?" 

Klaus shifted on the spot. He didn't like talking about it to anyone other than Ben or Dave, and he wanted this conversation to be over.

He pulled his glasses off and turned to Five. A moment of silence passed, save for the initial hitch in Five's breath that Klaus caught, and Five's hand reached out to tilt his head down and to the left. He waved his hand in front of his face. 

"What happened?" He asked. Klaus let out a sigh, pushing the glasses back onto his face and looking away.

Honestly? Klaus only remembered the accident in snippets. Perhaps it was the drugs he had been on, the trauma, the head injury or the haze of hospital days that blurred together after it, but his memory of it was in flashes of memories he felt like weren't even his. Of course, though, between the doctors, police, Ben and his own memories, he had a full recount of the night. 

"Well, it wouldn't have been as bad if I hadn't sobbed on the floor and rubbed my eyes for a solid half hour," he snorted, nails scratching the rough ground beneath his hands. He let out a sigh, tipping his head back. "I dunno. Drugs, sketchy people, something about alkali's and detachments or something. A fun night, over all."

He heard Five stand up at wander to the side and Klaus wondered if he was done with him - he wouldn't blame him - but he returned a moment later, nudging Klaus' thigh with Fernando. Klaus snorted, reaching out to take the cane and standing up. 

"Where is he?" asked Five, and Klaus cocked his head to the side.

"Where is who?"

"The guy," Five said through gritted teeth, "who did that."

Klaus waved a hand. "In jail, I think. Probably. Don't worry about it - look, Ben keeps an eye out for me, yeah? He's basically my seeing eye dog. Seeing eye ghost, if you will," he assured him. "He's kind of shit at it, actually. He's let me walk into a shit ton of poles."

Five laughed and it didn't sound amused at all. Klaus cringed. 

"Don't tell the others," he requested, and Five stopped pacing.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because," said Klaus, rolling his eyes, "they'll be so... stupid about it. Five... please."

He heard Five sigh, clear his throat. "You better tell them," he muttered, and Klaus grinned.

"All in due time, all in due time. But we have a job to do!" He clapped his hands together, whirling around and continuing forwards, eager to shake off the unwanted conversation. Five reached out, tugged him a few paces to the right, and they continued walking again. 

It, surprisingly, didn't take them overly long to get seen to; they had obviously been expecting Five's return. Klaus followed after them, through a corridor and up in an elevator, and then eventually they found themselves in an office belonging to one Mr. Bigs. 

Klaus reached one hand out. "Pleasure to meet you," he said, "I'm the father."

Five gave him a warning look (as if Klaus could even catch it), as if scared Klaus was going to blow their cover, but Mr. Bigs reached out to shake his hand. "Thank you for coming, Mister..."

"Mister Schulze, please," said Klaus.

"Mister Schulze. Please, take a seat. Just behind you." 

Klaus inclined his head, reaching behind him to find the arm of the chair and lower himself into it. He crossed one leg over the other, leaning Fernando on the glass table in front of them. 

"Like I said to your son earlier," began the man, "any information about the prosthetics we build here are strictly confidential. Without the client's consent, I simply can't help you."

"Well," snapped Five, "we can't get consent if you don't give us a name."

Mr. Bigs shrugged. "Well, that's not my problem. I'm sorry, there's really nothing more I can do, so..."

Klaus, snapping back to the conversation, heaved a sigh, sitting up a little straighter. "What about my consent?" he queried, cocking his head to the side. 

"Excuse me?"

A half formed idea in mind, Klaus pressed on, his eyebrows drawing together and lips turning down in a frown. "Who gave you permission... to lay your hands... on my son?" He asked, voice cracking, and he jabbed a finger at Five.

"What?" asked both men, confused.

"You heard me," scoffed Klaus, standing up. 

"I didn't touch your son," said Mr. Bigs. Klaus hummed, leaning on the table with one hand. His fingers brushed something and he picked it up, rolling it in his hand before setting it back down at Ben's murmur of, "some tacky snow globe." His other hand reached out to settle on Five's shoulder once the boy inched closer for him.

"Oh really? Well, then how did he get that swollen lip, then?" He asked, shaking his head.

"He doesn't have a swollen -" began the man, but Klaus cut him off by turning to Five, running his hand up to his cheek and then cranking it back and punching him. Five grunted, staggering to the side, and Klaus leaned forwards until he touched the desk again.

"I want it. Name, please. Now."

"You're crazy," accused Mr. Bigs, and Klaus laughed.

"You have no idea," he said. His hands danced around the table, sliding over folders and plucking up the snow globe, shaking it. "They're pretty things, aren't they?" He mused, and then he brought it to his head with enough force that the thin glass shattered, cutting his forehead and raining glitter and water all over the place. Klaus groaned through clenched teeth, holding his head in his hands. "Fuck, that hurts," he hissed, curling his fingers in his hair. 

He heard the beep of a phone being picked up and Mr. Bigs calling for security, and he launched forwards, wrestling it from his hands and hearing things fall off the desk.

"There's been an attack," he gasped, "in Mr. Bigs office, and we need security now! Schnell!" He threw the phone aside, shaking his head and letting out a sigh. "Now," he grunted, "here's what's going to happen, Grant -"

"My name's Lance -"

"In about sixty seconds, two security guards are going to burst through that door and see a savagely beaten thirteen year old and his defenceless, blind father, and I'm gonna tell them that you beat the... shit out of us," he cried, and it dissolved into breathy laughter. "Oh, you're gonna do great in prison, Grant. Trust me, I've been there. Can tell just by your little voice... you're gonna get passed around like a..." he thrust his hips into the air, and then he waved a hand. "You're just - you're gonna do great. That's all I'm saying."

Mr. Bigs took in an unsteady breath. "Jesus," he muttered, "you're a real sick bastard."

Klaus grinned. He felt a shard of glass press against his gums and he spat it out to the side. "Thank you."

It seemed his intimidation tactic worked better than Five's had, because the man finally relented once Klaus promised to call off the security. He followed after him and Five as they went to some room full of filing cabinets. Klaus leaned against a table, twirling Fernando in his grip and smiling at the doctor. He heard his hands shake as he pulled out the filing of the latest prosthetics, flipping through pages.

"Oh," he murmured. "That's strange."

"What?" hissed Five, leaning forwards.

"Uh, the eye. It hasn't been purchased by a client yet."

Klaus ran a hand down the man's back. "What? What do you mean, buddy?" He asked, tapping Fernando into his side.

"Well, uh, our logs say that the eye with that serial number," he stammered, "this can't be right. It hasn't even been manufactured yet. Where did you get that eye?" he asked, and he heard Five curse and laugh in disbelief.

"Well," exclaimed Klaus, clapping his hands together and making the man jump. "Thanks for your help. I appreciate it, Grant. We'll be on our way. And remember; everyone believes the blind guy. We were never here, got it?"

Mr. Big's stammered an answer but Five had already gotten up, walking swiftly out, and Klaus hurried after him, hips knocking onto things.

Outside, Five finally slowed down. "This isn't good," he muttered, running his hands through his hair.

"I thought I was pretty good," Klaus commented, lips twitching. "'What about my consent', bitch," he snickered, shaking his head. 

"Klaus, it doesn't matter," snapped Five. Klaus heaved a breath, pulling his mind back to topic. Right. The apocalypse.

"The apocalypse," he stated, and Five nodded.

"Yes, the apocalypse. In the next seven days someone out there's gonna lose an eye and bring about the end to life as we know it. We don't have time to wait for this to be made and bought," he snapped, shaking his head. Klaus tried not to notice the implication that they were going to die. Well, they had, then, hadn't they? Five had seen the future, seen the end of the world, seen your - you. His body, then, and then he had corrected himself. Klaus let out a sigh. That wasn't good. 

 "Hey, hey, hey," he hushed, waving his hands. "Look, take a moment, yeah, breathe. We have got time. Obviously, whatever triggers it hasn't happened yet, and it's not supposed to. You've got time, buddy-o," he offered. Five let out a groan, pacing. Then he dug a hand into his pocket, reached out and put some cash into his hand.

"Get a taxi home," he said, and then there was a pop and he was gone. 

Klaus stood, gripping the money tightly. He didn't need it - he had his own money - but he closed it in his fist and sighed.

"He seems stressed," commented Ben, and Klaus laughed.

"Yeah. Yeah, just a little." 

He went for the taxi. Not home, though, but to the academy. 

Chapter Text

He had seen him come here before. Random days, really. He'd wander in, that cane tap, tap, tapping the floor. He'd wander slowly down the aisles of bookshelves, dragging a painted finger over the spines of the books, muttering to himself. Then he'd stop, stare at the books, and then move suddenly to one that he hadn't even looked at. He'd pull it out, hold up the back cover to read the blurb, and then he'd stand there reading the book intensely. 

Even if he hadn't been there for the past consecutive five days, he was a hard man to forget. Not with the gold rimmed sunglasses, lion head cane, fluffy jacket and weird hand tattoos. For someone that looked like he had suspicious ties to the underground mob world, he spent hours reading. His general appearance, the way he held himself as if there was music playing in his head and he was stopping himself from dancing freely. It looked like he was scared, uncomfortable, unsure of where his limbs ended, where they went.

Dave couldn't help himself. On the fifth day of him appearing to read a book and do nothing else, he approached him.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked, voice warm. The sun filtering in through the front window highlighted the side of his face, his high cheekbones, milky skin. 

"Oh," startled the man, looking up from his book. "Uh. I'm good," he held up the book, "just, you know... reading."

"You seem to do a lot of that," he commented. The man let out a laugh.

"Yeah. Yeah. My brother, he, uh, he loves to read. Kind of passed that onto me," he stated. Dave hummed, ducking his head to look at the book.

"Little Women? I've been meaning to get around to reading that. Is it any good?" He asked. He had never seen the book before. He watched as the man ducked his head, turning back to the book and running his hands over the pages. 

"Uh, yeah, I guess. Pretty interesting. I, uh... like it."

"Oh," said Dave, "if you like that kind of stuff, you might like this - hold on." He ducked down the maze of bookshelves until he found the section he was looking for, and then he took a moment to find the book he was looking for and return to the man, who was back to muttering to himself. He heard Dave approach and stood up a little taller, flashing a charming grin that made Dave's breath hitch. He certainly was attractive; not the kind of guy Dave might usually go for, but the man with a tie dye crop top, leather pants, fluffy jacket and pale skin drew him in. He wondered what he looked like without the glasses that took up half his face.

Dave rambled on about the book in his hands, letting the man flick through the pages and asking him what his favourite book and genre was. It was half way through that that the man reached out, clapping a hand onto Dave's shoulder.

"Look, I'm gonna let you in on a secret," he said, "because, quite frankly, you sound adorable and I feel horrible letting this continue." Dave assumed he had picked up on his terrible attempts to woo him in some way, and the rejection was on its way. 

"I'm blind as shit." 

Well, he hadn't expected that. "What?" He asked, eyebrows drawing together. The man raised a nail, chipped black paint tapping against his sunglasses.

"I can't see shit, man. I, uh - sorry? I think it's funny coming into bookstores and pretending to read because, well; I can't. And usually I wouldn't say anything but you sound like a real wholesome man - uh -"

"Dave."

"Dave. Yeah."

Dave felt his face grow worm in horror and embarrassment. Of course he was; who wore sunglasses inside? 

"Oh, God," Dave groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "I'm - shit - I'm sorry, I didn't realise -"

The man waved a hand dismissively, a small smirk tugging his lips up. "No, no, no, don't be sorry, I tricked you. It's chill," he said, letting out a small laugh. His bony hand squeezed his shoulder and Dave shook his head, utterly mortified.

"No, I - oh, God, I'm sorry -"

"Dave, stop that - "

"Coffee," he blurted. "Let me buy you coffee. Please."

The man hesitated, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head to the side. "Well," he hummed, "I won't say no to coffee."

The man was called Klaus, he found out. He lost his eyesight in an accident not overly long ago. He's virtually memorised this part of the city; hence how he could get to the bookstore unaided. He liked to entertain himself now by tricking people like he had Dave. In the following few weeks, Dave would come to learn that Klaus liked his coffee sweet, that Klaus liked having books read to him because he said Dave's voice was calming. He would come to realise that Klaus had odd quirks and behaviours stemming from his childhood and his life in general. Klaus didn't like small spaces and he issues with intimacy and healthy relationships. He didn't like taking medicine even when he had migraines and it was impossible to get him to the hospital if he needed it. Klaus had a sweet tooth and liked to dance and he had endless knowledge about completely random things, and Klaus liked lazy mornings in with Dave's chest as a pillow. Klaus only ever took his sunglasses off when they were at home, and even then it took weeks after their initial meeting for him to feel comfortable enough to take them off around Dave. 

Klaus was not the kind of man Dave usually went for. Not by a long shot. However, maybe that was a good thing. 

"Have you always had that suit?"

Klaus snorted, throwing himself forwards to wrap his arms around Dave.

"It's dad's," he dismissed, "long story." He ran his hands down Dave's back, up his sides and along his shoulders, and then down his arms until he met his hands. He gave him a goofy grin. "Uh, welcome to the Umbrella Academy."

"It's... big," commented Dave, and Klaus snorted, slowly releasing him from his grip and guiding him inside. 

"You cay say that again. Forty-three bedrooms, nineteen bathrooms, a courtyard... it's a little roomy," he snickered. He waved a hand to the right. "Living room's that way." He waved his hand to the left. "Kitchen and courtyard that way." He waved his hands forwards to the staircase. "All the rooms are up there. Allison and Luther are around, I think. Vanya's out, Diego's out, Ben's there, Five's out; so we're pretty much alone."

Dave's footsteps echoed around the hallway as they walked towards the stairs. "Oh!" He exclaimed. "I bought coffee." He held out his hands that had been clutching the two iced drinks and when Klaus grinned and reached out, he set one in his hand.

"Why, thank you, my dear," hummed Klaus, twirling the straw around and listening to the ice cubes crack against one another. He took a sip, sighing contently. "Exactly the way he liked it," he commented and Dave squeezed his shoulder.

"I've got your order memorised," he stated. Klaus hummed, taking another sip of the coffee. He lead him up to his bedroom and waved his hands out in front of him. 

"Welcome to my humble abode for the beginning of my life," he said, flopping onto his bed. 

"It certainly is a very... you room," commented Dave, the bed dipping as he sat down next to Klaus. Klaus snorted, leaning into his side. 

"It sure is. How was work?"

Dave let out a sigh. "Busy. You know that woman I tell you about, the one who comes in and keeps trying to set her own books in there and stuff?"

"She came back?"

"She came back." Dave nodded, watching as Klaus groaned dramatically with him. 

"Do you want me to beat her up?"

"Klaus!" Dave scolded, nudging his side. "No, I don't. I want her to stop pretending that we can't see her clearing the table and putting her own book there. I think she genuinely might have just printed it out on her printer at home."

"Every author's gotta start somewhere, Dave," joked Klaus, and Dave snorted.

"I wish she'd start in a different bookstore," he stated. When Klaus held out his coffee he took it from him, setting it next to his on the bedside table. 

"Have you eaten?" asked Klaus, and Dave hummed.

"Lucy brought in some food," he nodded. He watched Klaus run a hand up his chest, up his neck, felt his fingertips dance along the edge of his jaw, follow his cheeks up to his cheekbones and along the bridge of his nose, and then back down to his jaw.

"Good," he said, "I can't be bothered going back downstairs." 

Dave scoffed, lips twitching upwards. He reached out to catch Klaus' chin and coax him forwards into a kiss. His nose knocked the sunglasses and he reached up to peel them off, setting them aside on the bed. Klaus' fingers flexed over his cheeks as he sat up, forcing Dave to tilt his head up and towards him unless he wanted to be the first to break the kiss. His heart thrummed the way it always did whenever he touched Klaus. He pulled back, pressing a kiss to his left cheek, then his right. Klaus' eyes fluttered open slowly, misshapen and wide pupils hidden under a thick layer of grey storm clouds, red lightning melting across the glossy whites of his eyes, framed by the rough edges of scarred skin. They tipped down along with Klaus ducking his head and Dave hummed, nudging his chin back up.

"You know, the first day I saw you I thought you were weird as hell," Dave said, and Klaus laughed.

"Aw, thanks," he said sarcastically, lips twitching upwards. Dave snickered.

"I mean, this man with a pimp cane kept coming into the shop to read books and never buy anything, sometimes muttering to himself."

"I just want to say, the lion's name is Fernando," muttered Klaus.

"Fernando," Dave repeated, rolling the name off his tongue. "Nice. It's about time it -"

"She."

"It's about time she got a name."

Klaus grinned, tongue poking out. "It is," he agreed. "And you can't deny that I was the finest looking person you've ever laid eyes on."

Dave laughed, running a hand down Klaus' side. "Well, I can't argue with that," he hummed. Klaus grinned boyishly, dashing forwards to press their lips together. His hands cupped his cheeks tightly, holding Dave close. His tongue dashed out, teasing, followed by taunting teeth. Dave knew that Klaus was all bark and no bite (perhaps not literally), and all it took to make Klaus' back arch and cheeks flush was a hand there, pushing against the small of his back, and his lips there on his neck, grazing the spot with his teeth. Klaus whined, painted nails tugging the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Unfair," he said, sliding himself onto Dave's lap and clasping his hands together at the back of Dave's neck, ticklish fingers drawing a shiver from him. Dave snickered, tipping his head to the side innocently.

"I just know you, Klaus," he defended softly. Klaus ducked his head, pressing his forehead into the crook of Dave's neck and pressing their chests together, slumping against him like a ragdoll. Dave leaned back until they were lying down, shifting to try and accommodate both of them on the small bed while Klaus offered little to no help, limbs full of lead, only moving once to move his glasses out of their way.

"Five knows," Klaus blurted, drawing a pattern on his chest with the pads of his fingers.

"What?"

"Five knows. I was helping him out this morning and he said he already knew about my eyes. The future, I guess," he murmured. Dave watched his eyes stare at the opposite wall, either not blinking for long periods of time or rapidly blinking. 

"How was he? About it?" He asked, running a hand down his arm. Klaus shrugged his shoulders. 

"Very Five about it, I guess," he said. "I don't think he's happy no one else knows."

Dave raised his eyebrows. "Really?" He asked, and Klaus hit him lightly.

"Shut it, you," he snorted. "I'm going to tell them. It's just not convenient yet."

Dave hummed. Klaus tipped his head up to look at him and Dave ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. "Is it ever going to be convenient?" 

Klaus groaned in response, pressing his lips together. "No," he sighed.

"Exactly."

Klaus waved a hand and closed his eyes. "Soon," he promised half-heartedly, "soon." With a heavy groan Klaus heaved himself up, nimble fingers fiddling with the buttons of the suit jacket and waist coat he wearing and dropping it on the floor. The shirt went with it, then the pants. He kicked them off his feet and staggered back to the bed, holding out a hand that Dave took as he slid back into the bed. 

"Long day?" asked Dave jokingly, watching how Klaus seemed to slot himself against his side and curl around him without a second thought. 

"Am I not allowed to hug my boyfriend?" he replied, raising an eyebrow. 

"I'd define this as clinging," commented Dave. Klaus pressed his fingers into his side, bottom lip jutting out in a signature pout, and Dave ran his thumb over his cheek. "I'm not complaining, though," he added, sliding his hand down his side, over the bumps of his ribs and the dip above his hips. His nose bumped against his cheek.

"Get some rest," he said softly, running a finger along his cheekbone. He himself was tired as well from being on his feet all day, even despite the coffee that seemed ineffective now. Klaus didn't seem to protest much either, letting out a heavy bright and seeming to melt into his side. 

"I guess I could," he murmured jokingly, offering a chaste smile, and Dave acknowledged him with a snicker. He busied himself by twirling Klaus' short hair around one finger, eyes closed against the darkness in the room, until his breathing evened out and matched that of Klaus'.

Dreaming, Klaus had come to find, was weird. He could see in his dreams again, which threw him, however as more time passed the less he did manage to see in his dreams. Nightmares, too, were - well, a nightmare. He wasn't sure if it was better or worse to have a nightmare when he could or couldn't see. When it happened and he was blind he didn't have to face the mangled bodies of the dead, which was, of course, a bonus. However, it sounded so much worse. He couldn't escape the cracks of splintered bones grinding together, or the gurgling as blood caught in their throat. He couldn't escape the drip, drip, drip of blood, or the echoing rush of water that drowned a person or the distant crackling of a housefire. He could hear them drag their feet and limbs across the floor, dig their nails in and haul themselves up to him, hear their teeth gnash as they moaned his name. He could hear them close in on him, drag their crumbling bodies over to him. He can feel the damp and cold of the mausoleum, the rough walls digging into his back, but he simply stared into a never ending void while corpses tried to tear him apart. Sometimes, most of the time, he catches flashes of a blonde man's face, of bloodshot eyes, of escalating violence he never took seriously because he was so high he could hardly understand what he was yelling. 

It wasn't pleasant, but waking up with Dave beside him was always comforting and grounding. He ran his hand along his arm, up his shoulder, and he took in a steadying breath. The house was quiet save for Dave's steady breathing beside him. Pleasantly quiet, he thought, and he slumped into his old bed, tipping his forehead down to press against Dave's collar bone. 

"I think there's something going on with Allison and Luther," commented Ben from somewhere behind him. Klaus groaned, tipping his head back in his direction. 

"What?" He asked quietly, raising an eyebrow.

"I dunno," said Ben helpfully, and he heard him shrug, "I didn't stay. It looked serious."

Klaus snorted. "That's real helpful, thank you." 

He heard Ben snort and mutter, "asshole," jokingly. Klaus grinned over his shoulder. Slowly, he heaved himself up into a sitting position, raising his hands to rub his eyes and push his hair out of his face. Dave's hand limply slid down his side, drawing a snort and heavy breath from him. 

"Morning," said Klaus, tipping his head back to face Dave, who grumbled and re-wrapped his arm around Klaus' torso. 

"Good mornin'," he rasped in response, voice heavy with sleep. His forehead pressed up against Klaus' hip. "Sleep well?"

Klaus gave a quiet scoff, tipping his head back. "Sure."

Dave heaved himself up, fingers flexing over his stomach while nudging him back to his chest and his lips ghosting over the back of his neck. "You're good now," he said softly, nose nudging his neck, and Klaus placed a hand over Dave's. He took in a deep breath, slumping against his chest and nodding.

"I know," he murmured. He rested his head back against his shoulder and Dave turned his head to kiss his cheek. Klaus relished in the moment, interlacing their fingers together. He relished the moment, melting back against Dave.

"Let's go get breakfast," he said finally, forcing himself away from Dave and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Dave's hands slipped away from him and he stretched up, cracks coming from his body that made Klaus cringe. Dave snickered softly, patting his shoulder and climbing off the bed. Klaus fumbled to pull his clothes out of his bag, shoving them on while Dave did the same. Klaus found his sunglasses on the table next to his bed and he slid them on. His hand reached out, knocking against Dave's. 

"Does your family know I'm here?" He asked, slipping his fingers between Klaus' and following him out the bedroom.

"Hmmm, no," said Klaus with a grin. "But they can deal with it."

Dave snorted, shaking his head and nudging his shoulder. "Fair enough," he hummed. "Is anyone thinking of moving back in? It's a crazy big place you got here, Klaus."

Klaus tipped his head towards him, pursing his lips. The academy was a huge building, with fourty-three bedrooms and nineteen bathrooms, give or take a few, with large rooms dedicated to their training years ago and empty rooms that had never gotten used and a large garden and a courtyard. He didn't remember the entire layout of the academy, plenty of rooms still unexplored.

"Who knows," he said with a shrug. "Luther'll probably stay, and probably Five. Everyone else has their own place, though. Plus, I like our place better than this, even without all the empty rooms and echoes." He flashed a joking smile, stepped down onto the ground floor, and turned right, tugging Dave with him to the kitchen. He could smell the remnants of food in the air and he heard Grace at the opposite end, although she turned to greet him when he entered the kitchen.

"Good morning, dear. Oh, hello. My name's Grace. Would you like something to eat, dears?"

"Morning, mom," hummed Klaus. "This is Dave. He's my boyfriend," he introduced, "and, oh, yes please."

"Nice to meet you," said Dave charmingly, reaching out to shake Grace's hand. 

"It's my pleasure." Her hand rested on Klaus' shoulder for a moment. "I'm happy for you. I'll make pancakes."

"Thanks, mom." Klaus wandered over to the dining table, slumping into one seat while Dave sat on the one next to him. 

"How did you convince them to let you get some time off?" asked Klaus, resting his chin atop his hand and turning to face Dave, who shrugged. 

"I'm their best worker," he stated jokingly. "I deserve it."

Klaus snorted, resting a hand on his forearm and squeezing it. "Of course, I shouldn't have even asked," he asked rhetorically, shaking his head. Two plates slid in front of them, then, with Grace's soft encouragement to eat up. Both he and Dave uttered a thank you before digging in.

"She always made the best pancakes," Ben commented and Klaus hummed in agreement, eagerly shoving another forkful into his mouth. She had made it with strawberry and banana slices, as well, and although he didn't focus on where they were he could confidently say she had put the fruit slices in a smiley face on the pancake.

"I'd offer you some," he said, swallowing down the mouthful, "but, you know..." he waved the fork in Ben's general direction. "You can't eat."

Ben snorted. "Thanks," he said, and Klaus grinned, stabbed another bit of the pancake and stuffing it into his mouth.

"It's not very nice to tease Ben about what he can't do," scolded Dave lightly.

"Exactly, Klaus."

"Oh, boohoo," he drawled. "I can't help myself, he makes it so easy."

"I didn't do anything."

"That's all I need," said Klaus, shaking his head in Ben's direction. He stretched his legs out under the table and slumped into the seat. He opened his mouth to say something but he cut himself off when he heard heavy footsteps heading towards the kitchen.

"Klaus?" Luther asked, and Klaus shifted around to face him, raising an eyebrow. 

"Yes, brother dear?" 

"Who's this?"

Klaus tipped his head back to Dave and set a hand on his shoulder. "Dave," he simply said, offering a shrug. Dave offered a smile and a wave. "My boyfriend. Is something going on?"

Luther stammered for a moment, thrown for a second, before he huffed. "We're having a family meeting tonight once everyone gets here," he stated, "it's important. Be there."

Klaus waved a hand dismissively. "Wouldn't dream of not going," he stated.

"Klaus."

"Yes, yes. I'll be there, I pinky promise." He held out his pinky finger, raising his eyebrows. Unsurprisingly, Luther didn't take it. Allison's shoes clicked against the floor as she came over, joining Luther's side.

"Who's this?" she asked, and Klaus snorted quietly.

"Allison, meet Dave. Dave, Allison. He's my boyfriend," he stated, waving a hand between the two of them.

"Boyfriend?" repeated Allison, and Klaus hummed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Dave, standing up and offering a hand that Allison shook. 

"How long?" 

Klaus pursed his lips, turning to face Dave. "Just passed five months, huh?" he said, and Dave's hand danced over his shoulder.

"Yup. Just over five months," he confirmed. He squeezed his shoulder softly and Klaus smiled, reaching up to set his hand over Dave's.

"Well," Allison said with a soft laugh, "congrats. I'm, uh, happy for you. How'd you meet?"

"Thanks, sis. Davey here works at a bookstore. I was doing some reading, he liked what he saw, the rest was history."

"Klaus," Dave spluttered, shaking his head, and Klaus snickered. 

"It's true," he said innocently, lips curling up into a teasing smile. Allison's hand lightly patted his arm.

"It's nice to see you... settling down," she stated. Klaus gave a soft laugh, bobbing his head in a nod.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's nice. Who would'a thought I'd be the one to have the best, normal life out of all of us, huh?" He joked, nudging Dave and raising his eyebrows. 

"Well," Luther interrupted, clearing his throat. "Make sure you're around for the meeting, okay?"

Klaus waved a hand. "I already said yes."

Luther lingered for a moment longer before he huffed, nodded, and retreated out of the kitchen. Allison stayed for a moment longer. 

"You said you were sober," she commented. Klaus hummed, nodding, and then stood up. 

"Yup," he confirmed. "For a while. So boring," he joked, stretching his arms up above his head. Allison gave a soft laugh, shaking her head.

"I'm proud," she stated softly, and Klaus gave her a small smile, scratching the back of his head. He'd dreaded talking about being sober with them because of that - the whole 'I'm proud' statements and the looks he was sure they were giving him. And, inevitably, there would be the suspicions. He was surprised no one had voiced their doubts about it already, honestly. 

"Thanks," he replied, and he patted her shoulder before turning back to Dave. "We've got some time to kill then."

They came back one by one throughout the day, but eventually everyone - save for Five - was in the living room together, waiting for it to begin. Klaus re did introductions between Dave for Diego and Vanya. Vanya had been surprisingly excited for him and Diego had all but studied him as if waiting to catch any hints he was any sort of bad influence on Klaus. Klaus might go as far as to say it was sweet of him.

He collapsed onto the couch, throwing his legs over Dave's laps. He waved an anxious Ben off, who had been positively buzzing at the idea that, finally, he might be able to see everyone again. Or, more accurately, they'd be able to see him again. He understood Ben's anxiety and excitement, and he was afraid that this would be one of the many times that his powers would fail him. 

Luther, once it was known that no one knew Five's current whereabouts or could contact him, began the meeting. 

"It's about dad's death," he stated, and almost immediately Diego scoffed and got up. "Diego, stop. This is serious. We've found something."

Diego sighed, his boots scuffing the floor. "What is it this time, Luther? A missing waist coat?"

Klaus could practically feel the glare Luther gave him. He let out a sigh, shifted awkwardly, and then blurted, "mom killed him."

"What?" Klaus laughed, tipping his head to the side.

"Look, just - watch the tape, okay?" He requested firmly, and Klaus pursed his lips. He tipped his head to Ben's direction, but he stood up with everyone else and shuffled towards the bar. His hip knocked against the table and he stepped on something that made Vanya hiss.

"Ah, sorry," he said, hopping to the side and reaching out to find her shoulder. "You're so short I didn't see you down there," he joked, and Vanya let out a small laugh, scuffing her foot on the floor.

"It's fine, Klaus," she murmured. Klaus squeezed her shoulder and drifted to the side until he felt one of the marble pillars press against his back, and Dave slipped his hand into Klaus', standing by his side.

"It's a tape," said Ben, "of dad's room when he died. He's... in bed. Grace comes in and sits on the edge of the bed and just... watches him. Then she leaves dad to die."

Klaus hummed thoughtfully, eyebrows drawing together. He might not have been the closest with Grace - god knows Diego was the closest to Grace and no one would take that spot from him - but that certainly didn't sound like her. However, when he came back to the academy, she had already been acting a bit odd. As if she hardly realised he was the only person there, and that he wasn't fifteen anymore. 

"I mean," said Vanya, voice quiet, "do you really think mom would hurt dad?"

"You haven't been home in a long time," stated Luther, "maybe you don't know Grace anymore."

"If he was poisoned, it would have shown in the coroners report," Diego stated, voice low.

"Well, I don't need a report to tell me what I can see with my own eyes."

"Maybe all that low gravity in space messed with your vision. Look closer. Dad has his monocle. Mom stands up. Monocle's gone. She wasn't poisoning him. She was... taking it. To clean it."

"Then where is it?" asked Luther. "No, I've searched the house, including her things. She doesn't have it." 

Diego sighed. "That's because I took it from her. After the funeral." 

"You've had the monocle this whole time? What the hell, Diego?" Allison blurted, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Give it to me," demanded Luther.

"I threw it away."

"You what?"

"Look," hissed Diego, and Klaus heard him stand up and stalk over to Luther. "I knew that if you found it on mom, you'd lose your shit; just like you're doing right now."

"Diego, you son of a bitch."

"Hey, guys," Vanya said softly, stepping forward. "No, calm down. Look, I know dad wasn't an exactly... open book. But I do remember one thing he said. Mom was, well, designed to be a caretaker, but also as a... protector."

"What does that mean?" Allison asked sceptically.

"She was programmed to intervene if someone's life was in jeopardy."

"Well," Luther said, "if her hardware's degrading, then... we should turn her off."

Diego snapped to attention again, then. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait," he hissed, "she's not just a vacuum cleaner you can throw away in the closet. She feels things; I've seen it!"

"She just stood there, Diego, and watched our father die," seethed Luther. 

"I'm with Luther," stated Allison, and Diego scoffed, turning away.

"Surprise, surprise," he said sarcastically.

"Shut up," she snorted. 

There was a moment of silence in which Klaus simply shrugged helplessly at Dave before Vanya spoke up, stammering; "I - I don't -"

"Yeah, she shouldn't get a vote," Diego dismissed.

"I was going to say I agree with you," Vanya said, and Diego hummed.

"Alright, maybe she should."

"What about you, ghost boy?" asked Diego, and Klaus startled, raising his eyebrows. 

"Huh?"

"What do you think, then?" 

Klaus pressed his lips together, letting out a heavy sigh. "I'm with Diego," he eventually said, waving a hand in his general direction. "And, by default, Dave's with me."

"Dave isn't part of the family," stated Luther, and Klaus gasped.

"Rude!" He said, but Diego butted in again.

"That's three to two," said Diego smugly.

"Vote's not final, yet," Allison butted in. 

"What?"

"Five's not here," she stated, "the whole family has to vote. We owe each other that."

"Right. We should wait," agreed Luther, and Klaus stood up a little, looking around at the sound of people beginning to disperse.

"Uh, guys," he said, drawing their attention. 

"What is it?" Vanya asked him, and Klaus tipped his head to the side. 

"If the whole family gets to vote, I think Ben does, too," he stated, his hands curling into fists by his side. Luther sighed.

"Klaus, we've spoken about this," he said, disappointment clear in his voice. None of them had ever believed Klaus the few times he'd spoken about Ben being with him; whether it was their own grief for their brother refusing the hopeful idea that he might still be around and that Klaus of all people was the one who got to see him, or if it was simply brushing him off as a hallucinating drug addict, he wasn't sure.

"Yeah, we have," agreed Klaus, "but it's different this time; look, just... give me a moment?"

He tuned them out, then, focusing like he did each time he manifested Ben at home. It always usually took him a moment - sometimes nearing half an hour on bad days - and he hoped today it wouldn't be like that. Just when he feared he wasn't going to be able to do it or that the others would give up on him, he felt his hands get colder in that familiar way and there was a resounding gasp that seemed to echo throughout the entire room.

"Ben?"

Klaus felt his lips twitch upwards when he heard Ben's footsteps scuff against the floor to his left as he stepped forwards.

"Hey, guys," he said, voice small and soft.

"Holy shit," muttered Diego. "Klaus are - are you doing this?" 

Klaus raised an eyebrow and lifted his fists up slightly. 

"Ben," Allison said, and Klaus heard them all clump together in some big group hug. Dave rested his hand on Klaus' shoulder, drawing circles over his shirt encouragingly.

"I missed you," Ben said eventually, and he sounded choked up. "But, for the record, Klaus has been telling the truth. I've been with him," he stated and Klaus grinned.

"Told you!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Klaus," mumbled Allison. 

"I'm... I'm sorry," said Luther quietly, and Klaus waved a hand.

"We all need a good bit of sibling distrust, right?" He joked lightly, but cringed at it. Either wave, he waved his hands back to Ben. 

"You've been here the... whole time?" Vanya asked, and Ben let out an awkward laugh.

"With Klaus, yeah. Watched you all do some real dumb shit," he stated, and his voice bordered on accusatory. Klaus recalled the many times Ben had gone on long rants about their siblings, about some dumb things they'd done. A lot of it ended up in anger at the way they had easily brushed Klaus off and never made attempts to understand him, not once he started the drugs, not after his first overdose, not now. He cleared his throat warningly and could feel the look Ben sent him.

"I could go on forever about that," Ben laughed hollowly, "and I will. Later," he promised. He shuffled for a moment, hesitating. "Right now, I think you should wait for Five. But I... I agree with Luther."

"What?" Diego spluttered as Klaus hissed. Ben was supposed to back up anything he said. Then again, that was always because he didn't have a choice or a chance to voice his opinion.

Luther let out a relieved sigh. "Three to three," he stated. "We need Five."

"Can we talk?" Diego asked.

"Klaus?" Ben asked, stepping closer to him. Klaus shrugged.

"I can try and hold it for a while," he offered with a nod. He slowly made his way back to the seats until his legs hit the couch and he fell into it, and he listened to everyone follow after him, settling around them. Dave settled down on one side, Ben on the offer, and he closed his eyes and let them talk.

Ben was eager to talk. Of course he was; you would be too if you had been stuck only talking to one person for a decade, and only recently a second person. He was eager to make them guilty for not believing Klaus.

"I mean, really. That's his whole thing!" He had said. "Seeing the dead! Why wouldn't he be able to see me?"

Everyone had been... shocked, to say the least. Ben had always been a quiet, reserved person, always the gentle, hesitant one of them all, but apparently spending a decade with Klaus and being able to do anything without consequence had changed him. He was more outspoken, more used to arguing to get his point across and not sugar coating things, used to being able to make snarky comments and speak over people without anyone other than Klaus noticing.

"I'm sorry about your statue," Luther said at one point. Ben let out a laugh, shaking his head.

"It doesn't even look like me," he snorted, "it's fine. I would've done it if I could," he admitted.

"Uh, Ben," murmured Allison. "You're... flickering."

Klaus muttered a curse to himself, gritting his teeth together and digging his nails into the palms of his hands. "Sorry," he muttered, tipping his head down. 

Ben sat up a little straighter. "I'll still be around," he said. "I love you all. Stop being dumbasses and talk to one another." He turned to Klaus. "You can relax now," he offered gently, and Klaus frowned at his fists, willing himself to keep it going for a little longer, but eventually he let out a heavy sigh and slumped into the couch, dropping his hands into his lap. 

"Sorry. It's... hard, sometimes," he said, running a hand through his hair. 

"It's fine," Diego said softly, and Klaus shot him a smile. He clapped his hands together.

"Well, uh... that was our dear ol' brother. But now I think I'm going to go get some rest, if you'll... excuse me." He stood up, tugging Dave with him. "Holler when Five appears, yeah?" 

"Klaus," Vanya spoke up suddenly, and from the doorway he turned to face her, raising an eyebrow. "Tell... tell Ben we love him too."

Klaus tipped his head to Ben. "He can hear you," he said with a smile, waving to the air beside him. Then he continued on his way back to his bedroom, throwing an arm around Dave's shoulder.

"Well," he hummed, "that went better than I thought it would."

"It did," agreed Dave. 

"You could have told them you were blind too. You had the chance," Ben commented from beside him, and Klaus scoffed.

"That wouldn't have been fun, though!" He exclaimed.

"You need to tell them eventually."

Klaus shrugged. "I'll wait 'till then."

He almost immediately collapsed onto the bed as soon he was close enough. He threw his arms out, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Is there a book in here?" He asked, turning to face Dave who hummed, walking around the room. 

"There's one," he confirmed, "why?"

"How'd you feel about reading to me, babe?" Klaus requested with a sly smile. Dave laughed softly, wandering over and sliding into the bed next to him. 

"Alright, alright, sure," he agreed, running one hand through Klaus' hair. Klaus shuffled closer, moving until he could comfortably fit his long limbs on the bed and his head on Dave's lap while Dave fumbled to open the book to the first page. He began to read, voice soft and low and soothing, and with one hand running through his hair, Klaus melted into him and let himself relax.

Ben was yelling. Dave was shaking him frantically and there were gunshots coming from the corridor. Klaus shot up, turning to face his closed door. 

"Two people just broke in," said Ben hurriedly, and he could heart it; grunts and footsteps and gunshots, so, so close. Dave had gone still under his touch save for the tremble in his body.

"Dave," whispered Klaus urgently, hands flitting around to find his and squeeze them. "Dave? You with me? Listen to me, Dave." A gunshot closer made both of them flinch. There were more thuds, arguing, and then Diego's footsteps running down the corridor, being chased.

"You have to help, Klaus," urged Ben, and Klaus bit his lip. He wanted to ask how? How was he supposed to help? Ben seemed to hear his thoughts. "Just - manifest me. I'll help." 

He turned back to Dave, reaching up to cup his face. "You with me, Dave?" He asked, and after a moment, Dave nodded. "Good, good. Look, I'm gonna - I'm gonna manifest Ben. He's gonna take them out, and it's gonna be fine. Is that okay? Can I go do that?" 

Dave reached up with one shaking hand to cover Klaus' and his voice rasped. "Be safe," he said in a whisper. "Please."

Klaus smiled and he ducked his head to brush his lips over his head. "Only if you promise. Remember what they taught you, yeah? I'll be a second. It'll be alright." 

He let Dave be the first to let him go, and only then did he head to the door. 

"You're gonna have to tell me everything," he told Ben, hand on the door handle. Gunshots were still echoing throughout the academy. "Or this is going to shit real fast."

"I will," Ben assured him, and he moved ahead of Klaus as he ducked out of the room, closing the door silently behind them. He could hear them downstairs, obliterating anything in their path, and then there were footsteps behind him. He whipped around, fists clenched and willing Ben to manifest because he was about to be snuck up on -

"Klaus," Luther said, shocked, and Klaus sighed. 

"There's two of them," he blurted, jerking his head to the gunshots downstairs. "With Diego." 

"Shit," muttered Allison. "Let's go."

They didn't need to be told twice. Klaus fumbled down the stairs after them, disorientated, and Luther went first, seeming to launch himself at the first person while Klaus pressed himself up against the wall, nails digging into his palms. It wasn't working, it wasn't working, it wasn't working. He had exhausted himself manifesting Ben earlier, it seemed, and he was paying the price now.

He heard Allison jump in, then, presumably going for the second person, and then they were all fighting and Klaus couldn't do anything, couldn't see.

"Get back, Klaus!" Urged Ben somewhere around him. "If you can't do it just now, get back. Get safe."

Much easier said than done when all Klaus could hear was his siblings fighting and gunshots, he thought. He hardly knew where he was at the moment either, having moved too suddenly, too randomly. Was he in the living room? Outside the door? By the stairs? The kitchen?

Nonetheless, he scrambled to his feet and staggered back, sticking to the wall. "Come on!" He growled, clenching his fists harder as if that would will his damned powers to work. His attempts were cut off by more gunshots, however, and he threw his hands up to cover his face. Two of them - Diego and Allison, by the sounds of it - ran one way, and Luther went the other. A woman said she was going after them and a man said he lost his gun, and there was rummaging around in cupboards somewhere and distant sounds of fighting.

"Klaus, get upstairs," said Ben, his hands going through him and leaving him cold. "To your right and forwards. Get upstairs."

Klaus nodded, using the wall to haul himself to his feet. He never felt as blind as now since the beginning few weeks after the accident and he hated it. His siblings were getting shot at and all he could do was fumble for the stairs. He heard footsteps coming downstairs and, for a moment, he feared more people. Instead, though, a meek voice called out; "hello?"

"Vanya," both he and Ben hissed, sharing a one sided look. 

"Klaus? What's going on?" She asked, hurrying to his side.

"I thought I heard something -"

"Get back!" Blurted Klaus, reaching out wildly until his hand grabbed her shoulder and he yanked her back, stopping her in her tracks to the living room. He hadn't heard the man leave.

It seemed he was right, however, as his warning triggered the man to come out of the living room, and Ben swore.

"Get out of there," he hissed in his ears, and Klaus took several steps back, almost tripping over something on the floor. He manoeuvred so that Vanya was behind him and he was facing the slow, confident footsteps of one of the intruders. He had no idea where to go or what to do, but Vanya had no chance of protecting herself. At least, years ago, Klaus had been forced into those stupid combat training lessons. He could throw a punch if he got close enough. Vanya had never been taught self defence like they had.

"Duck!" Ben cried, and he did. He threw himself and Vanya back, felt wind part his hair as something swung over his head. "He has a mace, Klaus. From the living room. He's taller and bigger than you and you need to get out."

Klaus kept shoving Vanya back, lifting up his fists uncertainly. He lashed out, then, only for the man to easily grab his fist and twist it in a way that made his knees buckle. "Luther!" He yelled, because he had to be around, right? He had to be, and he wasn't ashamed to say he needed him in that moment. 

Something - the mace, he realised - collided with his ribs, and he cried out, the air escaping his lungs. The man let go of his fist and he crumpled to the floor, hands flying to his aching side. He heard his glasses clatter to the floor and get smashed under the man's foot, but it didn't matter much, his eyes screwed close and forehead against the ground as he tried to remember how to breathe. It seemed, though, in that moment, that God heard his pleas and he heard Luther yell and catch his attention. Distracted from him, Klaus took the moment to drag himself across the floor and away from them. He felt a door ahead of himself and he pulled himself into the room, slumping against the wall. 

"Oh, fuck," he wheezed, "I think he fucking broke my ribs, Ben. Fuck. Where am I?"

"I told you to get out of there," muttered Ben, stress clear in his words. "You're by the front door, in the foyer, entrance bit."

Klaus nodded his head, trying to take in a deep breath but the pain in his ribs quickly protested that. All he could do was ride out the wave of pain and listen to Luther back track to the living room. He had it under control. They'd be fine. Diego and Allison could easily deal with the other woman. It'd be fine. He told himself it wasn't Luther on the receiving end of the loud crash in the living room, but by the sounds of everyone's yelling, it was.

Klaus slumped against the wall for a moment, and then he reached up, grabbing onto something to try and haul himself up. "Allison? Is everyone okay?" He wheezed to the clicking shoes approaching him, keeping his head down, eyes closed.

"Klaus, that's not -"

Klaus realised his mistake a moment too late. He opened his mouth to yell but something hard hit his head and the ground disappeared beneath him.

Chapter Text

When consciousness began to ebb its way back to Klaus, he realised many things. It was hot and stuffy, almost unbearably so. He was in a tiny place; he couldn't stretch his legs out any further than they were. His head was almost as sore as his ribs. There was tape on his mouth and tape around his wrists, tight enough to rub his skin raw. He soon realised that the tiny space he was in was a car trunk; clear by the sound that began to reach his ears, of other cars and wheels against the road, and how he jerked around as they drove over speed bumps and around corners, and by the way he heard them open their doors and slam them shut. 

Even after the car came to a stop, they didn't immediately come for him. He wasn't sure how long he did stay in there, becoming increasingly panicked, but eventually the car unlocked and the trunk was thrown open. He cringed away from them, pressing his back against the back of the trunk. They didn't say anything for a moment but then rough hands were hauling him out of the trunk, the man throwing him over his shoulder and hurrying to take him inside where's he's unceremoniously thrown onto a chair. He tried to lash out, of course he did, but every movement made his head and ribs ache. A cold blade cut the tap on his wrists but he didn't have a moment to fight before they were tied down to the arms of the chair. He tried to talk but any sound he made came out muffled and incomprehensible. 

"Well," said the woman, "at least we got one thing from that psycho freak house." She turned to him, then. "I can put a bullet between your eyes quicker than you can scream. Understand?" 

Klaus dug his nails into the wooden armrests beneath him and nodded eagerly. Her nails scratched his cheek as she pulled the tape from his mouth in one quick, harsh yank, and Klaus hissed, cringing away. Her nails moved down, digging into his jaw and yanking his face forwards to look at her. She let out a soft sigh.

"Oh, look at this. We can take our masks off and relax here. The fool's blind."

Despite everything, Klaus blurted, "I can see."

The woman laughed, patting his cheek. "Tell me how many fingers I'm holding up." Klaus stammered, lips moving silently. Where was Ben when he needed him? When he didn't respond the lady patronisingly tapped his cheek. 

"We can relax," she said to the man. He heard them take off their masks and throwing them aside. 

"Let me go," said Klaus, turning to face them. "I haven't got any money."

"We don't want money," the woman stated. "How about we have a little chat instead?"

Klaus groaned, dropping his head and closing his eyes. "You don't have to tie me down to have a 'little chat'," he muttered, tugging against the tape on his wrists to no avail.

"And if I took it off you wouldn't try and fight?" She asked sceptically, and Klaus swallowed. "Exactly. Now, I'm only going to ask you once; Five Hargreeves. Where is he?"

Klaus' eyebrows drew together. What did they want with Five? "I don't know," he scoffed, shrugging his shoulders and looking away. 

The woman sighed as if disappointed and he heard her pace around him. Klaus' fingers pressed into the arm rests beneath him and he turned his head to follow her. She didn't seem at all bothered by him anymore, seemingly comfortable to underestimate him. She walked a circle around him and then stopped back in front of him. The tape returned over his mouth and then, without another word, her fist collided with his cheek. Once, then twice, then three times and Klaus flinched away from her, trying to twist himself away from her as best as he could. Unsurprisingly, it wasn't that successful. Her fingers grabbed his jaw and forced his face forwards and she sad something. He didn't catch it, however, because he was too busy listening to Ben's shocked; "Klaus."

Klaus moaned, tipping his head back towards Ben and trying to pull his head away from the woman. 

"I gave you a chance," she said. "I thought you wouldn't need to be persuaded. I don't play games, alright?"

Klaus mumbled behind the tape gag and she ignored his attempts to talk. He kept his face turned away from her, eyes screwed shut. 

"Klaus," Ben said, "you're alright. You're alright." He assured him softly, voice gentle but firm as he spoke. "Look... you're in the middle of the room. There's two beds behind you and the door's about three feet to your right. It's a motel room. The two of them are here; the man's on the bed. I... you might be able to run out if you get out of the chair."

Klaus shook his head pitifully. He knew they had guns. Even if he managed to somehow get out of the bonds and make it out the door, he'd be dead within seconds. The others, though. They'd know he was gone; they'd have to. He was too hurt to run out on his own, and Vanya and Luther had seen that. Dave... Dave would know. Dave was probably already out there, looking for him. He hoped he wasn't alone.

"Can you manifest me, Klaus?" Ben asked, and Klaus' eyebrows drew together for a moment. Before he could try, however, there was the flick of a lighter, a smell of nicotine, and then a sharp pain as a cigarette was put out on his shoulder. Klaus jumped, his cry muffled by the tap holding his lips together, and the woman held it to his skin for several seconds before pulling it away. Klaus tipped his head back, eyes wide as he rode out the wave of pain that followed. There was a moment of silence before it was broken by the sound of the lighter once more and he had a second to brace himself before it happened again, the woman twisting the cigarette against his shoulder, holding it there for several long moments despite Klaus' wriggling. Then she pulled it back and flicked the cigarette away, leaving Klaus to splutter for air and try and calm himself down. 

He had to wonder who these people were. They had shown up to the academy, shot them up, done a number on them, kidnapped Klaus and revealed they wanted Five. Did Five know who they were? Why were a couple of assassins trying to find Five, who had just shown up out of the blue? He couldn't come up with a reasonable idea as to who these people could be or what they wanted out of them or Five. They hadn't done anything. 

He listened to the tapping of the woman's shoes as she wandered around the room. He could only tell that the man was still with them by the sound of his breathing and occasional shuffling. He didn't speak up much, not yet, and Klaus wasn't sure he wanted him to. His ribs still ached furiously at any small movements, but that was the least of his problems at the moment.

"Since you don't want to talk just yet," the woman spoke from behind him, and Klaus kept his face forwards, his shoulders tense. "We're going to break you in a little. Maybe after an hour or two you'll be a lot more talkative."

The woman became ruthless quickly. She surpassed some simple cigarette burns, turning this whole situation quickly into a nightmare. She hit him whenever he spoke and put all her weight behind a cable around his neck until his lips turned blue and he slumped in the seat. The man held his head back with a cloth over it as she poured water over his face, and if that wasn't effective enough, she ran the bath in the motel bathroom and the man held his head under the foot of water until he stopped struggling. She cut a line up the middle of his stomach up to his neck as she cut his shirt off, throwing the rags aside, and she danced the blade across his skin and let blood run down. The man hit him with enough force that his ears rang and blood trickled down the side of his face and he didn't need sight to know the room was spinning and swaying like a dreidel. They filled the kettle with water, let it boil, and poured it over his skin while the other one held a cloth into his mouth to muffle his screams. As he screamed, ghosts joined in. One by one it seemed like the room filled with more and more ghosts, silently seething at their murderers and telling Klaus their stories in languages he didn't understand, but death had always lifted the language barrier and he understood them anyway. 

The man, whom he came to know as Hazel, had a soft spot. Cha-Cha, the woman, did not. However, he doubted Hazel did at all, not when they began to talk about the others in the academy. 

They crashed the chandelier on Luther. That had been the noise he had heard. He knew Luther was a big guy, that he was strong, but could he simply walk away from the huge chandelier crashing down on him? 

"There was this one guy," Hazel had drawled from behind him, "upstairs. Looked like he'd been crying. Might have been a veteran, or something. Saw some dog tags."

Klaus had tensed like a board, facing him with wide eyes, moaning "Dave, Dave, Dave" behind the sticky gag over his mouth.

"That his name?" Hazel had mused thoughtfully, and Klaus threw care to the wind. He had taunted them before, managed to rile them up by calling them idiots and dickheads and telling them where they could shove their garrotte, but he threw that aside for pleading.

"Don't hurt him?" Cha-Cha echoed, and then she blew out a breath. "Too late for that, buddy. He got in my way. What was I supposed to do? I'm sure you understand. And hey, he's still there. The others probably found him and if you're lucky and they find you, you can have a joint funeral."

Klaus felt horror wash over him, his heart stammering. He shook his head wildly, refusing the idea of any harm coming to Dave as his lungs tightened.

"If it makes you feel any better," the woman commented, "it was a quick bullet to the head."

Klaus screwed his eyes shut against the onslaught of tears. Was Dave one of the ghosts around him? Simply unable to talk to him because his jaw had been blown off? He couldn't breathe. His lungs ignored the need for oxygen and all he could do was double over in pain. They'd killed enough people that they wouldn't have let Dave go. Of course not. And Klaus hadn't been there to do something to protect him. He felt sick, swallowing rapidly against the rising bile in his throat between his anguished yells. He felt worse than he had when he'd almost drowned, or when Cha-Cha's belt buckle tore the skin on his back or when Hazel's fist landed on the same spot he'd hit earlier in the academy and he'd almost thrown up from the pain. 

"They're lying," Ben told him. "Dave's fine, Klaus. They're lying."

But how could Ben know? He'd shown up quickly and not left his side since. He didn't know that. He was simply trying to keep Klaus' composure together. But did it matter? They were going to kill him soon enough and they'd already killed Dave. 

He gagged and one of them pulled the tape off and he felt the trash can be shoved up against his leg in time for him to throw up to his side, and he spluttered for air. 

"No," he moaned, digging his nails into the seat and hanging his head. "Please, no. No, no, no, no."

It was his fault. He'd told Dave to come to the academy, he'd told Dave to stay there, he'd left Dave, knowing he was vulnerable in that moment. It was his fault. He was probably choking on his own blood, jaw hanging low, half-attached, somewhere in this room. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, please."

"Shut him up," groaned Cha-Cha, standing up and he flinched away from her, hysteria rising. "Look, he ain't gonna help anymore. He said some shit about a lab; let's check that out. Shove him in the closet and shoot him or something." She gathered her things, shoes clicking on the floor. "Be quick about it."

He felt the chair being pulled back and he weakly swung his head, incoherently mumbling pleas. He heard Cha-Cha leave, the front door slamming shut, and he heard Hazel huff as he pulled him into the closet.

"Please," he moaned, tears rapidly running down his cheeks. He didn't know what he was asking for at this point; for him to shoot him already? To not shoot him? To tell him this was all a lie? 

As a ghost, would he be able to see? Ben managed to heal, or at least cover, his injuries after death. Maybe Dave could too. Maybe he would be able to. Maybe he could, finally, see Dave with his own eyes.

"Please," he muttered, quieter. "Just do it."

He heard the click of a gun accompany Hazel's heavy breathing. Then a quiet bang.

The bullet grazed his shoulder and thudded into the wall behind him. Hazel lingered for a moment. "I'm sorry," the man murmured, and then the closet doors thudded closed, followed by the front door, 'do not disturb' sign scraping against it from outside. 

Klaus hung his head and sobbed. 

He hadn't been in the army for years now, and yet he still couldn't shake the memories of his time there. One moment he was reading some random book to Klaus who he was positive had fallen asleep in his lap, the next he heard gunshots and he was back in Afghanistan. Klaus, who rotated between waking up at a breeze outside or sleeping through a fire alarm, had began to wake up and he just had to encourage him awake because those gunshots sounded more real than they had in any flashback. And the worst thing was; they had been real, too. Or perhaps the worst thing had been that he had simply let Klaus run right into the fray. Could he help it, though? He could hardly keep his eyes open against the dust and sand in his vision, could hardly feel Klaus' thin shirt but instead an army jacket of another private. So he let Klaus go with the idea that Ben would be manifested, he'd take care of whatever was going on, and he'd be fine.

He should have known better, really.

He heard the noises downstairs calm down even if he still heard Tommy gasping for breath, blood warm on his hands. The bedroom door creaked open like the groan of a heavy MRAP door and Dave blinked his red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes clear of dust to try and make his way back to Klaus' bedroom. When he looked up, one hand clamped over his ear, the other clutching his dog tags like his life depended on them, a man with a blue mask stared back at him. His knuckles were red and bloody, his suit untidy, and Dave realised Ben hadn't 'taken care' of the intruders.

"Don't hurt him," he blurted in a hoarse voice, throat dry from the Afghanistan heat. "Please."

The man had lingered in the doorway, bear mask staring at him blankly. Then he had closed the door and left. 

It had taken him a while longer to compose himself enough to realise that Klaus hadn't come back. He forced himself to his feet, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, and he staggered out of the bedroom and downstairs. He could hear Vanya and Allison in the living room, but Diego was heading to the front door. 

"Diego," he called, clearing his throat and hurrying down the last few steps and to his side. Diego looked... rough, to say the least. Eyes watery and nose running. He sniffed furiously as he turned to face Dave, blinking quickly and trying to rapidly compose himself.

"Dave," he grunted in greeting, and Dave let his eyes bounce around the room.

"Have you seen Klaus? He came down to help with everything with Ben," he stated hopefully, and Diego raised an eyebrow.

"I've not," he told him with the shake of his head, and Dave's shoulders slumped. "He runs off a lot, Dave. You shouldn't worry about it."

Dave shook his head. "No, he doesn't. Not anymore."

He heard the living room doors open and both he and Diego turned to look at Vanya, quietly stepping out of the living room. She looked between the two of them.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her voice hesitant. Diego nodded shortly and looked away.

"Have you seen Klaus?" Dave asked instead, taking a step towards her. She raised an eyebrow, fingers fiddling with the hem of her sleeves.

"He was here earlier. I think he tried to, uh... manifest Ben, but it didn't work." Her eyes flicked to the foyer door. "He got hurt. I thought he'd made his way outside or upstairs. I've not seen him since."

Dave pressed his lips together, dread churning in his stomach. Klaus couldn't manifest Ben. Klaus was hurt. Klaus was gone. 

"They have him," he stated, and as he began to look around the room for his jacket Klaus had hung up somewhere, his eyes fell upon something. Shattered glass, bent frames. Klaus would, evidently, rather try to fend off insane, gun-wielding assassins with nothing but his fists over revealing his lack of sight to his family. He would have came back to Dave. If he was outside, he would have phoned Dave.

"Dave," Diego said, but he hesitated when Dave turned to look at him, jaw set and serious. He let out a sigh, shuffling on the spot. "Come with me."

"Where are you going?" Vanya asked, taking a step after them. Diego didn't look back. 

"Well, we need to find Klaus. And Five - they said that's why they were here. Tell Luther to put a shirt on and get his ass out there looking for Five, yeah? Dave, you're with me. I... I need to talk to someone, but she might be able to help."

Dave didn't understand what he meant by that but he nodded nonetheless, eager to follow him out and to his car. He slid into the passengers seat, watching Diego clutch the wheel tightly and drive with a locked jaw and cold eyes. He was silent for a while before finally speaking up.

"You really think they have Klaus?" He asked, and Dave nodded.

"He doesn't run off anymore," he stated confidently, watching buildings fly past them. "And he wouldn't have left if he was hurt. If he had, he would have phoned me."

Diego's eyes briefly flicked back to Dave, lingering on him for a moment before returning to watching the road. "They might've taken him to try and find Five," he said, and Dave nodded. It made sense. It didn't seem like they were above kidnapping someone for information, even if Klaus had nothing to tell them.

"You're good for him," said Diego, and Dave's lips curled upwards slightly.

"He's good for me," he corrected. Diego glanced at him, eyebrow raised, and Dave simply shrugged. While he had helped Klaus with plenty of things in his life, he could say the same thing for Klaus helping him. 

Diego drove until he reached a nice house deeper into the city and he pulled into an empty space in the drive way. As they both clambered out of the car, he turned to Dave.

"Wait in the car for a moment?" He requested awkwardly. Dave raised his eyebrows but he shook off the urge to tell Diego to hurry up, that they didn't have time for this, and he nodded, sliding back inside. He watched Diego pace up the stairs for a moment, hesitate by the door, and eventually he sat down on the porch to the house. Dave's leg bounced anxiously, fingers drumming on his knee, and he forced himself to be patient until the door opened and a dark-haired woman stepped outside and seemed to simply sigh at the sight of Diego. He couldn't hear them as they spoke but her face softened at one point and she reached out to put her hand on Diego's shoulder. Diego blinked furiously, staring at the floor between his feet. Then he swallowed and waved to Dave sitting in the car. A few minutes later and they were heading to Diego's car, the woman sliding into the backseats.

"Dave, Detective Patch. Patch, Dave," the man greeted briefly. Dave offered the woman a small smile and she returned it, offering her hand which he took.

"So," Patch said, glancing between them. "What's first, Diego?" 

Diego started up his car, and then pressed his lips together. "Luther should be looking for Five," he muttered thoughtfully. "We need to find those psychos that shot us up. They probably have Klaus, and they'll probably be looking for Five as well," he stated, and then gripped the steering wheel tighter. "I don't know where they could be," he admitted tensely.

"They couldn't have gone far," said Dave. "Not if they're looking for Five, right? They'll want to be able to find out quickly if he comes back to the academy. They won't want to draw attention to themselves."

Patch seemed to agree with him, bobbing her head. "He's right. If they just... kidnapped Klaus, the chances are they're still with him, and close. If we can't find him in a few hours, then... I say we go find Five instead. He might know who they are or where they might be, or they might leave a trail."

Dave didn't like the idea of leaving Klaus in their clutches for longer than necessary, but he understood where the detective was coming for. Diego did as well, nodding his head.

"Check out some empty buildings?" He suggested. "Some motels? Apartments?"

"That's as good as we've got," said Patch, and Diego changed his route to go to the nearest building.

They checked out several places. Apartments that were for sale but still empty, they asked in hotels if two or three people had just checked in, they asked shop owners if they had seen a man and a woman in a suit with a man with hand tattoos and a pink skirt following them. They eyed motel windows as they drove past and they even checked in on some storage units and warehouses. As each minute and then hour ticked away, Dave became increasingly more panicked, dread coiling in his stomach. Would they ever find him again? What kind of state would he be in? 

Eventually, Diego left.

"Look, Luther's out looking for Five. It's the best lead we've got at the moment, so I'll go meet him and try and get something out of Five. You two keep looking for Klaus. Phone the gym if you find him, or I'll phone you, yeah?"

Dave simply nodded, eager to continue the search, and after warning him to be safe, Patch let him go too. Diego drove them back to her house and they switched out to Patch's small car, and then they headed back out. 

"His name sounds familiar," she commented without Diego around, and Dave raised an eyebrow. But she was with the police force and Klaus had told Dave about most - not all - of his past. Dave let out a small snort. 

"He's had a few, uh... run ins with the law before," he replied, fingers drumming on his thigh as he eyed the window of a for sale apartment. "Drug stuff, mainly. Maybe you saw him before," he shrugged.

Patch inclined her head thoughtfully, turning a corner. "Maybe," she muttered. 

Dave's eyes narrowed at something. "Wait," he said, sitting up. "Stop - stop the car." He leaned closer to the window, eyes narrowed as he watched a pair of people standing by a van. Patch startled slightly but managed to at least slow down, raising an eyebrow at him.

"What is it?"

"That's them," he muttered. "That's them." 

They were talking beside a van and as Patch drove further a little, he could read that they'd scratched something into the window.

WE HAVE YOUR BROTHER.

His stomach sank, but he forced himself to be hopeful. 

"Shit, alright," murmured Patch.

"They're... they're going inside that lab," he muttered, watching them. He tried to ignore the large guns on their backs, the sickening masks obscuring their faces. 

"Stay in the car." Patch pulled the car over a little while away, waiting until she was sure the duo had disappeared inside and then she opened the door and slid outside. Dave's throat felt tight, body on edge and just screaming to do something. He watched Patch run across the road to the defaced van, using heir phone's torch to light it up. She lifted up one of the windshield wipers, picked up a piece of paper, and then hurried back to the car. She held up a small leaflet; advertising a motel with the number '14' on it.

"Let's go," urged Dave, eyes wide. Patch pressed her lips together and nodded, starting up the car.

"We go in, we get Klaus, we get out," she told him as they drove. "As quick as possible. Then we... we go back to my house. I'll phone Diego and if he's hurt, we'll deal with that at mine."

Dave nodded. "Of course," he said, turning to look out the window and keep an eye open for the motel. "Of course. We get him out of there," he stated, nodding once more. 

The drive was quick and tense. Neither of them had any idea why the two of them had left Klaus there and went to the lab, but neither of them were particularly willing to dilly-dally and waste precious time. Dave repeated their three-step plan to himself like a mantra, eyes scrutinizing every building they passed until he sat up, eyes spotting it.

"Pull in left," he said, and Patch did. She led the way, pulling out both her badge and gun, just in case they were walking right into a trap, and they counted the rooms they passed. One, two, three... eleven, twelve, thirteen, and fourteen, a 'do not disturb' sign hanging off the door handle, the lights off and curtains closed. A maid was outside, just leaving room fifteen, and with a flash of her badge and a gesture to room fourteen's door, Patch had gotten the key to the door.

The room had obviously been used. Empty donut bag around, a receipt (that Patch took with wide eyes), blood stains on the floor and a trash can with vomit in and around it. And, more importantly, not-so-quiet sobbing and mumbling from the closet. Dave all but ran to the closet, throwing the doors open and instantly, his eyes fell on Klaus. Klaus, who flinched away from him, who was covered in blood and tears and muttering incoherent pleads. 

"Oh, Klaus," Dave gasped, resting his hands on Klaus' and the bonds on his wrists. Klaus' face snapped up, stormy eyes staring blankly at Dave. 

"D - Dave?" He stammered, eyes wide. Then his face screwed up and his lip quivered and he turned away. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please."

Dave raised his eyebrows at his rambling. "Klaus, baby, it's alright, it's alright." His hands hovered over Klaus, unsure of anywhere he could touch him that wouldn't hurt him. He noticed the bullet hole behind his shoulder and the graze from the bullet seemed to be the most recent wound, still bleeding. "Me and Patch - Detective Path - we're gonna get you out of here."

The woman was hovering over his shoulder, swapping her gun out with a piece of smashed glass that she used to cut through the tape on his wrists. He reached out, one hand gripping Eudora, the other gripping Dave, still babbling incoherently. 

"My name's Detective Patch," she told him softly, one hand on his elbow urging him to his feet, "me and Dave are here. You're alright, Klaus. Come on, let's go. We're going to get you to my car and we're going to leave," she said, walking him through everything. Dave wrapped an arm around Klaus' waist, supporting his shaking legs as the three of them rushed out the room and back to Patch's car. Klaus, for the most part, was hardly responsive, limping along with a tight, almost bruising grip on the two of them, shaking like a leaf.

Dave guided him into the back seat while Patch sat back down in the drivers seat, hurrying to drive them out of the motel. Seemingly safe, Dave turned his attention to Klaus, who was gripping tightly onto himself and wheezing for air through his gritted teeth. 

"Klaus," Dave murmured softly, hands reaching out to cup his bruised face and turn it towards him. "You're safe now. You're safe. We're going to fix you up, yeah? You with me?" 

Klaus blinked at him, triggering another tear to follow the tracks down his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he whispered, voice trembling. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for, Klaus? Don't be sorry," Dave told him, eyebrows drawing together.

"They killed you," he whispered, head drooping down. "You're dead."

Dave's lips parted into a small 'o' and he frowned. "Baby, they didn't kill me," he said, "they didn't touch me. Look, feel," he brought Klaus' shaking hand to his neck and pressing his fingers to his pulse in his neck. "Ghosts don't have pulses. And I can't see Ben; it's not your powers. I'm alive."

Klaus closed his eyes, curling his hand around his neck and leaning forwards to press his forehead against his shoulder. His own shoulders were high and tense, trembling softly in time to his shaky breaths, and Dave held him close, eying where to put his hands among the littering of gashes on his bare back. "It's okay," he murmured. "You're okay. You're safe, Klaus."

Getting him up the stairs to her house was hard, but between herself and Dave, they managed to do it. Eudora led the two men into her living room and let them sit down while she fished out her phone and the first aid kit from her kitchen. She racked her memory for Diego's gym's phone number and punched it into her phone, her foot anxiously tapping against the tiled floor until it, finally, picked up.

"Eudora?" Diego asked, and she grimaced at the way her name rolled off his tongue. She decided that they had more important things to focus on, however, and moved past it this once.

"We have him," she stated. "Klaus. We're at my house. Get here, Diego. Now." 

Diego hesitated a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, give me ten minutes."

Eudora hung up on him, putting her phone down on the kitchen table and taking in a deep breath. She wasn't qualified for dealing with this stuff. Nonetheless, she picked up the first aid kit once more and returned to the living room.

Klaus looked like hell. There were numerous wounds from different injuries littering his torso and arms, up to his neck and cheeks. She wasn't sure where to start but eventually decided on his still-bleeding shoulder.

"I know some first aid," Dave said, reaching for some stuff from the kit. "I can help."

She simply nodded, not about to turn down his offered help with this. Klaus had calmed down considerably from when they first got him although he still flinched and hissed whenever either of them touched him, and he shook like he was freezing cold. He was, too, but she wasn't about to cover his open wounds with a blanket before she got them cleaned and covered.

She had commented on his name sounding familiar to her earlier, and he certainly was now. She didn't think the outrageous fashion choices, the horrible hand tattoos and stormy eyes would leave her memory for quite some time. The first time she'd met him, he was too high to remember his own name and had stolen from some convenience store. The last time she'd seen him he'd been on the floor in his underwear, high and crying in pain, hands clamped over his eyes. 

She shook off the memories and returned to the task at hand. 

They'd put the last bandage over the last gash on his back when the door opened, because Diego had never heard of a doorbell or knocking.

"Eudora," he called, rushing into her living room. "Is he -" his sentence cut off as his eyes fell onto Klaus, bandaged and staring blindly ahead, clinging to Dave's hand. "Klaus," he breathed, hurrying to crouch in front of him, resting a hand on Klaus' knee and looking him up and down. Klaus looked... defeated, slumping in on himself and offering a tired smile.

"Hey, Diego," he croaked, and Eudora glanced at the empty glass of water she'd given him. 

"W - what did they do to you?" He asked, muttering under his breath. And then he looked at him and raised his eyebrows, hands going up to firmly cup his face. Klaus grimaced, leaning back slightly. "What did they do to your eyes? Can you - can you see?"

Eudora shared an awkward look with Dave. So it seemed Klaus hadn't told anyone. 

Klaus let out a small laugh, looking away. "It's, uh..."

"Can you see?" Diego insisted.

Klaus pursed his lips together, eyes flicking to the thin air beside him. "About that... uh, no," he murmured, "but they - they didn't do it!" He blurted, and Diego's eyebrows rose to his hairline.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked, voice bordering on cold. Klaus grimaced, seeming to regret saying that. He raised a hand up to pry Diego's off his face.

"Uh... surprise," he offered weakly. "I had to get sober somehow, am I right?" He nudged Diego's shoulder, one eyebrow raised, and Diego looked between Dave and Eudora. 

"Klaus," Diego said, voice low, "what the fuck?"

Klaus sighed, waving a hand. "Look, look. I'll tell you. Not everyone's a nice person on drugs, y'know? I got it into a little argument with some guy, he was high - I was high - it was wonderful. He got pissed, I got pissed, he got violent. Chuck in some strong cleaner chemical shit, and... here I am!" He offered a wobbly, weak grin, and then pointed to Eudora. Or, two feet to her left. "Actually," he said, turning to face her. "Dear detective, I thought your name was familiar."

Eudora grimaced, shifting on the spot and avoiding Diego's questioning gaze. "He's putting it lightly," she muttered. Very lightly.

It had been a domestic abuse call, or so they had assumed. Someone phoned in complaining of yelling and fighting coming from their neighbour. Possible drug use, she added. It hadn't seemed too serious. Eudora and a couple other officers got ready for the call and they'd headed there, half way there really, when they got the call to hurry it up. The yelling had turned to screaming, and when they reached the apartment, she could hear the screaming from the hallway.

They'd had to knock down the door. The apartment was small and in a bad area of town and when they went in, it smelled like weed, booze, cigarette smoke and sex. One man - Austin Sharp - had been pacing the apartment, slightly high and half-naked. He hadn't fought as police brought him out; only requested to put on clothes, which they allowed, and then they left. They realised later that he had been arrested once before, changing his name after getting out of prison, and he'd come to change his name again the day he got out.

The other man, the source of the horrific screams, had been on the kitchen floor in only a pair of rainbow leopard print boxers. He had stopped screaming since they came in and Eudora was the first person to his side. He had been familiar, known from when she'd arrested him for similar drug charges before. There was some bottle of some kind of drain cleaner or something similar - she hadn't paid much attention to it, then, nor had she paid much attention to the rest of the case after the arrests and knowing the victim hadn't died. She wasn't a paramedic either, and she couldn't offer any help other than reassurance. She could have guessed it would have been bad simply from the two words; chemicals, eyes. If that didn't give it away, the screaming, sobbing and exposed peeling skin might have. He had hardly listened to her, writhing on the floor with his hands clamped over his eyes and speaking incoherently. She only caught snippets of what he said; pleads for it to stop, panicked moans, pleads for someone named Ben to help him, the fear of his eyes being damaged. He'd been whisked away by paramedics almost immediately, and someone else had followed up with him. Eudora hadn't necessarily wanted to follow it up herself; hadn't wanted to see someone's life being stripped away from them so harshly. 

She'd never seen him again after that.

"Ah, so it was you!" Klaus said, and Eudora's stomach twisted. Now she'd thought about it, she couldn't get that image out of her head.

"What's he talking about?" Diego snapped, hand tight on Klaus' knee although he didn't comment on it.

Eudora sighed. "I got called to the scene," she stated. "He got attacked. I arrested the guy who did it."

Klaus threw her a grin before slumping against her couch. "Look, it's in the past. You know what's not in the past? Hazel broke my fucking ribs. Shut up, Ben. So, can we please focus on this?" 

Eudora wondered who Ben was. She remembered Klaus asking a Ben to help him during the incident, even if only she had been beside him. Even now, there was no one named Ben. She wondered if it was a support thing or a mental thing. It wasn't unusual for addicts to suffer some mental or psychological damage, even recovered ones. She cringed at the idea of him, possibly at his lowest moment in life, and the only thing he had to support him was a hallucination.

"K - Klaus," stammered Diego, closing his eyes. "You're blind."

"And I'm used to it! Ben and Dave look out for me, I can basically see."

"The fucking cane and glasses."

"Oh, yeah. Hazel broke my glasses too. Are they dead? He was supposed to kill me. He purposely missed. I still hate him," Klaus rambled, fingers flexing over his stomach. 

"You need to rest," Eudora stated. "You're in no state to be doing anything other than resting."

Klaus pointed at her. "I agree. I'm fucking exhausted. Rightfully so. Dave, let's go home." He heaved himself to his feet, only for the sudden motion and exertion to exhaust him. His knees buckled and his eyes rolled back, and both Dave and Diego lunged to catch him as he fell like a ragdoll. They lowered him back to the couch, holding him up as he doubled over limply, and Diego ran a hand down his face. He turned to Eudora.

"Thank you," he said quietly, and Eudora simply nodded. 

"Get him home. And don't be too mad about it," she told him, and Diego held her gaze for several moments. The vulnerability there in his eyes took her for a moment, made her cheeks warm, and she forced herself to look away. There was a reason she had broken them off. "Make sure he drinks a lot. I'll tell you if I hear anything about those two."

Diego nodded once more and, with Dave's help, the two managed to lift Klaus up. She saw them out and to their car and she lingered there for a moment after they had driven away. Then, with a heavy sigh, she walked back inside. 

Chapter Text

"How is he?" Diego spared a glance to the two of them in the backseat of his car. Bless Eudora; she had done a good job patching Klaus' wounds up. He was grateful for that, especially now when he looked so pale and thin and weak. He was almost glad the worst injuries were covered up. He was sprawled out across the backseat at an awkward angle, upper body laying across Dave's lap. Dave was running his hand through his damp hair, combing it out of his face. He still looked tense, though more in a guilty way. He glanced up, catching Diego's eye in the rear view mirror.

"He's still out," he said softly. "I think he'll be out of it for a while. They... they roughed him up." His eyes turned back down to Klaus and Diego forced himself to pay attention to the road. His grip was tight on the driving wheel, short nails digging into the leather. They had taken too long to find him but he forced himself to be happy that they did find him in one piece. He was almost disappointed in himself for being ready to brush it off as Klaus just running off again. He hadn't been sure about Dave when Klaus first introduced him to him, but his brother was sober and happy and Dave wasn't an addict, or a bad influence, or a person with bad motives. He had been ready to leave the moment he realised Klaus was gone.

"Did you... know?" He asked, voice rough. Dave pressed his lips together in a thin line, eyes lingering on Klaus' face, the bruise on his jaw, the scarring around his eyes.

"Yes," he said, "and I told him to tell you all, but... you know how Klaus is. At first I didn't know; I work in a bookstore, and he'd come in sometimes and read a book."

"Ben," Diego uttered, and Dave laughed softly, nodding.

"Ben. He doesn't like people knowing unless they have to."

Dave ran his hand down his face, swallowing over the lump in his throat. "He got attacked," he stated. Had he gotten a call from the hospital? It certainly wouldn't have been the first time any of them, specially Diego, had been phoned because Klaus was in the hospital. At some point, though, everyone had stopped picking up the phone or stopped going. None of them had wanted to see him continue to destroy himself. Had Diego gotten a call from the hospital and ignored it because he thought Klaus had just gone too far at a party? 

"He went to the academy after it, I think," Dave said, breaking him from his thoughts. "I think Pogo apparently kept tabs on each hospital visit, just in case, and when it was serious they brought him back. He doesn't really like to talk about it, so I'm not sure."

Diego ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. "D'you know who did it?" He asked, and Dave raised an eyebrow.

"He's in jail," he stated.

"And his name?"

Dave shook his head. "I don't know."

Diego grit his teeth, glaring at the road. It was hard to wrap his mind around. His brother, Klaus, was blind. He'd managed to hide it from them all for several days, too. No doubt Ben had helped him with it. Someone had purposely blinded Klaus. Klaus, who he considered their youngest sibling, had been held down and had some mix of chemicals poured over his face and into his eyes. It makes his stomach cramp and churn. 

"It's his choice, Diego," Dave stated, and he turned to the brunette.

"What?"

"It's his choice whether or not he tells anyone or whether or not he talks about it. And there's nothing anyone else could do if he decides not to talk about it to anyone. Just... take some time to think about it yourself before he wakes up. What's more important right now is the fact that he just got kidnapped and..." He trails off, eyes dropping to Klaus' twitching form on the backseat. Right. He turned back to the road with a small nod, and he continued the fast drive back to the academy.

Once he's parked both he and Dave hurried to get out of the car and carry Klaus inside between the two of them. Klaus had always been skinny, but for a man of his height he's worryingly light in his grasp, too easy for him and Dave to carry inside if not for the extreme care to not jostle him and his injuries. He isn't sure where everyone is; Luther might still be at his apartment with Five, or he might have decided to bring Five back to the academy, and he has no idea where his sisters are, either; if they've stuck around or left as well. They managed to carry Klaus up the stairs and to his own bedroom before settling him into his bed, his head lolling limply on his pillow. 

"What did they do to him?" Diego asked quietly, and he slumped into the seat by his desk while Dave perched himself on the edge of Klaus' bed. Dave pressed his lips into a tight line.

"A lot," he said with a heavy sigh. "He said some stuff, but not all of it. Some of it's obvious." He gestured to small, perfectly round burns on his skin. "He thought I was dead when I spoke to him first. It took him a while to calm down."

Diego ran a hand down his face, propping his chin up on his jaw and looking at his brother. "Fuck," he muttered, shaking his head and dropping his face into his hands. He would have just assumed that Klaus had ran off like he always does. What would have happened if Dave wasn't here? Would Klaus still be with those psychos at this moment? Hurt way worse? 

"How do you... deal with it?" He asked, turning to look at Dave. "Him being... blind?"

Dave let out a small laugh, watching his fingers card through Klaus' damp curls. "Well, I've only ever known him blind," he stated. "It'll be harder for you lot, considering you're not used to it. But..." Dave shrugged, eyes flicking up to Diego's. "Just treat him like normal. He ain't any different. I'm sure he's always been a clumsy bastard, eh?" He quirked an eyebrow up and Diego snorted. Klaus always resembled a new born deer, as if he wasn't used to his long limbs and height. 

"Yeah. He has."

A groan on the bed caught their attention, pulling both their gazes towards Klaus. His eyebrows drew together, furrowing, and then he shot up, trying to wriggle away from Dave's hand.

"Hey, hey," the man said softly, moving his hand from his head to his leg, "it's okay, Klaus. Take a breath. You're alright, darlin', you're alright."

Klaus' eyes flicked in Dave's direction and his shoulders slumped, a shuddery breath leaving his lips. Dave smiled encouragingly, moving his hand back to his hair and pushing it from his face. Klaus leaned into the touch, staring straight ahead. 

"Sorry," he uttered, and Dave scoffed.

"Don't be."

"He knows." Klaus looked defeated, wrapping one arm along his bruised stomach. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Diego. He knows about my whole..." he waved a hand at his face. "Thing. I made a bet with Ben that no one would."

Dave's eyes flicked to Diego. He raised an eyebrow and Diego hesitated.

"Well, looks like you lost that bet," he said, and Klaus jumped. He hissed, slapping Dave's shoulder. 

"You bastard, you're supposed to tell me if we're alone!" 

Dave laughed, wrapping his arm around Klaus' shoulders and squeezing his arm. "I knew you'd find out eventually," he hummed. Klaus snorted, then turned to Diego.

"Uh... hi."

Diego scoffed. "Hey. How are you feeling?" 

Klaus groaned, stretching slightly. "Have we got painkillers?" He asked, jutting his bottom lip out. 

"I'll get you some soon."

Klaus groaned but nodded, and he rested his head back on Dave's shoulder. "So," he said, "bring on the questions, knife boy. I'm sure you've got plenty about the elephant in the room."

Diego raised his eyebrows slightly, and yes, he did. He had plenty of questions. Tons of questions. But he bit his tongue. "I'll only talk about it if you want to," he said, clasping his hands together on his lap. Klaus looked shocked at that, eyebrows raising and his cheeks heating up slightly.

"Oh," he murmured, "well... thanks, bro." He reached his fist out and nodded his head towards it. Diego rolled his eyes but only hesitated a moment before leaning forwards to fist bump his brother. Klaus' chapped lips spread his pale face in a grin and Diego's eyes linger on Klaus'. He's staring right at him, but right through him, glossy and milky and stormy and bloodshot. Diego waved his hand in front of his face and Klaus blinked, tilting his head to the side minutely.

"I'll go get you some painkillers," he offered, clapping his hand on his knee and standing up. Klaus' eyes followed him slightly though don't move up when he stood.

"I'd appreciate that," he commented with a soft smile, and Diego watched him slump into Dave's side as he left the room, shoes clicking as he made his way downstairs. His eyes landed on the opening door, watching as Luther nudged it open with his foot, Five still unconscious in his arms. He hesitated when he saw Diego but inclined his head in agreement.

"Hey," he said softly. 

"How is he?" Diego asked. 

"He woke up for a while on the way here, threw up again, and passed out again," Luther said with mild amusement in his voice, and Diego's lips curled up slightly as he looked at Five. He had that mannequin with him, balanced on his stomach, one hand splayed out on its back. 

"Lovely." Diego stuffed his hands into his pockets, gaze flicking over to the kitchen. 

"Did you get Klaus?" Luther asked hesitantly, shifting his grip on Five. 

"He's upstairs with Dave. They found him with those two psychos... roughed him up a bit. I'm getting him painkillers."

Luther nodded his head, pressing his lips together in a line. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, toying with his words. Diego raised his eyebrows, urging him to spit it out already, and Luther heaved a sigh. "Do you think that's a good idea?" He asked quietly. 

Diego's eyebrows drew together. "He's in pain, Luther," he stated, "he's all bandaged up. I think the least he deserves is some water and painkillers."

Luther shifted, eyes darting around. "I just don't think we should be... giving him any temptations," he worded slowly, and Diego ran his tongue along his teeth.

"He's sober," he said firmly. "He has been for a while."

"Diego, you've seen him since he's arrived. He wore those sunglasses outside, at night, while it was raining, and he knocks into things and mutters to himself. Maybe it's alcohol rather than drugs, but he's clearly not sober."

Diego pressed his lips together, shaking his head. Disbelief coiled around his ribs and he scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. "He's clean," he stressed.

Luther raised his eyebrows, looking sceptical. "Diego... I know you want to believe Klaus, but he's lied about this before."

"He's not high, Luther, he's fucking -!" The words tumbled out of his lips before he could stop them and he almost slapped a hand over his mouth before he managed to catch himself, halting abruptly. Luther pursed his lips. 

"He's what, Diego?" He asked, voice low as he shifted his grip on Five. Diego stuffed his hands into his pockets and took a few steps towards the kitchen only for Luther to hurry after him and block his path. "Talk to me, Diego. What is he?"

"None of your business," Diego retorted, running his tongue along his teeth in frustration. It was hard not to say, however. The weight of Klaus' secret was heavy on his shoulders, and he felt like he was mourning a part of Klaus. How was he supposed to not tell their family that he had been attacked and blinded? They deserved to know as much as Klaus deserved to tell them in his own time. Diego sighed, shaking his head.

"Diego -" Luther reached out with one hand and Five jolted awake with a gasp, one hand fisting in Luther's shirt to catch himself from the sudden throw of his balance. Luther hurried to fix his hold on their brother and Five glared between the two of them.

"What're you talkin' 'bout?" He asked, letting out a huff as he tried to rearrange himself in Luther's arms. 

"Klaus," Luther stated distantly, and Five hummed.

"Hmph. He's an idiot."

Diego snorted, shaking his head minutely.

"I... know... everything." He punctuated each word slowly, his eyebrows drawing together as he stared at the ceiling far above them. "I'm a genius. 'been to the future."

"Take him to his bedroom," Diego said dismissively, waving a hand towards the staircase and skirting around Luther and an obviously still-out-of-it Five to get into the kitchen. He poured a glass of water and then rummaged around in the cupboards until he found the little tub full of different kinds of medications. He pulled out a packet of ibuprofen, grabbed the water, and headed back upstairs. Luther was peering into Klaus' bedroom and Diego sighed.

"Leave him alone, Luther," he called, nudging his back. He spared a glance into the bedroom, almost paranoid that Klaus would be staring at them and would be showing off what Diego had almost blurted out, but when he looked, Klaus' face was hidden in Dave's lap, only the back of his head and his bandaged back on show. 

"He's asleep right now," said Dave, voice quiet. "If you want to talk to him, you can wait until he wakes up. He needs to rest." 

Diego slid inside, squeezing past Luther, and he set the water and painkillers on the desk beside Klaus' bed. Luther eyed Klaus for a moment before inclining his head.

"Alright," he muttered, unsatisfied, but he turned back nonetheless. When his footsteps retreated and Luther's bedroom door closed and Diego closed Klaus' bedroom door, his brother groaned and sat up.

"He gone?" He asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly even if he hadn't actually been asleep. 

"He's gone," Diego confirmed with a snort. "I got you water and some painkillers. It's not the strongest we have, but mom can get you more if you need them."

Klaus waved a hand before holding both out expectantly, and it took Diego a moment to realise what he was waiting for. He swallowed, picking up the glass and pills and handing them to Klaus. He balanced the glass between his legs, popping four pills into his hand. 

"Uh, you're only supposed to take two, Klaus," he said softly, and Klaus snorted.

"Two won't hit me. I'm still clean, Diego, but I'm fucking sore." And with that, Klaus threw back the pills, chasing them down with water. He sighed, then held the glass and pack of painkillers out, raising his eyebrows. Diego sighed and took them from him, setting them back on the desk.

"Is that Luther onto me, then?" Klaus asked, and he returned to his position of being sprawled out across his bed in a feat that was almost impressive with how long his legs are. His head fell onto Dave's thighs and he reached out until he found Dave's arm and his hand travelled down, picking Dave's wrist up and setting his hand on his head. Much like a cat, Diego thought, but probably more of a dog because Klaus wasn't graceful or sly or subtle when asking for attention, evidently.

"I mean, he thinks you're an alcoholic."

"I am."

"Klaus."

"Okay, okay. I was."

Diego rolled his eyes at the smug smirk that pulled Klaus' lips upwards. "You won't be able to hide it forever," he stated softly. Klaus groaned, eyes fluttering closed. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. One would think I could, but now three of you already know," he grumbled.

Diego raised an eyebrow. "Three of us?"

Klaus held up a hand. He put up one finger. "You." He put up another finger. "Ben." He put up a third finger. "Five."

"Five?"

"Yes, Five. You know, dear time traveller, genius know it all? Him? Yes, of course he knows."

"When did you tell him?"

Klaus laughed. "He told me. The other day, we were talking, he got pissed at my glasses, I slapped him, he hit Fernando - where the fuck is Fernando, by the way? - and was all 'I saw it in the future Klaus' and - yeah. Of course he knows."

Diego narrowed his eyes in thought, glancing to Dave who simply shrugged. "Uh... who's Fernando?"

Klaus pouted. "My cane. The lion on the cane, more specifically. I named her Fernando."

"Of course you did," muttered Diego, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Klaus, look... do you want to talk about it? Any of it - the Hazel and Cha-Cha thing, your sight, learning you could conjure Ben; anything?"

Klaus stiffened on the bed, eyes looking down as he pursed his lips. "And why would I do that?"

"It's a lot of things to go through," stated Diego. "And I get it if you just want to..." he made a motion that he realised Klaus couldn't see. "Let it out, or something." Diego wasn't what one may say, a very... emotional person. He had repressed a lot of his emotions or channelled it into anger and violence since their childhood, and only recently had he begun to entertain the idea that, just maybe, that wasn't the healthiest way to cope with the childhood trauma Reginald had dealt them all with. He didn't think he was any good at it, but he supposed it was always worth a try, especially now when Klaus, the most sober he'd been in over a decade, was laying carefully on his bed because he'd been kidnapped and tortured after violently having his sight stripped away from him. One might want to rant about it, he thought.

Klaus seemed to ponder the idea, mentally standing with bricks in his hands, ready to rebuild up the walls that had lowered as he relaxed. His eyes flicked to the side and he fingers scratched his jaw before he let out a sigh. 

"I mean, Hazel and Cha-Cha; it wasn't... nice. But they were supposed to kill me, and the guy said sorry and let me live, so... that's a bonus?" Klaus ran his hands roughly down his face and groaned. "I don't know how to talk about emotions, bro. And, actually, neither do you."

Diego rolled his eyes. "I'm trying here, bro."

Klaus held his hands up. "Alright, give me a moment, if we're really gonna have a moment here..." He shifted around to face Dave who smiled down at him. 

"I get the hint," the brunette said, and Klaus grinned, hauling himself off his legs. 

"There's coffee or hot chocolates or tea in the kitchen," Diego offered him. The veteran nodded his head.

"I guess I'll conveniently check them out now, then," he mused. He rested a hand on Klaus' shoulder and ducked down to press a chaste kiss to his cheek before heading to the door. He lingered, eyes on Diego before he seemed to nod in approval, and he left, closing the door gently behind him.

"He's good for you," Diego uttered, watching Klaus fiddle with the tangle of blankets around his legs until they were free.

"Yeah, he is." A small smile tugged Klaus' lips upwards and his fingers twirled a loose string absentmindedly. "I'm a lucky man."

Diego gave a soft laugh. He hesitated for a moment before getting up and sitting down on the bed next to Klaus. Klaus tipped his head in his direction.

"Don't say you're sorry," he said quickly, and Diego raised his eyebrows. "Every - everyone says they're sorry. I hate it. Don't do it."

"I won't, then," Diego responded. 

"Thanks."

"Are you... okay? About it?"

Klaus sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "I mean, no," he said, "but there's nothing I can do about it. It was... at first, it was hard. Like, I kept thinking if I rubbed my eyes enough, it'd fix it, or I'd go to sleep and wake up and it'd be fine. And it was fucked, 'cause in my dreams - at the beginning - I could still see. But I'd wake up and the doctors went on about how they tried their best, they're sorry, maybe a little bit might return eventually, but not enough to see, y'know? And they had me do some counselling shit while I was there," he waved his hands in a vague gesture, "to try and 'ease me into it', or something."

Diego nodded, but then reached out and set a hand on Klaus' knee. "And then I think Pogo caught word from the hospital, and I ended up back in home sweet home. And dad, he didn't - he didn't really care. I mean, of course he wouldn't, but still. I mean, he thought it was a shame, of course, 'cause it might fuck with my powers or whatever. Make them less useful if I couldn't see the ghosts." He swallowed, jaw clenching for a moment. "And then - it's kind of a funny story, actually, I promise!" He let out a hollow laugh, forcing a solemn grin onto his face and Diego cringed. Where Diego might channel his emotions into anger and exercise that burnt him out, Klaus channelled his into dark humour and drugs that made him numb. "I, uh, I actually tried to drown myself, once. Just the once! I think mom found me, or Pogo; whatever. I was just... how are you supposed to live without seeing a thing, Diego? I couldn't go down a set of stairs by myself. And pops didn't really care about me being blind, but The Séance, Number Four, being unable to see ghosts permanently."

Diego felt his throat tighten as Klaus rambled, chucking an odd chuckle here or there, trying to lighten the whole mood up and failing drastically. He squeezed Klaus' knee, watching his hands fly animatedly with nervous energy, eyes trained on the wall opposite them. 

"But, uh; now? It's whatever, I guess. Like, not good, maybe worse? I dunno. I hardly see things in dreams anymore. I don't know what Dave looks like - don't describe him, please. It's not the same - and, like, Five? I won't know what he looks like when he turns, like, twenty, or seventy, technically. But, like, it's been a year, eh. I guess I'm, uh, used to it now. Yeah, that's how I'd put it. I guess I don't have to see Ben's annoying face anymore, which is cool."

Diego watched Klaus as he rambled before abruptly coming to a stop and letting out a heavy sigh, flexing his hands over his thigh and toying with his bottom lip. Diego blinked a few times, trying to process everything he had just spit out. Then he reached out, forcing Klaus into a hug against his chest. His brother let out a huff as his chest hit Diego's and he blinked large, round eyes before reaching out to return the hug, gingerly patting Diego on the back. Unable to find any words, Diego simply hoped the rare hug would say what he couldn't quite verbally express. 

It was unfair, he thought. Utterly unfair. They all seemed to agree that Klaus was like the youngest sibling out of them all, with Vanya coming in close second, and even if they were all technically born at the same time, Klaus was his little brother. He remembered him as a child, naïve and innocent and simply pure. He'd always managed to make them all laugh, had always been unapologetically himself. He would sneak into their rooms at night to cheer them up if they were sad, and he had gotten into trouble plenty of times for speaking back to Reginald to draw his attention away from any of his siblings if he felt he was being too harsh on them. Klaus was goofy and clumsy and gullible and he was their little brother, and he'd lost over a decade to drugs, been haunted by ghosts in a way that Diego knew he'd never truly understand, been homeless, been kidnapped and tortured and blinded. 

"You - You're alright, now," Diego stated, as if saying that would convince Klaus to believe it as well. Or perhaps he was simply trying to convince himself instead. 

Klaus splayed his hand out across Diego's back, fingers running over the leather straps of his knife harness. "I am," he said. "I'm alright now, Di."

The hug lingered for several more moments before Diego pulled back, hand lingering on Klaus' arm before dropping to the bed between them. Klaus offered him a small smile. "I even got a rare Diego hug!" He said it teasingly, reaching out to nudge Diego with his elbow, and Diego snorted.

"Shut up," he grunted, and Klaus simply continued to prod his side, wiggling his eyebrows. 

"Say it. Say you love me, Di. I'm demanding you say it."

Diego tilted his head slightly, scoffing. "Shut up," he stressed sarcastically.

"C'mon! It'll be the perfect end to this big brotherly bonding session we just had!"

"Who said it was over?" 

Klaus raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips. "Well, uh... me. I did." 

Diego clapped a hand on his knee and stood up. "Then I better go."

Klaus whined, scratching his arm. "Aw, come on! Just one little 'I love you, my favourite brother.' I'll even accept it abbreviated into I-L-Y, Diego."

Diego stepped to the door, hand on the door knob, and he turned back to look at him over his shoulder, slouched in 'misery' on his messy bed. He rolled his eyes at his brother's ever dramatic antics and opened the door. "Yeah, whatever, alright. I love you, you insufferable bastard. Get some rest before you pass out again."

Klaus grinned stupidly in his direction. "Awww," he cooed, "Diego does love me!"

Diego snorted, rolling his eyes enough that he thought they might roll into another dimension. He turned to the hallway, watching Dave slowly approach with two mugs of what he assumed was hot chocolate, judging by the ridiculous pile of whipped cream on both. He almost looked like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He stepped aside, holding the door open for him. He couldn't help but watch as Dave slipped over, coaxing the hot chocolate into his hands.

"It's hot so be careful," he said softly, "but there's whipped cream on the top, like you like it." He set his own mug on the desk by his bed, one hand hovering over Klaus' in case he tipped it while they moved into a more comfortable position on his small bed, ending with Dave wrapping an arm around his torso, Klaus draping his legs over Dave's and melting into him while Dave pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"Try it," said Klaus, holding up his mug, and Dave raised an eyebrow but took it from his grip, immediately going for a sip only to jerk his head back.

"Shit! It's still hot. But good."

Klaus snickered softly, eyes fluttering closed. His free hand twirled the short hairs at Dave's nape around his fingers. "You just told me it'd be hot!" He stated with a laugh, and the two of them fell into childish snickering.

Diego closed the door as quietly as he could. Yes, Dave was good for Klaus, he thought. 

He turned, leaving the two together as he made his way to his own room to, finally, get some rest of his own.

Chapter Text

"I don't know. Go bug Diego, or something. He's still here, right? Ben, is the coast clear for me to leave and annoy Diego?"

Ben hummed thoughtfully, drifting towards the door. "Everyone's still asleep, Klaus. You woke up at an ungodly hour."

"Perfect!" Said Klaus, clapping his hands together. He turned to Dave. "Let's go annoy Diego for a pair of sunglasses. He's probably got some, right?" 

Dave reached out, hand drifting over Klaus' to slide them together. "Or," he said, "you could talk to your family."

Klaus' face screwed up in disgust at the idea. "Don't be stupid, Dave. Let's go!"

Dave groaned and Klaus ignored it, urging him to his feet and scurrying towards the door. "Sure everyone's still asleep?" He asked Ben, who hummed.

"It's five in the morning, Klaus. Everyone's asleep. Including Diego; he's going to stab you."

Klaus waved a hand dismissively. "He wouldn't."

"He has."

"Almost, Ben. Almost. If he wanted to do that, he wouldn't miss."

Ben snorted, shifting silently on the spot. Dave, still groggy from being suddenly woken up, obediently followed Klaus, both his hands holding onto one of Klaus'. Klaus led him out the corridor, silently heading down to Diego's bedroom. He didn't bother knocking before sliding in, Ben and Dave accompanying him. He could hear Diego snoring and Klaus tilted his head towards Ben.

"Can you see any?" He asked in a whisper. Ben hummed, wandering a few steps away.

"Just wake him up."

"He'll stab me!"

"I thought you said he wouldn't."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "That was me being hopeful. Go, ghostie. Do your job."

"My job?" Echoed Ben. "I'm not your guide dog."

"If you think about it, Ben, you basically are."

"Klaus." Diego groaned, voice rough and deep as he shifted on his bed, and Klaus froze. "What the fuck are you doing in my bedroom at-" there's a pause "five in the morning?"

"Uh... nothing. Go back to sleep. This is all a dream." 

"If it was my dream," Diego stated, sitting up, "you wouldn't be breaking into my bedroom wearing nothing but those hideous rainbow budgie smugglers."

Klaus gasped, running his fingers along the edge of his underwear. He may have forgotten that he was virtually naked. "They're gorgeous, Diego, and you know it!"

Diego sighed, bed creaking. "Mornin', Dave," he offered, and Dave sheepishly waved back.

"Mornin'."

"Now, what, pray tell, are you doing in my room? You're lucky I didn't stab you."

"I told you," whispered Klaus to Ben. "Uh... I need sunglasses. Big assassin man that shot us up and kidnapped me broke mine, and, uh..." he waved a hand at his face. "It's all on show."

Diego snorted, slumping back into his bed. "Why don't you just, I don't know, talk to the family? Tell them?"

"Why would I do that?" Klaus asked with a scoff, placing his hands upon his hips and shaking his head slightly. "Just give me some sunglasses, bro."

"Who says I have any, bro?" Diego retorts, but Klaus could hear his bed creak as he stood up, feet scuffling over the floor. Klaus grinned, following after him eagerly, reaching a hand out expectantly. His foot caught something on the floor and he let out a choked cry as he ungracefully crashed forwards onto the ground, flailing his hands out. 

"Shit - Klaus!" Diego cursed, and he felt his hands go to his arms to help him up to his feet again. "Watch where you're going."

Klaus stared blindly at him, unblinking, and then he burst out laughing. "Aw, I wish I could, Diego," he snickered, letting his brother lower him onto his bed. He heard Diego's words catch in his throat as he tried to think of how to quickly back track, and he was sure his brother's face was dark with a blush.

"I - shit - I'm sorry, I didn't -"

"Ah, shut it, knife boy. It was funny! But what the fuck did I trip on?" He frowned, rubbing his sore knee. 

"His room's a bomb site," muttered Ben. "You tripped over a bag."

"Doesn't matter," said Diego, sounding suddenly way older than he actually was. "Just sit still and try not to kill yourself."

Klaus hummed.  "At least I keep my room clean."

"I clean our bedroom, babe," commented Dave, and Klaus gasped.

"You're supposed to back me up!" He folded his arms across his chest, pouting, and Dave's hand ran down his arm softly, finger tips tickling his skin. He heard a drawer slide open, heard things get shoved around in them, and Diego came back up to Klaus.

"Here," he said, and Klaus held out his hand. A pair of glasses settled into his palm and he felt along the frames. They were thick frames, hopefully, he thought, with a funky pattern. 

"Are they, like, actually black out lenses?" He asked, holding them up and scrutinizing them as if he could actually see them. 

"Yup. Won't be able to see a thing," Diego confirmed. With that, Klaus slid them onto his face and grinned, hopping up to his feet and clapping his hands together.

"Oh, thank you! I knew you were my favourite brother for a reason," he grinned, reaching out until his hand came into contact with his shoulder. He patted his shoulder a couple of times before heading to the door.

"Klaus?"

He hesitated in the doorway, pressing his lips together. "Mhm?"

"Are you going to tell the others?"

Klaus tipped his head to the side, running his tongue along his teeth. "Yes," he said with a shrug. "Probably, anyway. Five made me promise I would, so... maybe at the next funeral, huh?" He was glad he couldn't see Diego's expression, and he snatched Dave's hand from his shoulder, tugging him out of Diego's bedroom and back to his. He slumped onto the bed, listening to Dave close the door gently beside him before the bed dipped as he sat down. Klaus set his new glasses onto the bedside table and slumped into Dave's side. The veteran let out a content sigh, ducking his head into the crook of Klaus' neck. 

"Go back to sleep," Klaus said, reaching up to run his fingers through Dave's hair. 

"Then I'm gonna miss a few hours with you," Dave uttered sappily, and Klaus' cheeks flushed slightly. He reached aside, fishing his Walkman and his headphones from his table and holding them up.

"I'll jam to my tunes and play with your hair, babe. I know you like that," he cooed, raising an eyebrow. Dave gave a soft chuckle, tilting his head enough so he could press a chaste kiss to his neck.

"You've got me there," he chuckled. Klaus grinned, and slowly the two manoeuvred so that Klaus was laying down with Dave's head on his chest, his hair tickling Klaus' chin. He put his headphones on, pressing play on his music, and let Dave wrap his arms around his torso. He ran his fingers through his slightly curled hair, pushing the strands away from his face and gently massaging his scalp with his chipped-painted nails. He felt when Dave's breathing got more heavy and steady as he fell asleep and he couldn't help but smile to himself, gently running his hand down from his head and down his side, and he smiled to himself. 

He didn't need to be able to see Dave as long as he could have moments like these. He pressed his cheek to the mess of Dave's head and held him close until the morning.

"I'm just saying, if you didn't want to see my ass, you could have knocked."

Outside the bedroom door, Klaus heard Luther sigh in exasperation. "I - I didn't think you slept like that, Klaus."

"I'm a grown man, Luther. You should be glad I was even wearing any underwear."

Luther managed to sigh for what seemed like the umpteenth time in five seconds. "Just get dressed and get downstairs, the world's ending in three days."

At the sound of his retreating footsteps, Klaus sat up in his bed, eyebrows furrowed. "Uh, can I ask what he means by that?" Dave queried, pulling himself out of the odd position he had been curled up in after Klaus had twisted in some contortionist-esque position upon Luther's arrival, all simply to avoid showing his face to him when he opened the door. Klaus waved a hand dismissively.

"I think the world's ending. That's what Five said, anyway. Did I not tell you that?" He asked, pursing his lips in thought.

"Uh... I can't remember either, to be fair," hummed Dave. He stretched his arms out above his head and yawned groggily. "Well, it sounds kind of... important. Come on, let's get changed."

Klaus groaned, slumping into his bed. "I don't wanna deal with the end of the world," he whined, folding his arms across his chest. Dave snorted, fumbling around the bedroom to pull his own clothes on. A few seconds later, Klaus felt a bundle of fabric being thrown onto his lap. He gave one last dramatic groan before giving in and throwing his clothes on, if only because it was the skirt and white shirt combo. Then he found Diego's sunglasses and he shoved them onto his face, grabbed Dave's hand, and trudged his way downstairs. 

Everyone seemed to be gathered in the living room already, save for Five and Vanya. Klaus gracefully collapsed onto one seat, hauling Dave down with him, and he quirked an eyebrow in the direction of his siblings. 

"I got us all coffee," said Allison, handing it out, and damn - she'd even gotten one for Dave. Klaus decided to forgive her for all the times she'd not allowed him to steal her clothes when they were younger, beaming at her as if she had just single handedly saved his and Dave's life. Klaus cupped his own between his hands, letting the warmth seep into his ever-frozen hands. "Three days?" Allison continued.

"That's what Five said," Luther confirmed at the opposite end of the room, taking a sip of his coffee. Klaus hummed.

"Old bastard did mention something about the apocalypse, come to think of it."

"But can we trust him?" Asked Allison. "I don't know if you've noticed, but Five's a little..." She trailed off for a moment before whistling, and Klaus snickered.

"Our little psycho," he murmured fondly, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Luther spoke up again. "He was pretty convincing. If he wasn't trying to stop an apocalypse, those lunatics wouldn't be chasing him."

"That's why they were looking for him?" Asked Diego, tone cold. Klaus grimaced. Dave had checked over the wounds the nice detective had bandaged up for him, and the ones still bandaged were hidden beneath his shirt. They still hurt like a bitch, he thought, especially whenever he moved in a certain way.

"Yeah."

"What did Five even see?"

There was a moment of silence as Luther hesitated. "Uh... apparently, we all fought together against whoever was responsible." He trailed off awkwardly and Klaus leaned forwards, raising his eyebrows. Luther stood up, quickly pacing away. "Okay, so, here's the plan. We go through dad's research -"

"Whoa, whoa, wait," Allison called.

"Wait a tick, wait a tick," Klaus joined, holding a hand up. "What actually happened the first time around, Luther?"

"Yeah, what are you not telling us?" Diego asked carefully. Luther hesitated. He mumbled something that suspiciously sounded like it held the mention of death, but he covered it was a cough and by taking it a sip of his coffee.

"Uh, what?" 

"I said," Luther groaned, "uh, we died."

Klaus blinked, cocking his head to the side. He... wasn't quite sure how to process that. They had died? Klaus tipped his head to Dave. Had Dave been there? Had Dave died, too? He pressed his lips together, squeezing his hand slightly tighter. 

"And you think we have a shot fighting it this time around?" He asked, slightly snappily and sarcastically. 

"Klaus, shockingly, has a point," snorted Diego, and Klaus waved a hand in his direction. "What gives us a win this time?"

As if some God had heard his question, the air suddenly crackled with electricity. Dave and him jumped, turning to the source of the sound, only for a crash to happen quickly after it. Klaus sat up a little, looking around. "Uh, did I just hallucinate something crashing into the living room?" He asked, standing up. Dave stood up with him, a hand on his back. 

"Five, where have you been?"

"Are you all right?"

Five grunted, tumbling off the table, and Klaus quirked an eyebrow. He listened to Five shove their siblings away, gulping down what he could only assume was someone's coffee. 

"Who did this?"

"Irrelevant," Five dismissed with a grunt. He took a moment to catch his breath, heaving in a sigh. "So, the apocalypse is in three days, and the only chance of saving the world is, well, us."

Klaus glanced to the side where he had heard Diego, hoping his expression translated what the fuck well enough, and he knew Diego would get it. 

"The Umbrella Academy."

"Well," said Five, "and me. And if you don't get your sideshow selves together, we're screwed. So what if dad messed us up? Are we gonna let that define us?"

"No," uttered Allison.

"And to give us a head start for next week, I've got a lead. I know who's responsible for the apocalypse; here's who we have to stop."

He heard something get passed between them and his head followed the sound of someone fumbling with paper. 

"Harold Jenkins? Who the hell is Harold Jenkins?" Asked Allison, confusion lacing her words. 

 "I don't know, yet... but I do know he's responsible for the apocalypse. We have to find him, and we have to do it now."

"How is he connected to what's gonna happen?" Asked Luther, and Klaus nodded. He could understand the importance of needing to stop the apocalypse, but unless there was clear proof that this man was connected to the apocalypse, they could either be about to hurt an innocent man or waste their time with the wrong person.

"I don't know."

"Wait," Diego said, stepping forwards, "so you just know his name?"

"That's enough," defended Five, sounding utterly confident with this. Klaus wondered how he got this information all of a sudden, what he had been doing before suddenly crashing into their living room.

"There's probably dozens of Jenkinses."

"Then we better get looking," he urged sarcastically, hissing a breath through his teeth. If Klaus didn't know any better, he'd say he sounded in pain. He knew better than to ask Five if he was in front of everyone, though.

"I mean, how exactly do you know all this?" Asked Allison. It took Five a minute to reply, tense. Klaus tipped his head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

"He looks like shit," uttered Ben, scrutinizing their brother. "I can't tell if he's properly hurt, though. It just looks like some bruises."

Klaus nodded, pressing his lips in a tight line. Five continued. "You know those masked maniacs that shot up the house?"

Klaus let out a small, breathy laugh. "Oh, yeah. I remember those guys," he commented. He could virtually feel Diego's look he was sure he was giving him.

"Yeah, them. They were sent by the Temps Commission to prevent me from coming back and preventing the end of all life on earth," said Five.

"The Temps what?" Asked Allison.

"My former employer. They monitor all of space and time to make sure that whatever's supposed to happen... happens. So I went to the headquarters and intercepted a message that was meant for those lunatics. 'Protect Harold Jenkins.' So he must be responsible for the apocalypse."

It made sense to Klaus. Kind of. Apparently not to the others, because after a moment of thought, they dispersed slightly, blurting questions out to Five. Klaus snickered, shrugging to himself and taking a few steps to the side until he could sit down. Dave sat down next to him. 

"What'd you think?" Klaus asked him, raising an eyebrow. Dave snorted.

"I don't think I have enough braincells to try and think about that," he stated, and Klaus snickered, nudging his shoulder.

"Do you know how insane this sounds?" Allison asked sceptically. Five sighed dangerously.

"You wanna know what's insane?" He asked, stalking forwards, voice law. "I look like a thirteen year old boy. Klaus talks to the dead and Luther thinks he's fooling everyone with that stupid overcoat. Everything about us insane. It always has been."

"He has got a point," chimed in Klaus, shrugging innocently. He turned to Dave. "Welcome to the family." Dave snorted, squeezing his knee. 

"We didn't choose this life," said Five. "We're just living it. For the next three days, anyway."

Allison sighed. "We all died the first time. What's to say we won't die this time? Why shouldn't I go home to my daughter?"

"Because," Five stressed, "this time, I'm here. And we have the name of the man responsible. We actually have the chance of saving the lives of billions of people. Including Claire."

Allison staggered over her words for a minute. "You know her name?"

"I do, and I'd like to live long enough to meet her," he stated. Silence followed, and Klaus knew he had won over their sister.

"All right," she said, stepping to the side. "Let's get this bastard."

"You had me at Gerald Jenkins," agreed Diego.

"Harold Jenkins," corrected Five with a sigh. "Luther?"

Number One hesitated. "Yeah. You go. I'm gonna stay and look through dad's files. I still think this has something to do with why he sent me to the moon."

Klaus snorted. "Seriously?" Said Diego. "Now you wanna make the end of the world about you and dad?"

"No," defended Luther. " 'Watch for threats.' That's what dad told me. You think that's a coincidence? This all has to be connected somehow."

"We all have to stick together," said Allison, her voice softer. 

"We don't have time for this," muttered Five, shaking his head and taking a few steps to the side.

"Let's roll," Diego insisted. "I know where we can find this bastard." He hesitated. "Klaus, you stay here, yeah?"

Klaus sat up, tilting his head to the side. "Why?" He asked. 

"Yeah, why?" Asked Allison. Klaus felt himself grow tense, already knowing exactly why. It was exactly the thing he had been dreading once they found out; Diego didn't see him as capable of doing anything, let alone looking after himself. 

Diego sighed, shifting on the spot. "Because, someone should stay back here. In case they come around," he tried.

"We know why," snorted Luther, bitterness in his voice. Klaus, curious, turned to look at him. "You're not fooling anyone, Klaus. You're too high or drunk to try and help us right now."

A hollow laugh fell past Klaus' lips. "Uh, what?" He asked, standing up. "I've been sober for, like, a year, Luther. Not even a single drink."

"Luther," murmured Diego, voice low and warning. "Let him be."

"What?" Luther asked, and he sounded almost at his wits end, stressed and impatient. "I get that Klaus has always had you wrapped around his finger, Diego, even when he stole your money for drugs." Klaus grimaced, cheeks flushing in shame and embarrassment. "But you can't seriously think he's not been drunk or high the moment he came here." He turned to Klaus, stepping closer to him, and Klaus stood up, tongue running across his teeth. "You can't walk in a straight line, Klaus. You miss things that are right in front of you. Your reactions, they're as if you're processing everything late. You're not fooling anyone with those glasses. What're they for? Hiding the bloodshot eyes?"

"Luther," Diego growled, and Klaus held up a hand to stop him. He stepped forwards until he could almost feel the heat radiating off him, hear his breathing, and he locked his jaw, tilting his head up to meet him.

"Fuck. You," he ground out. He reached out, jabbing a finger against Luther's chest - much closer than he realised. "I am not high, or drunk, Number One," he hissed, and Luther swatted his hand away. 

"Prove it," he said, and Klaus raised his eyebrows. 

"I'm not gonna piss in a cup for you," he retorted, putting his hands on his hips. 

"Klaus, I've had enough of you doing this," said Luther, sounding so disgustingly disappointed. "I can't keep being okay with you killing yourself like Diego and Dave might be."

"Don't you dare," seethed Klaus, "bring Dave into this." He balled one hand into a fist by his side, grinding his teeth together and shaking his head.

"How did you meet? Was he your dealer? Keeping you too high to help the family when we need you, too high to talk to dad -"

"Oh, go fuck yourself, One. Dad can rot in hell," he scoffed, throwing his hands up into the air.

"Take it back," said Luther, taking a step forwards, and Klaus took one back. 

"Or what? You gonna punch me, big guy? With your freaky monkey arms because dad was a sadistic bastard that experimented on you like a guinea pig! You should be horrified of what he did to you, his 'favourite son', Luther."

Luther's hand tightened around Klaus' upper arm, holding him firmly in place and surely leaving a ring of bruises as he let his hold on his strength slip in his anger, and Klaus lashed out, slapping his hands against his chest. He was forced back as Luther easily pushed him back like he weighed less than a feather, not flinching at all as Klaus shoved uselessly at his chest. 

Klaus had never been able to beat Five in close combat, let alone Luther, when they were kids. Luther's strength had been horrific growing up; him not quite having a hold on it just yet, accidentally breaking things or hurting people because he forgot to hold himself back. It didn't mean any of them had ever stopped trying to bombard him with kicks and punches in an attempt to win. Diego had gotten close, but never won yet. He suspected that the fight at the funeral was the closest he'd ever come.

"Luther, let him go," Diego said, along with Allison, Five, and Dave, stepping closer cautiously. Klaus felt a marble pillar collide with his back and he growled, trying to claw his hand off of him.

"Take it back," Luther demanded, voice low, and Klaus kicked him. He didn't flinch, unsurprisingly. 

"Eat shit, Luther," Klaus hissed, and he leaned forwards in a last effort to get Luther's hand off him. At this rate, his arm was going numb, and he was honestly worried he was about to snap the bone. He leaned forwards and bit his hand, and a moment later he was skidding across the floor a few feet, dazed as his head wacked off the floor. He heard his glasses clatter to the floor, felt them get crushed underneath his hip as he fell - he ought to apologise to Diego, for that - but it took him a moment to process anything, ears ringing. Someone - Dave - was by his right, Diego by his left, and they helped prop him up, Dave being careful around his throbbing arm. 

"Klaus..." Allison murmured, a couple feet away. Klaus swung his head to face her, blinking dumbly at her. "What's... what's wrong with your eyes?" She asked, and Klaus felt his stomach sink in defeat. He slumped against Diego with a sigh. 

"I'm not fucking high, or drunk, Luther," he said slowly, turning to look where he could hear his footsteps coming closer, slow, hesitant. "I'm fucking blind, you dumbass."

Chapter Text

Diego's hand squeezed Klaus' shoulder as silence echoed around the room. Klaus simply waited, focusing more on the throbbing in his head than the awkward, tense silence. Finally, Luther spoke. 

"What do you mean, Klaus?" He asked sceptically, stepping closer. Klaus looked up, making a show of blinking.

"I'm blind, Luther. Not high, not drunk; blind." He ran a hand down his face with a heavy sigh and stood up with the help of Dave and Diego. He waved a hand at his eyes, raising his eyebrows. 

"Klaus," Allison breathed, and he heard her step forwards until she set a hand on his shoulder. Klaus sighed, letting her scrutinise his eyes for a moment before he stepped back defensively, feeling much like a freak show, being studied and ogled. "Klaus - what?"

Klaus waved a hand. "Sit down, sit down, sit down," he urged, and he nudged Dave until his lover guided him to a seat. Gratefully, he sat down, crossing one long leg over the other. He rubbed the sore spot on his arm where Luther had bruised his arm, pouting to himself. 

"I can't believe he did that," Ben muttered, seething. "I know how he felt about your drugs, but to hurt you. Fuck him. Fuck him."

Klaus held up a hand slightly in his direction. "Take a breather, Ben," he muttered dismissively. "Don't get your panties in a twist." 

"Klaus. Explain," requested Luther, his voice tight with restrained emotion. An armchair creaked as he settled into it, his foot tapping on the floor, and Klaus sighed. He kept his head tilted slightly down self consciously, unwilling to lift his head and give everyone a clear show of his scarred eyes. He let out a dramatic groan, slumping in the seat and against Dave.

"Well, I had to get sober one way or another, huh?" He joked, cracking a weak smile across his lips. He sighed, letting the smile fall. "I got in an argument with some guy. We were both out of it, so he got pretty... mad. We had a little fight, it got out of hand. Uh... next thing you know; kitchen supplies are extremely painful, apparently." He replaced his smile, though he could just feel how awkward and forced it was. He sighed, dropping his chin into his hand. "That was, like... a year ago. A year and six months. Not much I can do about it now." He shrugged nonchalantly, fingers picking at a thread on his shirt. Dave's hand was warm and steady on his thigh, thumb soothingly rubbing little strokes up and down his skin. Klaus placed one of his hands over Dave's, sliding his fingers between Dave's and squeezing his hand. 

Luther swallowed. "I'm... I'm sorry, Klaus," he said, voice quiet. Klaus stilled as if he wasn't quite sure how to react to Luther apologising to him. He pressed his lips together, glancing away. He waved a hand.

"You didn't know big guy, don't be so tough on yourself," he dismissed, waving his hand vaguely. 

"Why didn't you tell us?" Allison asked, her voice shaky. Klaus tipped his head in her direction, raising an eyebrow. He turned his head back to Diego.

"Well, I've already been kicked out of the action," he stated. "I can actually take care of myself. Surprising, I know. But now you're all going to tip toe around me as if I can't walk down some stairs by myself." He folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head in irritation. 

"You did get kidnapped," muttered Ben jokingly. Klaus rolled his eyes.

"And I pissed them off royally."

Ben snorted, foot scuffing on the floor beside him. Klaus returned his attention to the situation at hand. He couldn't help but let a sigh leave his lips, his head lolling to the side and resting against Dave's shoulder. He hadn't wanted to tell them. Or, at the very least, not like this. He would have rather done it on his own terms in his own time. 

"I'm sorry, Klaus," murmured Diego. "But we don't know what we might find at Harold's house. We might just be walking into danger."

Klaus waved him off. "And? I can fight, Diego. I took all the same combat lessons as you did. I can manifest Ben if I'm in trouble. I'm not - not fucking helpless!" He snapped. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, letting out a heavy sigh. It was the main thing he had dreaded upon his siblings learning about his situation; they'd see him as even more useless and weak than they already had. He couldn't even be the damn lookout now. "And now," he continued, "you're all just going to stick me on the side lines like a little kid, or you're just going to think I deserved what I got for being some junkie."

"Klaus!" Spluttered Allison, hurt. "We wouldn't - we would never think that, Klaus."

Klaus raised an eyebrow. "Would you not?" He sneered, huffing out a breath.  

"Klaus. You said... you said you were attacked," said Luther, voice slightly rough. He coughed into his hand, shifting on the spot. "Who did it?"

Klaus' eyebrows drew together, tongue dashing out across his lips. He shrugged half-heartedly. "I can't remember his name," he stated. "It doesn't matter. The nice detective lady took him away." He waved his hand dismissively, sitting up slightly and crossing one leg over the other. 

"What detective?" Pressed Luther, sounding angry - but, possibly for the first time ever, not at Klaus. Klaus blinked in his direction, almost emotional. It seemed all of his siblings were ready to jump on his attacker upon finding out what had happened, and even Luther was, too. It made him feel... strangely touched. Made him have to blink a few times and swallow around something in his throat. Almost made him want to hug his stupid siblings. 

"Austin Sharp," muttered Five, and Klaus raised an eyebrow at him. "That's the guys name. I found it out." He said it nonchalantly, clicking his tongue and scuffing his foot along the floor. "He got out of prison not long ago - some bullshit about good behaviour and a piece of shit lawyer that argued his case, and the fact that Klaus wasn't around to argue back."

Klaus' eyebrows raised up to his hairline, and despite the fact that he couldn't even remember the guys name, that he hadn't paid attention to the whole legal side of things after it happened, he felt dread coil in his stomach, an instinctual fear at the idea of that man walking free. It was true that he hadn't given a damn about the legal case after it happened; he had given his patchy account of things and then told the police to fuck off. He hadn't cared what happened to the man, because he hadn't cared about anything.

"Come on," cooed Klaus, shaky hands fumbling with a record player. "Let's put on a song and dance, Adam. I just want to dance."

The man, Logan, or whatever his name was, was still lounging in the tangle of bedsheets, as naked as Klaus, Klaus' joint dangling from his fingers. His eyes narrowed and he scoffed. "We ain't havin' a fuckin' dance," he scoffed. "And we ain't done here. Get back here." He reached out an inviting hand to him, nodding towards the empty space on the bed. Klaus giggled at him, rolling his eyes.

"We just finished the second round, babe," he stated, running a hand down his side and the finger-shaped bruises on his hips. The man took a final drag of his joint before resting it on the ash tray beside his bed, not stamping it out, and he reached for something in his drawer. He fumbled with something in his drawer while Klaus fumbled with the record player, and had Klaus been any more sober, he might have realised the man wasn't as high or drunk as he pretended to be.

"Klaus," uttered Ben, fading and weak but still just there, "I think you should leave. I don't like him, Klaus."

Klaus waved his hand over his shoulder, dismissing him easily. He finally managed to put a record on and let it play, turning the music up on it, and the man growled in irritation. "Turn that shit off," he huffed, watching Klaus sway his hips to the music with a lazy grin on his lips. 

"Don't be like that," said Klaus, turning to face him and holding his hands out. "Just one little dance, babe, come on."

"Stop fuckin' calling me that," hissed Edward. He stood up, swaying slightly and staggering closer to Klaus. "I ain't your fuckin' boyfriend, I ain't your 'babe', and I ain't a fuckin' fag bitch like you, either. I bought you a drink, the least you can do is get your whore ass back in bed." 

Klaus glared at him, eyebrows furrowing. "Don't fucking call me that," he snapped, folding his arms over his chest. He watched the man, just an inch taller than himself, with rugged dark hair and piercing brown eyes that had sought him out on that dance floor in the club. He wasn't necessarily muscular, more so having a dad bod - Klaus didn't discriminate, though, whether a man was muscular or skinny or not - and he had certainly not seemed like the kind of guy to seek out the kind of man Klaus was. He had been nice in the club, taking him to the bar and buying him multiple drinks, sweet talking him and calling him gorgeous, not hiding what he wanted but not being gross about it. It was only when he popped a pill which Klaus gave him and it hit him did he become like this. He came closer, glowering down at him with flushed cheeks and puffed out cheeks. He reached out, hand wrapping around Klaus' biceps, and he all but threw him down on the bed with the strength that had pulled Klaus in earlier, but intimidated him now. He stood at the edge of the bed, something dark glinting in his eyes, and then he had crawled over him, hands going around his throat. 

Ben was cussing up a storm beside him as if he hadn't seen Klaus in some worse situations, and Klaus growled, struggling and swearing beneath him before he threw his head back and heard a satisfying crack. "Get fucking off me!" He snapped, throwing him off and crawling off the bed. "Fuck you, man. You're a fucking psycho. I'm leaving," he stated, fumbling to grab his underwear off the floor and to pull them on. He grabbed the rest of his clothes, storming through the apartment and to the front door, the man following him as they both yelled curses at one another. 

"Get your ass back here," the man demanded, storming after him. Klaus flipped him off over his shoulder and the man grabbed his hand in a bruising grip.

"Fucking hell, just fuck off!" Klaus pulled his hand back, the other one going to shove the mans chest, and the man retaliated by slapping him. Klaus dropped his clothes on the floor beside them, shoving him back. The shoving and hitting escalated, the two men yelling insults and curses at one another and quickly going to throwing punches. In the background, Ben begged Klaus to just run out. 

He didn't, and it was too late. The man shoved him and he tripped over his clothes, head whacking against the kitchen table, and he crashed to the floor, pulling down a flower vase with him. He groaned, holding his head in his hands as it throbbed. The man stomped closer and Klaus kicked out, satisfied when he heard a cry of pain and the man's knees hitting the ground beside him, one hand cupping his groin and the other clutching a nearby kitchen counter. Klaus pulled himself into a sitting position, shaking his head minutely. He heard a drawer open, the man hissing a storm of curses that sounded vaguely like 'whore, slut, prostitute, fag' and a whole lot of other colourful curses that made Klaus bristle in anger. Then the man was straddling his waist again, and Klaus saw some bottle of something - bleach, drain cleaner; some kind of deadly mix of strong chemicals - a second too late. Ben yelled in horror and the man settled one hand on Klaus' throat, the other tipping the bottle up and letting the contents run out. 

The pain was immediate. His mouth and throat burnt as some spilled into his mouth and he swallowed on reflex, and his eyes closed too late. Klaus thrashed like a wild horse, alternating between clawing at the mans hand and at his own face. He hardly heard the man drop the bottle and his hand around his throat shook him. He said something that Klaus didn 't catch between his blood curling screams and his blubbering please, his ragged breaths. The man let Klaus go, getting off him and he had taken a seat calmly while Klaus gagged on the floor, hands pressing into his eyes. 

"Ben," he begged, "Ben, Ben, oh my God, oh my God, Ben, help me, please, please, Ben, oh my God." 

Ben had disappeared, however. Watching the police and willing them upstairs quicker, or his connection severed momentarily; whatever. He wasn't there, and Klaus was in too much pain to listen to the man as he spoke, and he wouldn't come to remember what he said in the future. 

"You know," he said, calm and composed. "It was easy to find you, Klaus. Always running about and trusting strangers." He let out a sigh. "I wished you would have swallowed more of it. No, I wished you would have shut up. I was trying to avoid jail time. You probably won't even remember this." Glass had crunched as he stepped closer, picking up shards of the vase Klaus had accidentally smashed. He had cut himself up, then, and put the glass next to Klaus, and blood had dripped around them heavily. "I used to like you, you know. Maybe not you specifically, but The Umbrella Academy." His voice grew bitter and he leaned close. "And this is revenge for ruining my fucking life."

At some point, sirens echoed outside and voices infiltrated the apartment. A woman crouched beside him, saying things like 'Detective Patch' and 'it's okay'. The man had whimpered, composure suddenly gone, asking if Klaus was okay and saying that he was so, so sorry, but Klaus was high and had attacked him and he had simply retaliated and gone too far, fearing for his own life. The nice detective lady had stayed by his side, simply reassuring him it was fine. 

It wasn't okay, though. It wasn't, and all he could do was rock on the floor, pleads and sobs broken only by gagging and retching.

"Klaus? Hey, darling, listen to me." 

Dave's voice broke through the flashback, yanking him to the present, and he startled, sitting up, He blinked, tilting his head towards him.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice rough. He coughed into his hand that wasn't shaking in Dave's. 

"Are you okay?" He asked in his beautifully soft voice, and Klaus closed his eyes, melting into his side. Dave wrapped one arm around his torso, squeezing his hip. Klaus forced a smile.

"Fantastic," he grinned. 

He didn't know why that had bothered himself so much. It had been over a year. He was used to blindness and he had gotten mostly over it. He didn't care about Ethan, or Euan, or whatever his name was. 

He could feel Dave's eyes boring into him and he groaned in defeat. "God, don't look at me like that," he said. "Fine. I don't... want him out," he muttered quietly, pouting his lips out. Dave rubbed his side softly, tilting his head so he could press a kiss to his head. 

"I'll deal with him," blurted Luther, and that caught Klaus' attention. He raised an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean, big guy?" He asked sarcastically. "You just gonna... waltz up to him and pop his head off his shoulders? Not that I'm opposed to you doing that, but... legal reasons, you know." He waved a hand vaguely and heart Luther clear his throat and swallow. 

"He can't get away with doing that to you, Klaus. You're... blind."

Klaus snorted. "I'm well aware of that. Look..."

He got cut off by the sound of footsteps suddenly in the doorway, and it seemed all of them were startled to realise no one had noticed the front door open and someone enter.

"Guys?" Said Vanya, hovering in the doorway. "What's going on?" 

Everyone hesitated, words caught in their throat, eyes flicking to Klaus.

"It's a... family meeting," said Allison uncertainly. 

"A family meeting?" Echoed Vanya. "Nobody told me about it."

"It's not important," Allison added.

"It doesn't involve you," uttered Luther, and Klaus turned to where he thought Ben was, exchanging a look with him. 

"Then who's that?" She asked, and Klaus tipped his head to the only new person in the room with one arm wrapped around Klaus. Vanya's voice was bordering on upset and hurt, turning slowly to disbelief and anger. 

"Well, this digressed," he muttered, and he stood up with a groan, deciding to intervene before it got any worse. "You just missed me punching Luther, Van. But I will recreate it again if you want to see it." He made his way over to her, waving the others off with one hand, the other slightly out stretched by his side in a subtle search for anything in his way. 

"I - Klaus? What's wrong with your eyes?" Vanya asked, her voice thankfully moving from rising anger to concern and confusion. Klaus settled a hand on her shoulder once she was close enough, urging her out of the living room, nudging the doors closed behind them to give them privacy. 

"You just missed that, too. Really, you missed the most interesting thing ever; Luther and I had a little brawl. I think I won? By default, I'm saying I won -"

"Your eyes, Klaus. Are you - are you-"

"Blind?" Klaus offered. "Ah, well, you see. About that. Yes. That was kind of blunt, I'm sorry." He sighed, turning around and holding her upper arms. He opened his mouth to say something before his eyebrows furrowed and he looked up. "Is someone else here? Are we being broken into again?"

"No, that's - that's Leonard, my boyfriend -"

"You have a boyfriend?" Klaus gasped. He clapped his hands together. "Oh, that's great! I'm so proud of you - so do I! That was Dave in the living room, by the way. I told you about him. We can go on double dates!" He let out a loud gasp, hands covering his mouth. "Does he treat you well? I will punch a bitch if he's not nice. Does he, you know, satisfy you?" He winked and Vanya groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

"Klaus that's not important," she muttered, hands reaching out to clasp over his wrists. "But Klaus. What do you mean you're - you're blind?"

Klaus deflated, turning back to the conversation at hand. He offered a weak grin. "Well, I had to get sober somehow, huh?" He joked. His shoulders slumped and he shuffled awkwardly on the spot. "Yeah, uh... it was an accident. I just kind of only told everyone right now, so I wasn't keeping you out of this -  I was keeping everyone out of this, hah, except Five because the little bastard knows everything - but... yeah. I... surprise?"

Vanya huffed a breath, stuttering over her words. She reached a hand up, fingers ghosting over his cheek, and he flinched instinctively before ducking his head down slightly. 

"I'm... Klaus, I'm so sorry," she murmured, choked up. Klaus reached up to take her hand and squeeze it gently.

"Hey, no, no, don't say that. You didn't do it, Vanya, so don't be sorry," he dismissed with a snort. "I'm fine now, anyway, don't worry about it. Where's this boyfriend of yours, then?"

Vanya hesitated, struggling not to say something. Eventually, she pulled Klaus into a tight hug of which he happily returned, brushing off the boyfriend comment for the moment. 

"I... I'm sorry Klaus. I am. And I... me and Leonard are leaving. Just for a while," she said, and Klaus raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"I figured... the whole apocalypse thing. I'm no help either way, and I don't want to get in the way. But... I'm feeling good now, Klaus. I feel great, and Leonard has this little house by a lake we're going to go to for a while together. In case the apocalypse does happen... I want to be somewhere good," she told him, and Klaus frowned. Part of him wanted to ask what about your family? but when had any of them acted like her family to her? Instead, Klaus smiled, nodding his head. 

"I get that. Just... be safe, huh? Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" He squeezed her shoulder, glancing back as he heard footsteps coming closer.

"Leonard! This is Klaus. Klaus, this is Leonard," introduced Vanya, her voice just perking up at the sight of him. It made Klaus' lips twitch upwards for her and he held out a hand with a grin.

"So you're the boyfriend?" He mused, listening to the footsteps stop in front of him. "You better be treating her right, man."

The man chuckled, hand sliding into Klaus'. "Of course," he said. "I wouldn't dream of anything else."

His voice was... familiar. Familiar in the way that Klaus couldn't quite place it, but it made his stomach churn. Maybe it was from a drunken night that he had little to no recollection of but his conscience did, or maybe not, but his smile faltered slightly. "Good," he said, standing up slightly taller. "I'd hate to have to set my men on ya," he joked, half-seriously. The man simply laughed light-heartedly, taking his hand back.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, but we ought to head out now," he said, nudging Vanya, who hesitated. Klaus squeezed her shoulder. 

"We'll find you if we need to, yeah? Go have fun, lil' sis. But not too much fun." He winked at her, taking a few steps back. Vanya let out a sigh, squeezing his arm.

"Thanks, Klaus. Take care, okay? Thank you." Her voice softened and Klaus gave her a little wave, listening to her footsteps retreat out of the academy with Leonard's. A shudder shook his body and he groaned, shaking his head, and then turned and walked back into the living room.

"Lil Vanya's going on a date," he announced, interrupting their conversation. 

"Oh," cooed Ben, "who with?" 

Klaus shrugged. "Someone called Leonard," he stated, his face pinching. He didn't like him and he desperately wanted to know where he recognised his voice from, but his memories were all vague and muddle thanks to years of drug and alcohol abuse. He sighed, pushing it to the side for now. He placed his hands onto his hips.

"Okay, so. Now everything's out of the way; Harold Jenkins, huh? Let's find him. I'm coming with, and none of you can say shit or I'm suing for discrimination." 

Chapter Text

They were all piled up in Diego's car. Klaus decided that Five was a piece of shit, for he had called shotgun and left the three fully grown adults to manoeuvre themselves around the backseat. Turning the car off, Diego spoke up.

"I know this Jenkins dude has to have a record," he stated, ever so full of confidence in himself. Allison heaved a sigh, her knee knocking against Klaus' for the umpteenth time. "We just gotta get our hands on his file."

"And, what? Your plan is to just waltz on in there and ask for it?" She mused, unimpressed.  

"I know this station like the back of my hand, sis. I've spent a lot of time inside," replied Diego. Leather squeaked against leather as he shuffled to look at her. 

"Handcuffed."

"Whatever. Here's the plan-" 

"Plan?" Interrupted Five. "I'm just gonna blink in and get the file," he stated. Diego scoffed.

"No, that's not... you don't know the ins and outs of this place, okay?"

"I literally just did this yesterday," retorted Five, sounded exasperated. "My yesterday, not your yesterday. It'll take me two seconds. Why don't I just go?"

"Listen to me," Diego replied. "You are not going in there." 

"Just let the kid get the file," Klaus interrupted, throwing his hands up and hitting both Dave and Allison either side of him. 

"I made a call," argued Diego. "Because that's what a leader does. He leads. Now," his door opened, a rush of fresh air flooding the hot car. "I'll be a minute." He didn't give them a moment to argue before the door slammed shut and both Five and Klaus let out a groan.

"He's so... angsty," muttered Klaus. "One might have thought he would've given up on that competitivity of his, but no."

"It's Diego," Allison commented. "I'm pretty sure that's his power."

"Bet," grinned Klaus, holding out his hand. Allison snorted, and then she took off her seatbelt. 

"I'm gonna go try and phone Vanya again," she announced, opening the door. From the passengers seat, Five moved again.

"I'll come with you," he agreed, a puff of sudden wind announcing his teleportation out of the car - doors were apparently too hard to open. Klaus' head thumped back against the headrest.

"Here I thought I'd get some quality bonding time," he muttered, hands scrubbing down his face. He needed a shave, he thought. 

"Don't get too comfortable," Ben piped up. He had taken his spot on the floor by Five's feat, apparently, if the comments of Five having no concept of personal space (despite not knowing Ben was there) was anything to go by.

"I mean, I get that Vanya didn't exactly leave on good terms," Klaus continued. "We all were kind of dicks to her. Except me; everyone can thank me for derailing that argument at the family meeting we excluded her from. Wait for applause." He paused and awkwardly Dave clapped a few times. "Thank you. But maybe she just needs some time alone with her boyf."

"Boyf?"

"Yes. Her boyf. It's short for boyfriend, Ben. Get with the times."

"We still need her here, with us. She's our family and the world's about to end. Oh, Diego's got the file."

Klaus perked up, crawling out of the car and Dave, one hand on Klaus' left elbow, led him to where his siblings had gathered. There was a rustle of paper as they all fought for the file and it ended in Allison's hands. She took a moment to read over it before she exhaled slowly. "Holy shit."

"What is it?" Asked Klaus, pressing in. 

"Harold Jenkins... it's Leonard Peabody. Vanya's boyfriend."

Klaus' eyebrows rose up and he glanced aside. "What?" He heard more rustling as someone took the file from Allison, and Five muttered another curse.

"This isn't good," he murmured. "This is much deeper than just about Vanya." 

"What is it, Five? Spit it out," Diego grunted, and Klaus felt his nerves jump with whatever Five was obviously hesitant to say.

"Harold Jenkins is Leonard Peabody. He's also Austin Sharp." 

"Whoa, whoa, what? That asshole that -" Diego cut off with a huffed out breath, eyes burning into Klaus, who... well, he wasn't quite sure what to do. Austin Sharp was the guy - the alias of the guy - whom had purposefully blinded him with, obviously, a much deeper intention. Austin Sharp was the man dating his sister and the man about to end the world. 

Had he been planning this the whole time? Planned to take out the Academy one by one? What Klaus had thought was had just been his misfortune, a bad encounter, nothing short of a random roll of a dice, instead had been entirely purposeful; premeditated, thought out, planned ahead of time. He'd been watched, he'd been targeted, misled and fooled. He had been so dedicated to this act, too, willing to go behind bars for years and to continue his plan of taking them out. He probably hadn't even intended to simply blind Klaus, but more so to kill him, but perhaps Klaus had struggled too much, thrashed too much, and he decided that incapacitating him, making him utterly useless, was as good as dead.

His stomach boiled with sudden nausea, sudden rage and horror, so overwhelming all at once that his knees felt rather like jelly, weak and wavering, and he found Dave's arms wrapping around him, holding him up when he threatened to collapse. 

"He did that," he rasped, his throat dry. He swallowed rapidly, mouth painfully dry. "Purposefully." 

"It looks that way," Five uttered, and Klaus could feel everyone's eyes on him.

"He went for Klaus, and now he's dating Vanya," said Allison, and there was a rustle of paper. "It can't be a coincidence."

"It's not," said Five. "It won't be."

"He might do this to Vanya," Klaus said. "We need to get her. Now. We need to find her."

"There's an address on the paper. We'll check there first."

"She said she was going out - somewhere out of town, out of the city-"

"This address is closest," said Five. "We'll go there first; they might have stopped by there. Okay? Let's go, then," he urged, and they were all rushing towards the car, Klaus stumbling over his own feet in a haste to blindly follow after them, clumsily retracing his steps with Dave guiding him as best he could. They all piled into the car, hardly closing the door before Diego was taking off, demanding directions from Five.

Dave set a hand on Klaus' thigh, leaning close to him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of his breath on his skin.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Klaus swallowed. He lifted a hand, brushing his fingertips over the scarred skin surrounding his eyes, splattered around his cheeks, littered around his face like careless paint splatters.

"It wasn't an accident," Klaus murmured. "He knew what he was doing. Had planned it all out. I should be dead." His hand sought out Dave's, fingers interlocking. Dave squeezed his hand, running his thumb over the back of his hand. 

"I can't imagine how that feels," Dave said. "I'm sorry."

Klaus swallowed. "We just need to get to Vanya," he mumbled, lifting his head slightly in the direction of Five and Diego in the front of the car, infrequently bickering about which turn to take. "Before he can do anything. She... what if he kills her?" 

"We'll get there," Allison spoke up. "He won't do anything by the time we get there. Five, where are we going?"

"There's a home address in the city in his files," Five replied. "It's ten minutes away if Diego keeps driving this illegally."

"Shut up, Five."

"She said they were leaving the city," Klaus insisted. "We're just wasting time kicking around at his house. They won't be there."

"They might be, and if they are and we don't go there now, we won't have time to drive back into the city," Five said. Klaus grit his teeth together.

"He won't do anything here. He'll take her out of the city if he wants to - to hurt her, and they'll have gone quickly; she said they were doing it quickly. Don't waste time at his house, Five." His leg bounced anxiously. Why would they stick around in the city, especially now with the knowledge that he plans to get rid of her in one way or another? They were wasting what could be very precious time. Klaus didn't want to imagine what he was doing to her now. His attack had been messy, violent, as if he'd planned something more clean and professional only for anger at him, at the Umbrella Academy, to bubble over, and for him to lash out like a feral animal, intent simply on hurting Klaus. He couldn't imagine Vanya going through something like that. He didn't want to. 

"I agree with Klaus," said Allison. "Is there another address in the files? Diego, just go. It's been long enough for them to get whatever they needed from here and to leave. It's a waste of time searching his house when we already know what he's planning."

Diego's fingers drummed across the leather of his steering wheel. "Well? Is there another address in there?" He asked, directing the question to Five. There was more rustling of paper, a heavy sigh from Five. 

"There's one," he confirmed, nodding his head. "Far out of the city, it'd take us a while to drive there."

"Hence why we should go there now!" Insisted Klaus, running his hands through his hair. Dave squeezed his thigh and he slumped into his side, heaving a sigh. 

"Should we get Luther?" Allison asked. "If we're all going?"

"And where, pray tell, is he going to sit in this clown car? There's no room."

"Five," Diego growled, hands tight on the steering wheel. 

"What? There's no room, Diego. Do you want to stuff Luther into the back as well?"

"No," said all three people currently in the back, shaking their heads simultaneously.  

"We ought to tell him what's going on," Allison said. "There'll be another car me and Luther can take. But he needs to know if someone's attacking his siblings and targeting the Academy as a whole."

"Fine," sighed Five. There was a violent flutter of paper as he dropped the file onto his lap. "Okay. We'll go home, fill Luther in on all of this, steal a car for you two, and go."

Klaus did suppose that having Luther with them would help. Luther's presence was intimidating - or so Ben had said, considering how he'd apparently quadrupled in size - and if Leonard, or Harold, or Austin - whatever his name was - had a trick up his sleeve, Luther's strength would, no doubt, come in handy for them all. So Klaus slumped into the leather seat, his head propped against Dave's shoulder, and he blinked his eyes and wondered why, when there was little to no difference whether his eyes were open or if they were closed. 

It had been on purpose. He had seen Klaus and he had watched him, watched what clubs he frequented, watched how he acted around men, saw his dependency on drugs and alcohol, and exploited it all to get close to him. He'd gone out of his way to get drugs to lower his guard, to, hopefully, make him more pliant, lazy, like melting putty in his hands, and he'd used him, no doubt got pleasure from realising that Klaus might not be dead, but he'd thoroughly, permanently crippled him, whether or not he'd live for long, he'd be left with the consequences of that one afternoon, the few minutes it had taken him to get into the kitchen and upturn a bottle of chemicals onto his face, forever. 

Klaus remembered the utter struggle that the recovery had been. After it had happened, while he had been reeling from it and trying to adjust, it had been Hell. And some days it still was; he woke up and he felt just as bad as he had a week after the accident. He woke up, infuriated, his hands shaking, as he tried to do things without the help of Dave or Ben, only to confuse himself on his whereabouts and his bearings, to fail at doing simple things he wouldn't have thought twice of doing previously. 

He balled his hands into tight, trembling fists, his painted nails digging into his skin, leaving prints of little crescent moons in his skin. His teeth ground together. He opened his eyes. He closed them. He screwed them shut tightly, and let Dave's fingers draw patterns on his skin, soothing, gentle, wordless comfort. 

Diego's car pulled to the side slowly, then, and they forced themselves out into the chill on the streets, hopping up the stairs and marching into the Academy. "Luther!" Called Allison, voice rising over the clicking and thumping of their footsteps. "Luther? Are you - oh."

Klaus gravitated towards her voice in the direction of the living room. "Oh," said Diego. Five snorted. 

"What?" Klaus asked, shoulders slumping as he swung his head side to side, wherever he presumed his siblings might be. 

"It's Luther," murmured Ben, seeming just as shocked as everyone else.

"I think he's..."

"Drunk," finished Diego for Dave. His feet scuffed the floor and Klaus could imagine him shifting his weight, folding his arms across his chest and shaking his head in disbelief, bitter amusement. 

"What is it?" Luther spoke up from the opposite end of the room, by the bar. His words were slightly slurred together. The bar stool groaned beneath Luther's weight as he turned to face them.

"We found something important," said Five. "We were going to get you to come with us, but you're wasted."

"What did you find? What is it?" Luther asked again. 

"It's about the-"

"You know, he never - never opened anything I sent him from the moon. I found it all. He didn't care. I was wrong. It wasn't about the moon - he just wanted - he just wanted rid of me." He could hear the hurt in his voice and Klaus grimaced, toying with his lower lip awkwardly. He remembered Diego at the funeral, saying how Reginald had been disgusted with Luther and had to ship him off. No doubt Luther had already been replaying those words in his head. "Four years - I was alone for four years, for no reason! I did everything he wanted me to do. I didn't go out; I didn't have friends. I stayed for him, and he never - he never cared."

Klaus did feel bad for him. Truly, he did. All of them had gone through the revelation that he was now; simply done so years ago. But now was just... ironically a rather inconvenient time for him to do so. What with Leonard (or Austin or Harold - whoever) and Vanya. He knew it hurt, but so would the pain that would come if they got to Vanya too late and she was hurt, or dead. Klaus swallowed the idea down. The fact that Luther was drunk, too, had him reeling more so than the idea of him finally realising that Reginald was a bastard. 

"We haven't got time for this," Five muttered, heels clicking. "He'll be no use. Just leave him be."

"We've all been there, buddy," offered Klaus. 

"Klaus," said Luther, with some intensity. Klaus quirked an eyebrow. "You need to conjure dad. Summon him; bring him here. He needs to answer to me for what he's done. I need answers." He heard Luther heave himself to his feet, heard a glass thump dangerously onto the bar counter. Klaus sighed. 

"I can't, Luther. I've tried. He's as stubborn in death as he was in life."

"Luther-"

Luther came close, close enough for Diego to give him a warning. Klaus stilled slightly, subconsciously tipping his head upwards, hearing Luther pause just in front of him. He lifted a hand hesitantly, searching forwards until he felt Luther's arm; he was, indeed, rather close. He could smell liquor wafting off his breath. Expensive liquor. The kind Klaus would have drained by now usually. Dave, standing beside him, stood a little taller, tense, ever protective, brushing shoulders.

"I know you can, Klaus," said Luther, and he clapped a heavy hand onto his shoulder. "Do it."

"Luther, I already tried - I can't get him to come, man. I'm sorry-"

"Don't lie to me, Klaus," Luther snapped. He didn't sound angry, but rather extremely tired and weary, almost confused by Klaus' denial, though his voice did begin to rise. "Bring him here now. He needs to answer to me."

"I can't, Luther-"

Luther pressed forwards, forcing Klaus to stagger backwards until he came into contact with one of the pillars in the room, his fingers curling into the collar of his jacket, bunching it up in his fist against his neck. Klaus held his hands up in defence while uproar came from everyone else.

"Woah, woah, woah, Luther, don't fucking touch him-"

"What do you think you're doing, Luther? Put him down-"

"Luther, stop!"

"Put him down, Luther."

Luther's hand was shaking. "Dad needs to tell my why," he ground out.

"He's already said he can't get him, alright?" Diego said, inching closer. "Leave him alone and sit down."

"Luther, please," said Allison, soft. She came up, resting a hand on Luther's outstretched arm. "Come on. Let's sit down."

Luther lingered, tense and silent, but eventually his stiff fingers uncurled, freeing Klaus from his grasp, and Allison led him back to the couch. "Guys," she said, "just go for Vanya. I'll stay here."

"You sure?" Diego asked. Allison didn't verbalise a response so Klaus, smoothing his clothes out and slinking away from the pillar he had been pinned against, assumed she had just nodded. Sure enough, though, Dave was guiding him back outside, Diego and Five joining him, Ben silently leading the way ahead of them, unseen. At least there was space left in the backseat, though Klaus still sat in the middle. Ben took the free seat this time. 

"Can't believe him," Diego muttered, starting up his car. "Wasted because he got sent to the moon." He scoffed, leather squeaking as he moved. 

"Can't blame him," Klaus muttered. "That full liquor cabinet would be too tempting."

Diego snorted. "Of all days, though."

"Hargreeves luck."

"Can't believe he grabbed you."

"You can't?" Klaus scoffed. 

"Take a left," muttered Five.

"It was a dick move," Dave mumbled with a huff of breath. Klaus' lips twitched and he nudged his side. 

"I heard you stand up for me."

Dave nudged him back. "Of course I did."

"Aww. That's sweet. But Luther's insanely strong. I don't want him to get pissed at you."

Dave shrugged. "I'd take him on."

"He's a giant."

Another shrug. "If he hurt you, it doesn't matter."

Klaus smiled, his cheeks heating up. Ben loudly cleared his throat and Klaus subtly flipped him off, leaning into Dave's side. 

"If you're willing to throw a punch at Luther, I approve," Diego commented sarcastically. He turned another corner. 

"You're all so violent," Five chastised.

"Don't say that like you weren't taught how to kill someone with a flower vase, too," Klaus retorted, pointing a finger towards him for a moment.

"Over the head," Ben murmured absently. Klaus hummed in acknowledgement. 

"How far have we got to go?"

"It's far out of the city," said Five. "Near a lake."

"Oh," mused Klaus. "Didn't know there were lakes near here."

"Exactly."

"Put the music on."

"No."

"Do it," Klaus insisted. 

"No," repeated Diego.

"Do it."

"Klaus, I'll turn around."

"You'd just be wasting time, knife boy. Keep driving." He reached a foot out, kicked the back of Diego's seat before pulling his leg back. He heard Diego sigh unnecessarily dramatically, but he switched the radio on, turning it up slightly.

He wasn't sure how long the drive really took. They went through plenty of songs on the radio, plenty of mindless news stories. Five instructed Diego on where he was going and Ben commented on things they passed by and Klaus tried not to think about everything. Tried not to think about Harold-Austin-Leonard and his plan to take apart the Academy, how he purposefully attacked Klaus, how he had been manipulating Vanya and was alone with her now. He tried not to think about, tried to keep himself distracted on different things; the sound of others cars nearby, the radio, Dave, the sirens. 

"Fuck," Diego cursed, hissed out between his teeth.

"What is it? Pull over," Five said. Klaus sat up slightly. 

"Why are we getting pulled over?" He asked. 

"Don't worry about it," Diego muttered. The car slowed to a stop and he took his seat belt off. "Dave, can you drive?" He asked. Dave sat up, leather creaking.

"Yeah, I can," he replied, a little startled.

"You're gonna have to drive. Scratch the car and you'll regret it; Klaus' boyfriend or not. I promise."

"Diego, what the fuck are you doing?"

"He's getting fucking arrested," Five sighed, irritation clear in his voice. Diego slid out of the car and Klaus couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything. They simply waited until, presumably, Diego was in the back of a police car and being driven away, and Dave took the driver's seat. Klaus leaned forwards between the two front seats.

"What the fuck," he reiterated.

"Hargreeves luck," Five echoed sardonically. "I doubt he'll be five minutes, let's just go. He'll break out later."

"Was he actually just arrested?"

"Cuffs and everything."

"Christ," Klaus muttered. He slumped into his seat, scrubbing his hands down his face. 

"Three siblings down," Ben commented sarcastically. Klaus snorted.

"Dream team, here we go."

The car bounced over uneven roads, chugging along slowly, gravel crunching beneath the tires. "I think we're here," said Ben, leaning up near the window. "It's... nice, I guess. Really, really windy. I don't think it was so windy earlier." 

Klaus hummed. The car slowed to a stop and he sat up. "This is it," said Five, distracted as he eyed the building outside. 

"Then let's go. Can you see her?"

"Klaus," said Five. "I think you should stay here. In the car."

Klaus raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Silence stretched. "Just in case, Klaus."

"I'm coming in with you," he scoffed, reaching over Dave to open the door; he had to battle it against the wind that threatened to slam it back down on him.

"Maybe it'd be better if you waited," Ben admitted. Klaus raised his eyebrows incredulously, swinging his head between the two of them. Then he shoved Dave until he climbed out of the car so he could follow him, but Dave caught his wrist as he crawled out.

"Klaus," he said, voice soft. Klaus groaned.

"I'm going in," he stated, shaking his head. "Let's go; it's freezing." The wind was violent, whipping around them, howling loudly, trees rustling all around. It was as if they were in the centre of a violent storm, one he would never brave going outside in. He heard the car doors thud shut as Five got out, too. Above the wind, and above everyone else, Klaus could hear music. Not just any music, but a violin. High and haunting, somehow standing out despite the ferocious wind. Dave guided him forwards after Five, uttering about stairs, and he was grateful to pile into the house they had driven up to, sheltered from the wind. Vanya's violin stuttered, bow halting over the strings.

"Five? Klaus?" She asked, confusion evident in her voice. "What are you doing here? Dave?"

"Hey," said Klaus, waving his hand.

"We're here for you, Vanya," Five stated. "You need to leave with us. Right now."

"What? Why?" She asked. The tip of her violin bow tapped the floor; wooden slabs, with a large carpet spread over it, Klaus could feel beneath his feet. 

"Just - we'll tell you at home, Vanya. But you need to come with us." 

Was Leonard here? Klaus tried to strain his ears to hear, but with the wind still battering itself against the walls and windows from the outside as if desperate to break through, he could hardly hear. 

"Can we go?" Klaus asked. "Something - something weird's going on here." The wind felt like its own person, banging its fists furiously on the windows, the door, the walls, almost akin to the mindless violence of the ghosts, had walls and doors stopped them. He didn't like it. He wanted to leave. He didn't like this place; he could feel it in the air, wind or no wind, that it was a bad place, and he wanted to leave as soon as he could.

"Yeah," said Vanya. "I know."

"You know? What do you mean?" Klaus' eyebrows drew together. 

"It's me," said Vanya. "I'm doing this."

Klaus turned his head towards Five. "What do you mean?" Five asked, voice low.

"I'm doing this. With my powers. It's me."

Klaus blinked heavily. "Your powers?" He echoed. 

"What?" Ben muttered, taking a few steps around, as if peering outside the windows. 

"Turns out I have powers," Vanya answered. "Had them all this time. Isn't that weird?"

Klaus scoffed. "Yeah. It's - it's - wow. I mean, that's - it's great, Vanya," he stammered, taking a step forwards. "Really, that's great - all this time?"

"Must have been. My medication. I stopped taking it and... I was fine. Better."

"That would mean..." Five trailed off. "That dad knew. Dad knew and he gave you medicine to supress them."

Vanya nodded, humming quietly.

"How did we not know?" Klaus asked. "We would have known. I... I don't remember anything."

"I was thinking," Vanya said. Her voice was oddly detached, a mix of many emotions that struggled to overcome one another, struggled to remain calm and level. "And I remembered. I remembered it all. I always had them. Dad trained me. You guys knew. But... something happened." The wind picked up, like a chorus of haunting wails screaming outside, mournful, grieving, pained. Klaus grit his teeth together, hardly resisting the urge to clamp his hands over his ears. He could feel the floor trembling beneath him with the pressure. His chest felt tight. "Allison - she rumoured me to think I was ordinary. I guess she rumoured you, too. I'm not sure." Her tone was almost accusatory. A floorboard creaked outside the room with new footsteps. 

"We never knew," said Five, and he sounded sad, ashamed, almost. "We never knew, Vanya." The door creaked and someone - Klaus knew without sight - walked in. Five sucked in a breath and Dave slotted himself in front of Klaus.

"What's going on?" Leonard asked. "Is everything alright Vanya?" That sickeningly sweet tone, mocking innocence, so confident in himself. Klaus' hands curled into fists. He wondered if he was looking at him. Wondered if he knew that he'd realised who he was now. What he was up to. 

"We were just-"

"Leaving," interrupted Five. "Vanya, you need to come with us."

"I... no. I don't want to. You won't tell me why."

"We can talk at home," said Five. 

"Why don't you just leave her alone?" Leonard asked. "Haven't you done enough?"

"Fuck off," Klaus bit before he could stop himself. 

"Klaus," Vanya breathed, almost hurt.

"I know," Klaus continued, and he hated how his voice wavered despite himself. "I know what you're doing."

"I'm looking after your sister that you abandoned," Leonard replied, his voice icy cold. He must be by Vanya's side now. The wind dragged its claws across the window, scrabbling desperately at it.

"We didn't do anything," Five said, his voice cold and harsh, older than himself. "Vanya, come on-"

"You couldn't have just forgotten your sister had powers," Leonard scoffed. "Vanya remembered. You would have, too. You chose to just keep ignoring him. Chose to leave her alone, pretend she was worthless, nothing. You know you did."

"Don't say shit like that," Klaus hissed, stepping from behind Dave. "You did this to me, and you're just here to hurt Vanya, you don't really care about her-"

"Klaus, stop that-"

"I'm here for her. That's more than you can say for your entire life ignoring her, pushing her aside-"

"You don't care!" Snapped Klaus. "You're a sadistic bastard - Vanya, let's go! He's not who you think he is-"

"Just stop, Klaus-"

"Vanya," Five insisted, "listen to us."

"Yeah, listen to them, though they always just pretended you never even existed. They knew and they never told you. They left you aside, made you worthless. Less than worthless. They never cared."

"He's lying-"

The light about them shattered, bulbs exploding, glass raining down onto the carpet. "Stop it!" Yelled Vanya. "Just stop - stop! Stop lying to me!" Her voice was choked with tears, and there was the sound of thunder and lightning, and then a crack in the air, akin to a whip, almost, and Klaus wondered if the windows shattered, too, because there was a gust of wind as solid as Luther barrelling into him, throwing him backwards, along with Dave and Five. His head hit the wall, a sickening crack echoing from it, and consciousness left him almost immediately; the howling wind gone, Ben's background yelling gone, reality slipping rapidly out of his grasp.

Chapter Text

He awoke to eerie silence, if one were to ignore the ringing in his ears. No wind, no floorboards creaking, no talking. His head hurt in a similar fashion to the time he had fallen down the stairs at the Academy, cracking his head off the floor and breaking his jaw, only now the pain radiated from the back of his head instead. His eyebrows drew together and a groan from his lips broke the silence like a whip. Then; "Klaus? Klaus, are you awake? Are you okay?"

He forced himself to lift his head off the floor, his fingers scrabbling across the wooden slabs beneath him. His back hurt, and his hips, too. "Oh, fuck," he hissed, propping himself up. He lifted a hand tentatively to prod at the back of his head. It wasn't wet, at least, skull still entirely intact despite the way it felt as if a drill had had its way with it. "What happened?"

"Vanya, remember? Vanya... she didn't mean to hurt you."

"Oh, fuck," repeated Klaus, sitting up a little more urgently. "Where is she? Where is everyone? Dave? Five?"

"Vanya and Leonard left. Dave's to your left; he's unconscious. Five; he's - he's bleeding. I don't know how bad it is, Klaus. You need to conjure me, or check on him, Klaus; to your right, forwards." Klaus followed Ben's rushed instructions, fingers scratching the ground until coming into contact with something wet and warm. He grimaced, pulling his hands quickly up before searching forwards again.

"How long was I out?" He asked. "Why's he bleeding?" 

"A while," Ben admitted, "and I... I didn't see what happened. It's his chest; he must have hit something." Klaus nodded, gritting his teeth. He felt an arm and followed it up to his torso. His clothes were soaked, wet and sticky with blood, though Klaus could follow a long, clean slash through his jumper and his shirt and, beneath them, he could feel a wound. It was long, stretching from one shoulder and downwards to his opposite side, and still sluggishly bleeding, though not as heavily as it must have been earlier. It felt as if someone had taken a knife and slashed his chest with it, but he knew Five, and he knew that he wouldn't have let that happen to himself. Maybe a window had broken and he'd fallen on the glass - but no, because Klaus was kneeling by his side and he had felt not a single splinter of glass, let alone a piece big enough to do this.

"Shit, okay, we've got to get him home," Klaus muttered. "Is Dave okay? Where is he?"

"He's still out. I... there's a little blood by him, but he's not bleeding now."

"Fuck." Klaus only just caught himself before dragging his hands down his face, streaking blood everywhere. He wanted to reach out and grab him, try and check him over; wanted to see him, but at the same time Five was laying in a puddle of his own blood, and Klaus could heart the bubbling that came with each laboured breath he took. "Okay, fuck. Right. Bathroom, Ben; there's got to be a bathroom nearby. Towels, something."

"Yeah, yeah. To your right, keeping going forwards. There's a towel in the kitchen." 

Klaus' hands streaked Five's blood across furniture and walls as he fumbled around, blindly following Ben's directions. His shoes clicked as he stepped onto tile as opposed to wood, and he heard glass crunch beneath his feet. The place must be a mess, he thought. And Vanya had done it, because she had powers. Powers powerful enough to cause what had seemed like a mini tornado around and inside the cabin. It was hard to connect Vanya's face, the lingering memory he still had, to such a volatile thing. It was hard to wrap his mind around it. 

He reached out, fingernails scratching the surface of a dining table until they came into contact with the small towel that Ben had seen, then he turned around, staggering back into the living room. His foot slipped in blood and he tumbled, just catching himself before he could fall face first into it. He hissed, more so in frustration than the ache it jarred, and then he sought out Five, shuffling closer and bundling the towel up against his chest. Then he reaches another hand up to find his cheek, tapping it lightly. His head lolled slightly, limply, and Klaus tapped him again. His cheek twitched, eyebrows pinched. 

"Hey, Five, come on," he uttered, shaking him lightly. "I'll fucking kill you if you haunt me. Wake up." 

Five didn't give him much response more than a wheezed breath. Klaus lifted his head up. "Is the car still outside?" He asked.

"What?" Ben spluttered. "Yes, it's still there, but Klaus - you can't drive."

"No time to learn like the present, huh?" Klaus joked dryly, turning his head back down to Five beneath him. 

"Klaus, you can't see, let alone tell me which pedal is the gas and which pedal is the brake; you're not driving anyone anywhere," Ben stated, and Klaus pursed his lips.

"I can't help him here," he replied, stressed, fingers curling into the towel. He could feel parts of it become damp and heavy. He wasn't sure of how much blood Five had lost exactly, but he could guess that it was, simply put, too much. Would it need stitches? He wasn't a professional; he couldn't tell. 

"I know," said Ben helplessly. "I know." 

The urge to find Dave, too, clawed at him. How badly hurt was he? He was still unconscious. Had bled. He wanted to check on him, but he had to trust Ben in telling him that he wasn't too badly hurt, while he could tell that Five was. 

He sat back, applying a little more pressure to Five's chest. He'd just have to hope that  him and Dave woke up soon, or that the room stopped swaying like a rocking boat beneath his knees long enough for Klaus to conjure Ben. What Ben could do, really, he wasn't entirely sure; but he could do something. He simply held a towel to Five's wound and let his mind wander. Vanya had powers. Reginald had known; he had put Vanya on medication for years to keep her powerless. Allison had rumoured Vanya into thinking she was ordinary. Had she rumoured everyone else? Klaus couldn't remember a time when Vanya had been anything more than ordinary, but nor could he remember Allison rumouring him. He just simply couldn't remember it, but evidently, something had happened. 

He was nodding off. He was aware of that. His ears ringing like church bells in the wind, head drooping so that his chin swung above his chest, his hands resting on the towel over Five rather than putting any pressure down on him. He found, though, that there wasn't much he could do, what with his limbs full of lead as they were.

Then he heard a car. Wheels rolling up on the drive outside, doors thudding open and closed, footsteps slapping the porch. He forced his head up, ears perking. "It's them," Ben said, making him startle for he had been quiet for quite some time, mulling in his own helplessness as much as Klaus had been. The door creaked open on its hinges, grating against Klaus' ears, and he heard footsteps coming close. 

"Klaus? Klaus, what happened - shit," said Diego, stumbling closer. "Five?"

"What happened, Klaus?" Luther asked, hurrying over. His hands reached out, moving Klaus' aside to replace them with his own, and Klaus allowed him, shuffling backwards.

"Did Leonard do this? Where's Vanya?" Allison asked. Klaus shuffled backwards even more, until he could turn his back on them, hands searching across the floor until, finally, finding a leg in his grasp. He followed it up Dave's body, coming to cup his face, cradling him between his hands. 

"Leonard didn't do it," he murmured. He tapped Dave's cheeks until he twitched, until his breath hitched. 

"What do you mean, Klaus? Are you hurt? We need to get him out of here."

"It wasn't Leonard," he repeated. "Dave? You with me?" He leaned closer to Dave, thumb brushing his cheek. 

"Luther, I've got Five; you get Dave. Let's get them out of here, okay?" Diego said. There was shuffling as Luther and Diego fumbled around one another, Diego picking Five up slowly and Luther coming closer. Klaus' hands fell as Dave was lifted away from him, out of his reach, and he staggered up onto his feet. Allison came close to him, reaching out to hold his arm to guide him outside. They left the place like a murder scene, hurrying to file into Diego's car and the one Allison had driven. Klaus slid into the backseat of Diego's car with Dave, his head pillowed on his lap, while Allison, Luther and Five went into the other car. Diego started the car up without a word, hurrying to lead the way for Allison's car to follow.

Klaus ran his fingers through Dave's hair. There was a small patch matted together with blood and Klaus skirted his fingers around it, unwilling to risk causing him any more pain. Klaus could tell Diego was speeding. He had turned the radio off.

"Weren't you arrested?" Klaus asked absentmindedly. Diego hummed in acknowledgement.

"Ah, yeah," he confirmed. "I got out."

"Oh. Why were you arrested?"

"There was a... mix up. Interfering with a case, and with Hazel and Cha-Cha. Made it look like I was connected to them, or something." He shrugged, leather on leather squeaking. "Eudora had the proof that I wasn't, so I got out quickly after that. Allison sobered Luther up a bit, but it still took us a while to drive here. Klaus... you said Leonard didn't do that; what did you mean?" 

Dave stirred. Klaus continued running his fingers through his hair. He hoped his hands weren't too messy with Five's blood and that he hadn't just made a complete mess of himself and Dave. "It was Vanya," he stated. 

"What?"

"Vanya did it. Not on purpose, I think."

"How the fuck do you accidentally slash your brother open?" Diego scoffed. "How did she do that?"

"I don't know, Diego. Her powers, I guess, but it's not like I could see what she did," Klaus retorted. He sighed, shoulders slumping. The car stuttered over a bump in the road. 

"What do you mean her powers, Klaus? Vanya doesn't have any powers," Diego returned, his voice low, careful. Klaus repeated his sigh, turning his head away. 

"It turns out she does," he uttered. "Dad's pills he put her on; they supressed them. She said... she said that Allison rumoured her to think she was ordinary. We got there, though, and the wind... there was just so much wind, and she said that she was doing it. Then Leonard came down, and we were arguing, and something happened. We got thrown back, and when I woke up, they were gone. Ben said that she didn't mean it. I don't think she did."

"Vanya has powers," Diego repeated. "Allison rumoured her. Wouldn't we know?"

"You'd think we would, but I can't remember a thing." Klaus' shoulders bobbed in a shrug. "But I felt it. She has powers. I don't think she knows how to really use them."

"What's she got, then?" Diego asked.

"Dunno. Couldn't be sure. Telekinesis, maybe? Violent telekinesis. I don't know." 

"Shit." Diego scrubbed a hand down his face. "You think Allison knows?"

"I mean... she must, right? I don't know why she wouldn't have said anything, though. At least now, with Reggie dead, anyway."

Diego bobbed his head in a nod. "I guess. We're in the shits, huh?"

Klaus snorted, shaking his head minutely. "You could say that."

"Are you hurt?" 

"Hit my head," Klaus admitted, "but I'm fine."

"And him?"

Klaus brushed his thumb over Dave's cheek. "I can't tell," he said, voice quiet. "I think he hit his head. He bled a little, but I can't see it." His teeth ground together in frustration and he continued to comb his fingers through Dave's messy hair. 

"Grace will check him out at home," Diego offered. "I'm sure he's alright."

Klaus didn't respond. He simply kept the motion of parting Dave's hair until the man began to wake up, stirring, twitching slightly. Klaus sat up, stroking his cheek gently. "Hey, Dave. You with me?" 

Dave grunted. He groaned, twisting in the small space of the car's backseat. "Klaus?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm here. We're in Diego's car. How do you feel?"

The responding groan was answer enough. "Yeah, I get that. But were you hurt? Talk to me."

Dave swallowed. "Just my head," he uttered, turning his head slightly away from the window. 

"Just where you hit it?"

"Guess so. Klaus - you're covered in blood, what happened?" He sat up a little with sudden urgency and Klaus had to push his shoulders back down, shaking his head.

"Not mine. Five got... he got hurt. It's his. Allison and Luther are with him in another car. We're going back to the Academy. Just rest," he said, continuing to run his fingers through his hair, staring absently aside. "How far are we?"

"A little longer," said Diego from the front of the car. "Just hang on." 

Dave didn't say anything further, and nor did Klaus. The car swerved around corners, rushing desperately across the road in a scrabble to return home. No doubt Diego was speeding, and Klaus couldn't help but think of the fact that he had only just been arrested and gotten out again. He tipped his head to the side until it rested against the cool window. How could he not remember that Vanya had powers? How had they been able to hide it for so long? And how had Vanya managed to do that. His mind raced with thoughts, all creating more questions of their own, and he hadn't an answer to a single one of them. 

He wondered where she was now. He wondered why she'd trust Leonard over them. After everything he did. Klaus' hand curled into a fist, nails digging into the palms of his hands, leaving little crescent moons in his skin.

The car announced its arrival at the Academy with a yell from the tires dragging across the asphalt. Diego threw his door open and Klaus fumbled with his own and, for a moment, he feared Diego was leaving them in the car. The door opened, though, and Diego helped Klaus out first and then Dave, who seemed more steady now, able to hold himself up as they all hurried inside. Klaus hurried to keep up, snagging Diego's arm and following him into the infirmary. Already Five, Allison and Luther were in there, Grace working quickly around Five, whose heartbeat was echoing in unsteady beeps from a machine. She coaxed Dave onto another bed, urging him to sit, and then she ushered everyone away.

"Five needs space," she said, "you can see him once he's settled." And then she pulled the curtain between them like a wall, a barrier, and Klaus could reach out and brush his fingers over it and, even as just a simple curtain, it felt impenetrable, blocking them out entirely. 

"Klaus," said Diego, his voice quiet, breaking through the tension around them like a thick spiderweb, tangled amongst them all intricately. "Come on, you need a shower."

Klaus swallowed, forcing his head to nod. "Yeah," he responded, letting Diego take a hold of his arm and guiding him out. Out and up the stairs, into the nearest bathroom. 

"Are you hurt?"

Klaus shook his head. "Just hit my head, but I'm fine." His fingertips stretched out and ran over the sink and counter. Diego deposited him on the toilet lid.

"Shower or bath?" He asked. Klaus tipped his head to the side. He didn't like showers but at the same time he didn't find the idea of bathing in blood appealing. Plus, a shower would be quicker, and he felt that time was rather precious at the moment.

"Shower."

Diego shuffled around and then Klaus heard the shower turn on, a spray of water rushing to hit the ground. "There's a towel next to the shower," Diego informed him. Klaus hummed, rising to his feet as Diego gravitated towards the door. "Just, uh. Yell if you need me," he offered. 

"Will do, bro," Klaus returned, and he peeled off his blood soaked clothes, leaving them in a heavy pile on the floor, and found his way into the shower. Beneath the hot water he reached for a body sponge and began eagerly to scrub at his skin until it stung beneath the shower's spray, pink and sensitive. He picked beneath his nails, scrubbed at his hands and his arms, his chest, his stomach and his legs, and combed through his hair, freeing any remnants of dried blood from it. He gave himself a once over, thoroughly searching for any remnants of dirt, and only then did he scrub his hands down his face, turn his head into the water, and let out a heavy breath. 

He needed to check on Dave and Five. He didn't truly know how badly Five had been hurt. He turned the water off, fumbled to find the towel left for him, and used it to hurriedly dry himself off and tie it around his hips. 

He left the bathroom with his hand ghosting over the wall, running over old framed portraits, display cases, door frames. He still felt slightly disorientated, still reeling, and so when Ben gravitated to his side, relief flooded through him. 

"How are you?" Ben asked.

"I feel as if this last week has been a huge fever dream," he responded. 

"Honestly? It really feels like that. That room's yours." Klaus dipped into the room at Ben's say so, immediately heading to his dresser. He didn't bother feeling the clothes he pulled out or asking Ben to describe them, simply grabbing the first shirt and pair of pants his hands came upon and pulling them on.

"Did you check on Five?" Klaus asked. He towelled his hair out and then lifted his head in the direction he assumed Ben was. According to Ben's footsteps shuffling to stand in front of him, he assumed wrong.

"Grace has him stable," he stated. "It's a... a bad cut, but he should recover."

Klaus sighed. "Good, good. The others?" He slid out of his bedroom, heading to the stairs and reaching for the banister. He wondered, briefly, where Fernando had gone. He couldn't remember. 

"Very confused. They asked Dave what happened, but he's not entirely sure either." 

Klaus hummed. "It did happen rather quickly," he admitted. "Not that I would have been able to tell either way."

"I honestly don't think sight would shed much light on the situation," admitted Ben, descending the stairs at the same pace as himself. 

"Maybe so," sighed Klaus. His bare feet padded against the floor as he came to a stop at the foot of the stairs, straining his ears. He heard everyone speaking in the living room and he was quick to head inside. Their chatting slowing as he entered, attention turning to him.

"Klaus," Luther acknowledged. Klaus slid into a seat, pulling his legs up onto the cushions, toes curling into it. Footsteps came close and the couch dipped as someone sat next to him, thigh to thigh, and he didn't need to ask who it was.

"How's it going?"

"We need to talk."

"You're not wrong this time," Klaus stated, jabbing a finger in his vague direction. He propped his chin upon the heel of his hand, blinking lethargically. "Five or Vanya?"

"What happened, Klaus?" Allison asked. "How did that happen?"

Klaus shrugged. "I honestly don't know how he got hurt that bad. We went there and there was a shit ton of wind, like, a storm, and Vanya said it was her powers doing that. She said that, uh..." He trailed off, swallowing dryly. "She said that her pills that dad gave her supressed them. She said that she remembered, years ago, that uh - it's funny, really -"

"Klaus, get to the point," Diego urged. Klaus' fingers twitched over his jaw.

"She said that Allison rumoured her to think she was ordinary. She assumed Allison rumoured us, too."

Silence stretched out. Ben snorted. "You - you rumoured her? Allison?" Diego asked, shock and disgust evident in his tone. "Allison-"

"I - I remember," Allison uttered, her words shaking, voice wavering, watery, muffled behind her hand like a muzzle. Klaus' brows furrowed together. "We were young. Dad made me do it. I didn't understand-"

"But you understand now!" Diego retorted. 

"I didn't want to," she said. "It was years ago, I didn't understand-"

"It's a bit late for that now," Klaus muttered. "There's  not much we can do, but we need to find her now. She left with him. She's in danger."

"She's in danger?" Responded Luther. "She's dangerous. Did you not see what she did to Five? He almost died!"

"She didn't mean to," Klaus said, sitting up slightly. "Leonard was confusing her, she was stressed."

"And? Klaus, you're lucky she didn't kill Five. Lucky she didn't kill you - or Dave, too."

Klaus tensed slightly. He set his hand on Dave's thigh and Dave covered it with one of his own. Luther sighed. "We shouldn't have let them go by themselves."

"You were rather preoccupied with a bottle of whiskey," Diego retorted. "What would you have done? Tackled her? I'm sure that would have made everything go peachy." 

"Can we talk about the fact that she's still with him though? Who knows what he's planning to do. We need to find her before he does something," Klaus urged. "We need to go find her before Leonard can weasel his way into her head - more than he already has."

"I think Vanya is more than capable of looking after herself," stated Luther. "Look what she did to Five."

"But she didn't mean to do it!" Klaus said. "She probably can't control it! If anything, she's just going to end up hurting herself without our help!"

"I have to agree with Klaus on this one," Diego said, nodding his head in Klaus' direction. "And I'm sure Five would too."

"Well, because of Vanya, he doesn't have a say. She's dangerous. We need to think of how to approach this smartly."

Klaus groaned, dragging his hands down his face, eyes screwed shut. "And," Luther continued, "we already know that Leonard is out to get us." Klaus could feel the heavy weight of his gaze resting on him. Before he could continue, Klaus raised his hands.

"Alright, you know what; fuck Leonard," he said. "Or Harold, or Austin; whoever. Forget about him. Luther, you can pop his head off his shoulders. I put myself into that situation with him; it's my fault. So let's just forget about him for now, and focus on our sister, yeah? We bring her back here, we talk to her, we help her. She's probably terrified." His hands clasped together, resting against his chest and the thick, oversized hoodie hanging off of his shoulders. 

"Klaus," said Dave, leaning close. "Don't - don't say that," he murmured, sounding rather choked.

"Say what?" Klaus asked, eyebrows drawing together.

"Don't say that it was your fault," he said. "It never was."

Klaus sighed, slumping and tilting his head upwards. "Yeah, yeah," he uttered dismissively. He shimmied in the seat as if he could physically shake free of Dave's sad tone, shoulders rolling. "As much as I hate the guy - and I do, don't get me wrong, I really do - I just think we should maybe focus on Vanya."

"And how would you go about doing that?" Luther asked him, huffing out a breath and shuffling on the floor. Klaus quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh, I don't know; probably find her first, tell her that Five understands she didn't mean to hurt him; tell her that we want her home, maybe?" He snorted, shaking his head minutely.

"How would you find her?" Luther asked.

"Is that a blind joke? Did you really just make a blind joke? I'm almost proud of you, if you weren't being such a dick about this."

"That was uncalled for, Luther," Allison uttered.

"I never said it was about him being blind-"

"Ah, don't take it back now, bro, I get it, I get it," Klaus dismissed, waving his hands, and then waving one in front of his face. "Number Four's just even more useless than he was before, huh? I get it. And yet I'm still trying," he pointed out, jabbing a finger in Luther's direction. "More so than I think you can say. And guess what? Ben's on my side, so stick that information-"

"Klaus-"

"You know where." He flipped him off before slumping in the couch, folding his arms across his chest. 

"I didn't say anything," Ben muttered over his shoulder.

"Shut up."

"What?"

"Not you," Klaus waved his hand at Allison. He could practically feel Ben's smirk, that same smug, shit-eating one he always wore when he enjoyed being difficult for him. He clapped his hands down onto the couch either side of him, then rose quickly to his feet, and Dave followed after him. "Well, you lot chat that out then, I'm going to see little Five. Try not to disown another one of our siblings." He threw up a peace sign and followed his memory out of the living room and towards the infirmary. Grace's heels were still clicking gently on the floor, pausing to turn when he and Dave entered.

"Oh, hello Klaus, Dave," she greeted softly, never-ending warmth in her voice. 

"Hey, mom," Klaus nodded. "Can we see Five?" 

"Of course, but do be quiet, please. He needs his rest," she commented, and then led him forwards, right up to the edge of the bed that held Five in it. He reached out, dancing his fingers over the bars on the bed, and then, tentatively, they crept forwards, reaching out to Five until he felt skin, and he followed his arm down to his hand, skirting the IV there. 

"How does he look?" Klaus asked, tipping his head to Dave. He came to his side, slipping an arm around Klaus.

"Young," Dave admitted. Klaus let out a small laugh, a huff of breath expelled. 

"Don't let the old bastard hear you say that," he snorted. "He'll be royally pissed if he heard that."

"I'm sure he would be," Dave responded lightly. "He'll be fine, Klaus."

"We're so fucked," Klaus muttered, shaking his head. He rested his elbows on the bars of the bed, dropping his head into his hands. Had he been able to see, would he have been able to save Five? Pull him out of the way or block his body with his own? Would he have been able to see Vanya and her powers getting worked up and have been able to stop it? Would he have been able to stop this before it had happened? He had no way of telling, and he never would, but he was sure he could have done something if he had simply been able to see what was going on. He might be largely used to his lack of sight, but he knew there were many things he was missing out on, things he couldn't perceive. 

He heard heavy footsteps leaving the living room, Luther trekking upstairs by himself, and Diego and Allison dispersed their own ways shortly afterwards. Klaus wondered if they had actually spoken anymore about Vanya, given it anymore thought, but the lack of response didn't reassure him anything. With a heavy sigh, Klaus fumbled around until he found a nearby seat, and he fell into it heavily. He felt exhausted, lead still ins his veins, head still aching like a beating drum. He heard Dave pull a chair up next to him, and he took one of his hands in his, and he held it as he fell asleep

"Klaus?"

He startled, jumping upright and almost tripping over the bed frame in front of him, hands flying out to grab it. He was confused for a long moment before the tell-tale smell of antiseptic paired with Five's voice told him where he was. "Oh, hey there, bro," he rushed out awkwardly. "How are you feeling?" He heard the blankets shuffle, the bed squeak as he sat up, and he hurried to gently push him back down onto it, shaking his head. "Nuh-uh, sir. You're staying right there; you lost a ton of blood. Do you need any pain relief? Water? Anything?"

A groan fell from Five's lips. He fell back into the bed, boneless, his breathing slightly heavy. "No, no... I'm fine," he dismissed, rather unconvincingly. Klaus raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you sure sound peachy, huh?"

"Everyone else?" He asked, eagerly brushing over the topic of himself.

"Everyone's fine. They're about the house somewhere."

"Vanya?"

"She left with Leonard before we woke up. We don't know where she is."

An irritated, low groan left Five, more dramatic than the first. Klaus hummed in agreement. "We've got to find her, then," he stated.

"That's what I was saying, although I wasn't really including you - no offence, bro, but you almost died, so sit your ass down." Again, he reached out to urge him back onto the bed with what he hoped was a stern look, though he doubted a stern look was enough to keep Five in place. 

"What did the others say?" He asked. Irritation was clear in his voice, no doubt about his current condition added on top of the rest of the situation. He probably thought, no doubt, that he could just power through and deal with any consequences afterwards. Klaus didn't believe so.

"Luther thinks she's dangerous and we ought to deal with her like that."

Five scoffed. "Of course she's dangerous," he said. "We all are. Luther can break someone in half and Diego can throw a knife into someone's pupil, Allison can alter reality and Ben had The Horror." He could hear the sarcasm and bitterness all but dripping from his words, a scoff punctuating his sentence. "Yeah, whatever. Diego?" 

"He agreed with me," said Klaus.

"Good. Alright. You, me and Diego'll go find her, then. Go tell Diego."

"Oh," said Klaus, eyebrows crawling up his head. "Yeah, uh, I don't think so, Five-o. I don't think you're in the best condition to be running around at the moment."

"We don't have time, Klaus-"

"Me and Diego will go find her," he said, keeping his hands planted firmly on his thin shoulders. "And Dave and Ben will be there, too. We'll go find her and bring her back here and talk it out like a family, huh?"

"I don't think that'd work, for some reason," Five muttered bitterly. 

"Yeah, probably not, but it's the best we've got right now," Klaus returned. 

"Maybe you should stay here. Maybe Allison should go with Diego instead, Klaus," Five added as if it was an afterthought, but an urgent one, said before Klaus had the chance to turn and leave. 

"Why?" He already knew why.

"You know why," Five stated. "It'd be even more dangerous for you."

Klaus groaned, loud and irritating, dramatic, head rolling back. "I'm fine," he insisted.

"Klaus, you can't see."

"Now that's rude," he accused, pouting. 

"Shut up. You know what I mean."

"I'm truly insulted that you'd pray on my weakness like that." He laid a hand over his chest, feigning pain. "Look, you rest, you keep all your organs internal; I'll go have a chat with our favourite knife-wielding brother." He gave him a final pat on the shoulder before turning, scurrying from the room before Five could keep him back. He lingered out in the hallway, wringing his hands. 

"Where is he?" He asked the air, swinging his head side to side.

"Kitchen," answered Ben, as swift as always. Klaus threw a grin in his vague direction, turned and began to stalk into the kitchen.

"Brother," he called in a sing-song tone, airy and light. "Where art though?"

"What are you doing, Klaus?" Diego asked. Klaus gravitated towards his voice.

"What we are doing, dear brother, is going on a trip to find our sister before someone gets hurt. Let's go, come on." He reached out until his hand came into contact with Diego's arm, fingers curling around his wrist and tugging him away from the counter. 

"Just us?" He asked. 

"Just us, everyone else is being idiotic. It's the dream team again." 

Diego heaved a sigh. He paused, as if sparing a moment to gaze up into the Heavens and request patience, before taking the lead. Klaus and Dave hurried to keep up with him, hurrying from the Academy as if he feared Luther might come down and grab them, preventing them from leaving. 

"Shotgun!" Klaus hollered, scrambling to get the passenger's side and all but throwing himself into the seat. He heard Dave scrambling into the back, settling in next to Ben, albeit unknowingly. 

"Seatbelt," Diego muttered. Klaus sighed, fumbling to find the seatbelt and clicking it into place. "Do you have any idea where she'll be?"

Klaus scoffed. "Not a single one," he admitted. He turned his head towards the backseat. "Any suggestions?"

"Do you think they'd be back in the city?" Ben asked. Klaus shrugged. "Could try his old house again."

"Maybe," he hummed. "Ben says to try his old house."

"You still got his address?"

"Is the file still in the backseat?" 

There was rustling and then Dave held up a mass of paper. "Still here," he declared, sifting through it. "Yeah, yeah. You're gonna want to turn left here..."

"Klaus, stay in the car."

Klaus, legs kicked out of the door, folded his arms across his chest and pouted. "No," he said, "I'm coming inside with you." 

"It might be dangerous," Diego stated.

"And that's why you need backup!" Klaus argued. "Look, I can conjure Ben and he can kick some ass; I'm not as helpless as you think I am, Diego," he retorted. He heard Diego sigh heavily, but eventually his footsteps fell back a couple of paces. 

"Fine," he said. "But you stay behind Dave and I. Got it?" 

Klaus rose eagerly to his feet, offering a half-hearted salute. "Yes sir," he said, and he did fall behind the two men, setting a hand on Dave's hip in front of him to follow him up a driveway. He could hear cars nearby; the house wasn't isolated, but it wasn't out in some back street, either. It had a pavement that led up to the porch and then the front door, of which they all avoided for Diego to peer around the windows.

"It doesn't look like anyone's home," Diego whispered, the words almost stolen by the wind. 

"Should we still look around? Just in case? Maybe he's not here, but Vanya might be hiding out," Dave offered.

"I agree with Dave," said Klaus. 

"Of course you do," Diego retorted sarcastically. "Alright, yeah. Stand back."

He and Dave did. They inched backwards, Dave with a hand out to stop him from tumbling right off the edge of the porch. Diego stood from his crouched position, stepped right back to the edge of porch, and took off running. Klaus and Dave flinched at the sound of glass shattering and Diego thudding to the floor on the other side of the door, and the two stood, hurrying to the door. 

"You okay there?" Klaus called. There was a quiet, slightly muffled groan in response. 

"I'm fine," Diego finally replied, peeling himself off the floor. Dave hissed a breath through his teeth and Klaus was grateful not to see the mess Diego had created. He heard Dave shimmy the door handle and he heard it creak open.

"Not to... be that kind of guy, Diego, but the door was unlocked," Dave stated, stepping in and guiding Klaus in too. Shards of glass rained down onto the floor as Diego brushed himself off.

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever. Let's keep going."

Klaus snickered, nudging Dave, but resigned himself to keeping his mouth shut. 

"Vanya?" Diego called, voice echoing off the walls. It seemed like a fairly big house, Klaus thought, for his foot caught a set of stairs once, and he wondered how he managed to afford both houses. 

There was nothing in the living room. A television that was still on, its volume simply turned onto mute. Leonard's stuff was still there; his shoes, his coat, his scarf, all still set around the house, untouched, but no one made a single sound. There was no creaking floor boards, no talking, no sign of anyone in the house besides themselves. Nothing upstairs, either. It was, in fact, the dining room that held something. 

"Oh, shit," Diego spluttered as he entered the room, stopping in the doorway and causing Klaus to walk into his back, then forcing him to take a few steps backwards.

"What is it?" Klaus asked, hand on his shoulder, peering over him as if he would be able to catch a glimpse of what had made him stop. 

"Oh, shit," echoed Dave, hand covering his mouth. 

"What?" Klaus repeated. "What's there?" There was no sound, nothing to indicate someone was there, but what he did get was a scent of copper. Tangy and strong, bitter on his nose, and his face screwed up.

"Yeah, I think Vanya can take care of herself," Diego muttered. 

"It's him," said Dave, squeezing his shoulder and tugging him away from the dining room. "Leonard. He's, uh, he's dead."

"Oh," breathed Klaus, blinking heavily. "How?"

"A lot of knives," Diego said with a twinge of bitter amusement. "Looks like Vanya can take care of herself. We ought to leave."

"Wait, wait, wait; Vanya killed him?"

"Must have," Diego replied. They began to retrace their steps outside, Diego taking the door this time, and Klaus deigned to take the backseat with Dave this time, much to Ben's voiced pleasure.

"Oh, shit. She wasn't there." 

"It did take a while to drive here," Dave added.

"So, in that time, Vanya, our sister who has just found out she's always had powers and has just killed a man, has gone missing, running free," Klaus let out a laugh, sounding rather detached. "That's, uh, you know, just what you want."

"Where else would she go?" Diego asked, though it was more of a thought, his fingers drumming over the steering wheel. 

"Home," Dave said.

"What?"

"Well, if I was in her position, I'd want to just go home to my family."

"He's right," said Klaus. "Except I hate all of you. But in theory, he's right. She probably went back to the Academy, or her apartment, maybe. I don't know where she lives."

"Back to the Academy, then," Diego sighed. He started the car up, seeming fed up - and Klaus couldn't blame him, the last week had been non-stop plot twists and stress - and tired. Klaus kept quiet for the ride back, too caught up in his thoughts. Vanya had killed Leonard. Had killed Austin. In some way that Klaus knew was sick, twisted in some sense, he wished he could see it. But that was the irony in it, he thought. He wouldn't want him dead if he could see. He wanted him dead because he couldn't see. 

Dave forced his hands to relax by interlacing their fingers together, thumb running over the back of his hand. Klaus let his head loll down to rest on his shoulder, head tucked beneath his chin. He hoped Vanya was alright, but a deep feeling of dread had nestled inside his guts and was only growing worse as Diego drove them closer to home. He couldn't imagine what it was like for her, couldn't fathom what was going through her head, but he knew she must be utterly terrified. He would be. And angry. He wasn't sure which emotion was worse under these circumstances. 

"You know Luther's not going to be exactly 'welcoming' if she's gone home," Klaus pointed out once, turning his face towards the front seats.

"Yeah, well. What's he going to do?" Diego returned. "Five wouldn't let him do anything."

"If Five's out of bed I'll have to kick his teenage ass. He needs to rest."

"You're not wrong about that," Diego snorted. 

 It was raining. He could tell that, drops of rain knocking against the window and the car, tapping, tapping, tapping. It felt as if the world knew something that he didn't. As if the world knew what was about to happen, or what had already happened and they had yet to find out about. It made him tense, but he could almost ignore it. Almost pretend he was in the back of a taxi, coming back from that Italian restaurant with Dave, almost pretend that everything was fine. He realised that he missed his apartment. Missed the normality of his and Dave's life (with Ben) and the absence of the stress that came with dealing with his family on a good day. 

Soon, he told himself. He just needed to get to Vanya, and everything would be fine.

Diego pulled into the street, and hit the brakes immediately. Klaus flew forwards, hitting the passenger's seat in front of him, while Dave got jerked against his seatbelt. 

"What the fuck, Diego?" Klaus snapped, groaning on the floor between the two seats. He hauled himself back up onto the backseat. 

He smelt it, though. Through the window cracked slightly open on the driver's seat, Klaus caught a whiff of smoke, bitter and acrid, stinging his nose and his eyes. Dust tickled his nose, threatened to make him sneeze, and he leaned forwards to grab Diego's shoulder. "What is it, Diego?" He all but pleaded, head swinging from the window to Diego, blinking rapidly as if he would suddenly regain sight. Frustration bubbled up in his throat, squeezing it tight, and he listened desperately as Diego swallowed.

"The Academy," he uttered. "It's... it's ruins. It's collapsed."

"What? What do you mean? Diego, stop fucking around-"

"It's gone, Klaus," Diego snapped, hands tight on the steering wheel. "Shit. Wait, wait; they're there. Allison and Luther - and Five. Come on." Diego threw his door open, scrambling out, and Klaus followed quickly. There was debris all over the street, and he tripped over it multiple times, until Dave grabbed him and forced him to slow down, taking each step carefully. 

"Diego! Klaus!" Called Allison, hurrying over to them. "Where were you? We thought - we thought you guys were in the house and-" she cut herself off suddenly, taking in a ragged breath. She reached out to touch them both, squeezing their arms. 

"We were looking for Vanya," Diego said. "We thought she would have gone to his house. He... she killed him. We got here as fast as we could... what happened, Allison?"

"Is Five okay?" Klaus asked.

"I have him," said Luther.

"I'm fine," Five groaned. "You missed a shit ton. But at least you weren't in the house, I guess."

"What happened?" Diego repeated. 

"It was Vanya," said Luther. "She came here. She..."

"Luther locked her up like a fucking animal," Five hissed. "Dad had some cage he used to keep Vanya in so she couldn't use her powers. She came to see me and Luther locked her in there. She broke out. It... it wasn't her. She looked possessed. We don't know where she's gone."

"Fucksake," Klaus hissed, running his hands through his hair. 

"She collapsed the entire house?" Diego breathed. "Where - where's mom? Is she here?"

Silence stretched. "Wh-where is she? Where's mo-mom?" Diego insisted, and Klaus heard as he paced over debris, kicking bricks and rubble aside. 

"Diego - Diego, stop." Allison hurried after him, and Klaus found himself suddenly weak in the knees, dropping down until he was sitting on some large piece of rubble. He could hear flames. Smoke caught in his lungs and he coughed into the palms of his hands. Distantly, he could still hear Allison going after Diego, grabbing him and forcing him to stop. Klaus could hear his strained breaths, could hear his stammer rear its head. He felt his throat tighten, his heart thud distantly beneath his ribs. 

It was obvious what happened. Grace had gotten left in the building - or she hadn't come out at all, Klaus wasn't sure she was able to leave the premises - and she was dead. He didn't need to see how bad the damage of the Academy was to know it. 

"I'm... sorry, Klaus," said Dave, his voice something quiet and gentle, his hand warm and heavy, grounding and comforting on his shoulder. Klaus shrugged lethargically, uncertain of what to even say. He scrubbed a hand down his cheek, rubbed at his eyes. For a long time, no one said anything. There was nothing to say. Klaus found himself speechless once more. He turned from him, stumbling to Diego's side, reaching out a hand. He could hear him still kicking debris away, ignoring Allison, as if he might be able to find Grace sitting, waiting for them. 

"Diego," he uttered, curling his hand around his arm. "Diego, stop. She's gone - she's gone, Diego."

Diego's muscles were tense beneath his hand, wound up, his chest stuttering with uneven breaths. He turned on him, nearly tripping over sliding rubble, shaking his arm momentarily free from his grasp. "What?" He snapped, though it lacked any real strength to it. "What do you wanna do? You wanna - wanna," his words staggered, Klaus could hear them torn away just before he could force them from his lips, and it made Klaus' stomach curl. "You wanna walk away from this? What about Pogo?" Klaus shook his head. Of course he didn't. He felt sick to his stomach with the idea that his mother was dead, crushed beneath the remnants of this prison they had all been trapped in. Of course he didn't want to just walk away."

"He didn't make it," said Luther, voice tinged with grief.

"What?"

"Vanya killed him."

"Vanya - she wouldn't have-"

"I saw it," Luther cut him off, his voice tight, restrained. "Just before we got out."

Diego disappeared beneath his grip, sinking to sit down. Klaus let him, his fingertips feeling rather numb. 

"I don't know where we should go," Allison said. She kicked a stray piece of rubble away. "We can't just... stay here."

"My place," said Klaus, words catching in his tight throat. He coughed, then lifted his head again. "My place. We need to regroup and Five needs to rest. We can go to mine and Dave's apartment."

"Is it nearby?" Luther asked. Klaus waved his hand.

"Not far. If anything, I think it's closer to Vanya's. Let's just go." 

They all stuffed themselves into Diego's car. Five laid out across Klaus, Dave and Allison in the backseat, after much arguing. Dave gave directions, awkwardly breaking the silence with them, until Diego pulled up on the street outside. Despite previously missing his apartment, Klaus didn't feel refreshed to be returning. He felt heavy, weights tied inside the marrow of his bones, and he felt as if he was a walking curse, just bringing all of the negativity and misfortunate right into his place of safety and rest. But there was nowhere else to go, and Five needed somewhere safe and warm to lay down, and they needed to regroup; gather their bearings, their wits all back together. 

"Welcome to my humble abode," said Klaus, hopping inside and holding the door open. "Make yourselves at home, I guess."

His siblings all shuffled in one after the other, and Five was deposited gently on the large couch in the living room opposite the television. 

"It's... nice," said Allison. Klaus snorted.

"It's no five star resort that you might be used to, but it's my place," he stated. 

"No! No, it is nice, Klaus. Really. It's very you."

"The mismatching everything does scream Klaus," Five commented from the couch. 

"That's what I was going for. Everything vintage is Dave's; he's an old soul."

Dave offered a soft chuckle and Klaus squeezed his shoulder. He did feel more comfortable here. He could plant his feet on the floor and know where he was. He found his way easily into the joined kitchen, hand lingering by the fridge. It was times when he was stressed like this that he longed for something stronger than the apple juice in the fridge. He was sure they could buy some whiskey now. He had no fear that he'd end up binging on alcohol again, not now, not with Dave by his side, but he longed for the buzz of it. 

Though, he supposed his stress levels at the moment surpassed the level of stress one would expect to want a drink with. It made him itch for something stronger. For some little colourful pills, maybe, or a few long lines that he could snort in a few seconds. 

The best he could do was to dig out his cigarette packet he knew he had left on the counter, and to light one with rehearsed ease. His siblings could simply deal with it if they didn't like the smell. 

"How did she do it, then?" He asked, words slightly mumbled around his cigarette. He propped himself up on one of the bar stools in his kitchen, cigarette held between his lips, smoke tumbling past them with each exhale.

"I'm not sure," said Allison. "She just... did it. She was just walking through the Academy and it was like an earthquake. The rooms exploded in on themselves. Then she just walked out." Allison let out a sigh, running her fingers through her hair. 

"We really fucked up without even realising, huh?" Klaus mused with a bitter snort. "Let's just... take some time. Coffee? Tea?"

"Not got any whiskey?" Diego asked sourly. 

"God, I so desperately wish," Klaus returned. "Sobriety is a bitch. I think I've earned a cheat day, though."

"Coffee's fine, then."

"One coffee?"

"Coffee."

"Coffee."

"Uh, coffee. Please."

"Alright, caffeine addicts," Klaus scoffed. He could hear Dave bustle about the kitchen, busy making all the drinks, and Klaus focused on finishing his cigarette and immediately following it up with another one. He tapped ash out into a nearby ashtray, moving on autopilot.

"Klaus."

"Hmm?"

"It is really nice to see you with a place of your own," Allison commented. A small smile tugged the corner of Klaus' lips upwards.

"Yeah, well, it was pretty unexpected of me," he mused. He did often times wonder where he'd be had the accident not happened. Would he be dead yet? Dead from some spiked drugs, on the floor of a piss covered bathroom floor of a dirty club, or frozen in an alleyway during a bad winter. Bouncing between homeless shelters, rehab, alleyways and stranger's beds, probably. He had only changed because he had been forced to.

He remembered, too, the many times Allison or Diego had said how they wanted to see him live peacefully. Settle down and help himself, live happily, healthily. He knew how they had all wished he would have lost that reckless lifestyle of his each time they caught a glimpse of him on the streets, each time he asked for money or stole it. And, truthfully, he didn't think any of them expected it to happen. Klaus certainly hadn't. 

"Seriously, Klaus," Allison said. "It is... really nice to see. I'm proud of you."

Klaus bit back the comment of forcibly having this happen to him, rather than by a choice of bettering himself. Nonetheless, he offered her a smile. "Yeah. It's nice," he replied instead. "I like it."

"Seriously, Klaus. I really am proud of you," Allison insisted, and her voice was wavering, emotional, and Klaus swallowed awkwardly. "Just - sometimes I never knew when I'd get a call that you were... you had died. I never knew if the last time I saw you would be the last time. I'm just... really proud to see you here."

Klaus, for a brief moment, felt anger flare inside himself. If she had been so worried, there where had she been? When he'd gone to the hospital after an overdose and only Diego had come. Where had she been when he needed to be resuscitated? When he had spent winters in cold alleyways? 

Instead, he bit the comments back. He stood up, and so did she, and she hurried over to wrap her arms around him, squeezing him tightly, chin resting on his shoulder. He didn't quite know what to say so he chose not to say anything at all. He hugged her back and waited for her to pull away, sniffling and returning to her seat. Klaus slumped back into his own barstool, a sigh expelling past his lips. 

Dave dolled the coffees out. He turned the television on to a low drone, then gravitated to Klaus' side again. As Klaus reached for his third cigarette, movements subconscious, he reached out to clasp his hands between his own. Klaus scowled, lips upturning in displeasure and irritation, but he slumped into the veteran's side, eyes slipping closed.

"How long have you had the apartment?" Diego asked. Klaus hummed.

"Got it a little before I met Dave. He really spiced the place up and I trust him when he says it looks good." He squeezed Dave's hand lightly, turning his face towards him with a small smile. He didn't regret meeting Dave at all. Would he take his sight back if it meant he never would have met him? He isn't sure. He doesn't think so. Dave came into his life and somehow managed to shed light into an otherwise dark and dull situation. Klaus might have gotten used to his situation by the time they met, but life hadn't been good. It had been tolerable. Each day melted into the other, breakfast and lunch and dinner, when he remembered to eat all three, became a blur, and he slept days away in the blink of an eye. He might have been able to make jokes and grin, but they were hollow, imposters of what they once had been. Life had simply become living with no real reason, and Klaus wondered what might have become of him. If he returned to alcohol in drugs or if he ran a bath and fell asleep in it. He didn't know, but he thought it was rather likely his path would backtrack to something self destructive. 

Klaus lit another cigarette and this time Dave let him. It balanced between his lips as he lit it, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in his lungs until it tickled and ached and he had to let it out before it spurred him onto a coughing fit. Ash trickled from the smouldering tip, dancing down to the ash tray he leaned over. 

Leonard was dead. Leonard, who was Austin, who had purposefully torn his sight from him. His fingernails scratch lightly over his forearms, an absent tic, a twitch, which he only interrupted to smoke. God, his mind had whiplash, and he didn't know which train of thought to chase. He slid his hand from Dave's grasp to run it through his hair.

"What time is it?" He asked. 

"Our clock broke," Dave stated. Klaus groaned, stamped his cigarette out, and rose to his feet. "I'm exhausted," he stated. "Like, put me into a medically induced coma kind of exhausted. Can we nap? Can we just have a collective nap?"

"You know how weird it is to be emotionally exhausted and unable to sleep it away," Ben commented from the seats. "It's really weird. Pretty stressful, too."

"That's not my fault," muttered Klaus. "Or," he continued, raising his voice, "are we talking this out?"

"I'm down for the nap," Diego stated. 

"I'm partially inclined to agree," Five grumbled. 

"We ought to talk about this," Luther said, but even he sounded reluctant. Klaus grunted his acknowledgement, trudging from the kitchen to fold himself into an armchair. 

"I don't know where Vanya would have gone," Allison sighed, scrubbing his hands down his face. 

"You'd think she would leave a trail of destruction in her wake, huh?" Klaus commented. "Considering, you know. Everything she did."

"She could be out of the city by now," Diego stated.

"Why would she leave?"

"Why wouldn't she?"

"Should we even be trying to find her?"

"Why not?" Klaus asked.

"She... it wasn't her, then."

"She was pushed over the edge," stated Five. "I doubt she's in her right mind to sit down and chat with us."

"We have to find her. She... you know."

"The apocalypse."

"Well, obviously it's her, isn't it? I know we have to find her and soon."

"How are we even supposed to do that, though? Even if we did, what then? Five, you can't lift your arms, Klaus is blind, she hates Allison for rumouring her, she's already murdered someone. Even if we get to her, how long have we got before she just slaps us all down like flies?"

"With that attitude, I give you three seconds," Klaus grumbled, picking at his clothes absently.

"Shut up."

"I'm just being honest with you, Di."

"Go ahead and just lay down and die, then, but there's an additional seven billion people that are going to die," Five snapped. "Look; Allison, Luther, Diego, why don't you head out and try and find something? Check her apartment, ask around her neighbours, even look for anything in Harold's house again. There must be clues as to where she went or where she'll be tonight."

"Right. Sure, yeah," Luther said. The floorboards creaked as he shuffled, shifted from foot to foot. "We'll do that and come back here for... six?"

"Sounds good," said Five, but there was a tightness to his voice, and had Klaus been able to see him and scrutinise him, he would see the haunted look shadowing his eyes. Flashes of ash and fire vivid on his eyelids, approaching in a handful of hours. Six left them little time, should this be the day fated to be their last. 

Klaus didn't bother complaining that he hadn't been added to the group leaving, discussing a plan of action. He was quite content with lazing on the armchair, legs dangling over the edge, feet crossed by the ankles, bouncing in silent rhythm. 

The three of them, with great reluctance, trudged out of the apartment. Klaus fumbled to find the television remote, stretching to the coffee table centred by the seats, and he raised the volume. He couldn't tell what exactly it was, but it wasn't the news at least, so he left it on. Some drama, he believed, that he'd turned onto mid-episode, entirely lacking the plot and storyline. Not as if he'd keep up with it.

"How do you feel, Five?" He asked, turning his head towards him. "Do you need anything? Any painkillers or anything? Should we check the wound?"

"Probably," Dave admitted. "Is that okay Five?"

Five grumbled something under his breath but Klaus could hear cushions rustle as he slowly sat up. "I suppose it's necessary," he uttered. 

"Thank you," replied Dave, in that pleasantly warm voice of his that no one could say no to. He settled next to Five, trained eyes and hands studying the wound before he proceeded to clean it. "Considering you were in a collapsed building, I think it's a miracle you didn't reopen the wound. Grace did a great job on stitching it up. The best thing to do, I think, is to keep it clean. I can't imagine it's not painful, though."

Five let out a defeated sigh. "What do you have?"

At least, Klaus thought, he wasn't trying to tough it out. Had that been himself, injured and a handful of hours from the end of everything, he would have jumped at the chance for any kind of drug he could get his hands on, let alone have it handed to him. He wasn't aware of any strong drugs in their house, though. No narcotics, nothing addictive, hardly anything about ibuprofen. Whether or not Dave had some kind of emergency first aid kit hidden somewhere - which wasn't unlikely given his paranoia about one of them being hurt - was a different possibility. Either way, Five was given something that made him less tense, let him breathe a little more relaxed.

"You think they're going to find anything?" He asked at one point, voice raised over the din of the television.

"They better," said Five. 

"It's not been that long," said Ben. "They have enough time to find something."

"You think you could find anything?"

"I'm fairly certain you got a concussion from hitting your head, and I can't actually go that far from you without feeling like a dying plant," Ben replied. Klaus rolled his eyes and huffed. 

"You say that as if it's my fault that happens," he retorted.

"I mean, technically it is."

"Ben?" Five asked. Klaus hummed.

"He's being a piece of shit. I think he forgets he's at my mercy sometimes."

Ben scoffed loudly behind him and Klaus smirked to himself before hunkering down into the armchair once more. "Anywho, so, Five, what say you about our predicament?" 

"I don't think we have enough time for me to voice all my opinions at the moment," responded Five, tone dry. Klaus pursed his lips. 

"Okay, never mind then. Do you have any television preferences? We haven't got Netflix or anything like that, but you can browse through what we do have," he offered.

"I don't care about watching TV."

"Never mind then," Klaus repeated, folding his arms across his chest.

"We just have to wait," he said, speaking as if the words pained him to say, and wait they did. 

They tried to eat. They conjured up a quick, easy meal and picked at it absently. Klaus listened to the television as characters Emily and Jordan fought, arguing over how Emily's father disapproved heavily of Jordan. The couple bickered back and forth about heartbreak and the power of love and woe is me, and Klaus longed to just turn it off, though he feared the awkwardness of heavy silence instead. He staved off his fatigue with a cigarette, ignored the way Five complained when smoke drifted too close to him. 

"Have you ever thought about getting a bigger apartment?" Five asked once, and Klaus raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm? Why? What's wrong with the place?" He returned, his eyebrows drawing together.

"I didn't say anything was wrong with it, but I don't assume you'd want to live in a one bedroom apartment off a back alley for the rest of your life."

"Maybe I do, who are you to say?" Klaus retorted, mocking offence, a hand laying limp over his chest before he dropped the act and shrugged. "Dave and I hadn't really spoken about it," he admitted. "What's your dream home, Dave?" He called. Dave came close, urging Klaus to shuffle on the seat to let him drop down next to him. 

"I'm not sure," Dave mused. "I always did want a farm when I was younger. A nice little cabin by a river or something, with a lot of cats. Big garden. It'd be a change from the city, at least."

Klaus hummed in thought, tipping his head up to face Dave. A cute little cabin out of the city, with a log or coal fire that he could lounge in front of, with a nice record player playing Dave's classics, with flower beds outside and maybe a greenhouse growing some strawberries and other things inside, with a river nearby that was relaxing to listen to and sit by on a nice blanket, and they'd have plenty of cats; at least one that would laze on their laps and purr contently, bumping their hands and their heads with its own. A big, fluffy cat. And maybe one hairless one so they could knit little sweaters for it. "That sounds nice," he admitted. The change from the city would be nice. No loud cars, no honking, no cussing and yelling, some clean air. Maybe, too, less ghosts that battered the thin wall he could put up. "Yeah, it'd be nice," he reaffirmed, bobbing his head in a pleasant nod. Waking up to fresh air and Dave and cats and peace; yes, it would be nice indeed. Maybe they could look into it after today.

If there was an after today.

"Never thought I'd see the day," Five joked sarcastically, but Klaus caught no malice in his words. A muffled down sincerity and fondness. Klaus offered a chuckle. 

"At least you can see the day now it's here," he joked in return. Dave's fingers found home in his hair, fingernails running along his scalp. 

"I wouldn't say being able to see that monstrosity of a couch you have is a good thing."

Klaus scoffed, fingers itching to grab a cushion and chuck it at him if only he wasn't hurt. "You're just old," he stated. 

"You never grew up."

"Thank God for that if I were to be anything like you, Grinch."

"It's not even Christmas, Klaus."

"Bah humbug. You're an all-year Grinch, then." Klaus stuck his tongue out at him, and could tell a rude gesture was being thrown in his direction. He returned it.

He returned his thoughts to the idea of a cabin. He wasn't overly bothered about having a large or a small house, though he supposed there would be no use for a large house; a two bedroom at least, he thought. Then Ben could have his own place to retreat to as well. He liked the idea of waking up to sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window, warm on his skin exposed from a fallen blanket, and one morning he might wake up to Dave's steady heartbeat beneath his ear, an arm heavy and draped over his torso, and he'd greet him with a husky darling and a heavy kiss to his cheek, or he'd wake up, bed empty, but to the sounds of The Chordettes echoing in from the kitchen, Dave humming along while attempting some new breakfast recipe. 

Klaus would sit down in the bathroom and listen to Dave's breathing as he held his chin in a careful, gentle touch, tilting his head this way and that as he touched up his facial hair. He'd crack open a window to let some fresh air in, allowing the sound of a bird's song to filter in, too, with the river trickling not too far away, and they'd go for a walk after breakfast. In Winter they'd doll up in scarves, fluffy and thick around their necks, and they'd light the fire, let the warmth seep into every room, and Klaus would pull Dave's attention from whatever movie they might have been watching with wandering hands and kisses with grazing teeth until Dave would let out an exasperated laugh and turn the movie off, giving in to Klaus' smirk and fingers tugging the buttons of his shirt.

They could have his siblings over for Christmas, and throw a ton of decorations around, set up a tree, play a ton of Christmas songs, and Klaus would make a show of shittily wrapping some presents and forcing Luther to try eggnog. Maybe they'd act like a real family for once. 

Yes, he thought. He would love that. 

He was eager for them to return, now. Despite the lethargy he had felt minutes prior, urgency gripped him like a vice. There had to be another tomorrow. He wouldn't allow there not to be. 

Thankfully, they seemed to return quickly. His door handle shimmied and then opened, the heavy footsteps of Luther flanked by Allison and Diego coming in quickly. Klaus was on his feet in moments, along with Dave and, evident by the barely-restrained grunt, Five, too.

"Did you find anything?" Klaus asked. 

"We think we might have," said Diego. "She's supposed to have a solo in her orchestra in a showing tonight."

"You think her attention will be on playing violin? Over everything that's happened?" Five asked dubiously.

"It's the only thing we could find, Five," said Luther. 

"It kind of makes sense," Klaus piped up. "She's always played violin. It's her fall back, her go to. We all have things like that when we're stressed. Hers is violin. Especially when she couldn't turn to her family."

No one had anything to say to that. Someone sighed. 

"We don't have much time," Five said. "We ought to leave now." 

"Five..." 

"Shut up. Don't. Let's go," Five insisted, shoving at Luther until he relented and let him past. He was slow going down the stairwell and getting back into one of the cars outside, and Klaus could tell that he was close to just attempting to teleport despite how obviously a bad idea that was.

"Where is she supposed to be?" Klaus asked, leaning forwards to peer between the front seats. 

"She's supposed to be performing in the Icarus theatre," said Diego.

"Oh, so full of a bunch of innocent people? That's good."

"Klaus."

"Or, actually, it'll be full of rich capitalistic pigs that probably like hunting endangered animals for fun. So, yeah, that is good, actually. Let's leave her to it."

"I never really understand how your thought process works, Klaus."

"You say that as if I do."

"That's a fair point," commented Ben. 

"Where even are you?" Klaus asked, craning his neck around to peer behind himself.

"Half of me is in the trunk. You lot stole all the seats."

Klaus snorted, a small smirk tugging his lips upwards. "What is it?" Asked Diego.

"Ben."

"Oh." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "How is he with this whole situation?"

Klaus hummed. "Glad I'm dead," said Ben. Klaus scoffed again, shaking his head minutely. "Happy to help however I can."

"He's happy to help," Klaus chose to say. "A bit annoyed there's no seats for him in the car." 

"Uh, sorry, Ben," Diego offered.

"Not accepted."

"He accepts it."

"I hate you."

Klaus threw a grin in his direction. His fingers drummed on his knees. He was half tempted to ask Diego to put some music on but decided against it. No one would appreciate that. 

It didn't take too long for the car to slow to a halt down the street from the theatre. They all piled out, quickly meeting Allison and Luther whom had driven in another car, congregating on the pathway. Klaus' elbow hooked Dave's arm, ears strained to catch the sounds of passing cars and busy streets. 

"What's the plan, then?" He asked.

"We go in, we don't give her a chance to fight back, and we do what we have to do," said Luther. Klaus quirked an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm with Luther on this one," stated Five. "We're past trying to save just one life now. We'll do whatever we have to do."

"Except for straight up just murdering her, right?" Klaus scoffed. "Let's go before anything happens-"

"Klaus," sighed Luther. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to come in."

Klaus shook his head, hands slapping onto his hips. "Luther, not this-"

"Klaus, you know you're not fit to be in there. And we need you and Ben to be lookout anyway, in case Hazel and Cha-Cha come back, and with any reinforcements." 

Klaus sighed, eyes closed, lips pursed. "But Five, the one who had to have his organs sewn back inside himself, can go on inside?" He retorted. "Fuck you, she's my sister too-"

"And if Hazel and Cha-Cha come back and we don't know, we're done," said Five. Klaus grit his teeth together, shaking his head and waving them away. "Fine. Go. Go." He urged them on when Diego began to speak, and, eventually, they turned on him and left, footsteps disappearing down the street, leaving Klaus, Dave and Ben lingering on the street.

"God," Klaus groaned, shaking his head in disbelief, shoulders slumping. "I'm probably more useful now than I was before, and really? Lookout?" His tongue dashed out across his lips, air exhaling through his nose in a huff. 

"I'm sorry," offered Dave. "But they do have a point about Hazel and Cha-Cha coming back."

"I know, but Five shouldn't be running about on half an hour's sleep and about half a pint of blood still left in his body," Klaus retorted. He paced until he could lean back against the wall of a building, running his hands through his hair before dropping them to his side. "See anything, Ben?" He asked, half sarcastically. For all he knew, his family were five seconds away from reappearing in front of him as corpses, to have the theatre explode in on itself, for the city to go up in flames at Vanya's will.

"Uh... nothing right now, no," replied Ben. Klaus inclined his head towards him with a sigh. 

"Just like old times," he muttered. Of course, he was usually lookout because of the fact that he was incredibly high and too strung out to do much more than yell if he saw something suspicious. And even now, clean as a whistle, he was back to lookout. It was a little more than frustrating. 

"Is there an open café nearby?" He asked. Ben scoffed.

"I don't think now's the best time," Dave commented.

"Might be the only time," Klaus muttered bitterly. He scuffed his foot across the floor, kicking aside stray pebbles. "Plus, I'm hungry, and I could go for a Frappuccino. A caramel one."

"Klaus." Dave sighed his name off his tongue, fleeting and quiet, and his arm snaked its way around Klaus' waist to pull him closer, flush against his side. Klaus let himself slump, let himself fist his hand into jacket. It was hard to think that in a matter of hours, if things went wrong, then this would all be gone from him. Torn from his claws violently, merciless, a whirlwind of death, and the idea made his hands shake. 

"We'll be fine," murmured Dave. "We will be."

"How can you be so calm when you say that?" He asked. Dave squeezed his side.

"Because it always has been. And it will be," he simply said. "I won't see it otherwise." One of his hands inched aside and then Klaus felt something being slid over his head, resting over his neck, and he reached a hand up to search for it. Cool metal, engraved, met his touch. Dog tags, the ones Dave never took off, only to shower. They sat around Dave's neck accompanied by the Chai pendant which, after a moment, soon adorned Klaus' neck too. Klaus knew what they both meant to him, and he felt his heart and his lungs stutter at the action. He leaned close, arms wrapped tight around him. While one hand curled protectively around the two gifts, the other reached out to clasp his cheek, holding him in place to press their lips together; a passionate thing, desperate, intimate. 

He pulled back to rest their foreheads together. "I love you," he breathed, shaking, wavering.

"And I love you too," replied Dave, and Klaus drank the words in, revelled in them, drowned in them. He had not loved another person the same way as he loved Dave; not so wholly, so completely, with his entire being as he did now. It was almost frightening, this crippling kind of love, but he would not regret it; not now, when he felt threatened that it may be stolen. 

"I don't want to break this up," said Ben, hesitant, creeping in. "But down the street there's a group of those masked gunmen coming, and I don't think it's a coincidence."

"Shit," he muttered, breaking their trance. "We've got to go in, Dave -"

"I've got you." Dave had his hand in his, leading him running down the pavement and, when it was clear, across the road, through some people, and right into the theatre, past all the viewers who were running out in a frenzied panic.

He could hear violin as soon as he stepped into the theatre. It was beautiful, haunting, entrancing, and almost made them all stumble. It hooked itself into the marrow of his bones and twisted, something visceral and gut-wrenching. 

They barrelled through a set of doors. "Klaus?" Hollered Luther, voice heavy and deep, raised above the mind-devouring orchestra.

"We have company!" He yelled back, and Dave continued to pull him away from the doors. Hardly a minute later and the doors were thrown open, dozens of footsteps invading. Dave pulled him down between the rows of chairs just in time for bullets to fly. Vanya did not stop playing her violin. She missed not a single note, didn't waver or hesitate. 

"Did you see everyone?" Klaus asked in a whisper, nudging Dave. 

"I - uh - Luther, Diego and Five were between the seats, I couldn't see Allison," he replied. "Vanya's on the stage."

"Ben? How many?" 

"God - quite a few," Ben replied distractedly. He could hear fighting; hear knives being thrown and landing in flesh, hear Luther reaching out and taking them out easily, could hear Five wrestle for a gun and turn it on others. And, when someone nearby was shot and fell, Dave crawled forwards, hands closing around the cool gun. 

"Dave? Are you okay?" Klaus hissed, hands over his head as a bullet whizzed by too close for comfort.

"I'm here," replied Dave, ever so slightly unsteady. He swallowed dryly, reached out to squeeze Klaus' shoulder. "I'm helping."

Klaus nodded stiffly, shifting onto his knees and lifting his head slightly. "Ben? Want to lend a hand?" He asked tentatively, and Ben's feet thudded together beside him.

"Do it," he said. Klaus' fingers curled into fists, shaking with concentration, but the tell-tale gasp of his siblings was announcement of his success. In addition, the way Their presence engulfed the room, ghostly Horrors curling Their death grip around the attackers, squeezing until they cracked, throwing bodies aside. 

"Lookout," breathed Klaus with a wheezy laugh, "lookout my ass."

The Horrors had Their own symphony of screams that melded into Ben's yelling as he tried to regain his own control over Them - for even in death They were Their own beings, and launched for the chance to be corporeal once more, to protect, to fight. 

And, with the death of the gunmen, They returned to Ben and the mystery that was beneath his skin, and Ben faded from view. Although he might be able to hold Ben corporeal for long, the Horrors demanded more energy for Themselves, too, and left Klaus as breathless as Ben.

He crawled forwards. There were still a few gunshots, still the sounds of fighting the remaining gunmen, but, above that still, was the never ending melody. It began to ring in his ears like thousands of church bells, bouncing in his skull almost painfully, and the air was static with energy. They were running out of time.

"Vanya!" He yelled, stumbling out of the row of seats and into the middle path, hands reached out either side to brush over the chairs to guide himself. "Vanya!"

"Klaus! What are you doing - get back!" Diego snapped, 

"Vanya - listen to me!" He continued on, pressing forwards until his head was pounding and his hands hit the edge of the stage, and he guided himself to the stairs onto the stage. Vanya felt electric as he neared. Alight with power, aflame and burning, and it ached to have his eyes open and in her direction even despite their damage. She gave no sign that she had acknowledged him. He pressed on.

"I know - I know you must be scared," he tried, and he wasn't even sure if she could hear him above her violin. "And angry, and I - I understand! I do!"

"Klaus, stop!"

"And we were never there for you when you needed us the most, but we're here now. Let me help you-"

"Klaus, she's too dangerous," blurted Ben, hand falling through his shoulder repeatedly. And Klaus knew. He could feel very well how alive with power she was, feet from him, surely. 

"You're my sister, Vanya, and I love you, and I'm sorry. Give me - give us - the chance to make it up to you - to help you." He reached out, and his hands found shoulders, shoulders that shook - no, vibrated - but became stiff, like a coiled spring, a coiled snake, beneath his touch. The violin made one long, ear-bleeding screech. 

"Klaus," she whispered, though it still seemed to echo.

"I'm here, Vanya. If you'll let me be," he continued. "Please. I love you Vanya, let me help."

The violin stopped. Her arms, slowly, lowered, and Klaus took it as a chance to pull her close despite the heat that radiated from her, almost burning. He pulled her to his chest, ignored the way the violin bow burned when it brushed his calf before falling to the ground, clattering, shaking the ground like a mini earthquake. A gasp came from Vanya, watery and pained, and her violin too clattered to the ground. Her fingers tightened into the fabric of his hoodie, suddenly scared, her knees wobbling, and Klaus lowered both of them to the ground. 

"It's okay," he hushed. He tried not to fear the way the room shook, creaked, groaned. Tried not to imagine it collapsing inwards. 

"Klaus," she insisted, though her voice was quiet, extremely so, and he could tell she was hardly half conscious, though he wasn't sure if unconsciousness would be better or worse. 

"We're here. We're here."

She went limp, her head lolling back over his arm, and the building continued to moan a protest while footsteps rapidly rushed up the stairs, skidding nearby.

"Klaus - Klaus, are you okay? What were you thinking-"

"I'm fine," he interrupted. "She's unconscious."

"The building looks like it's going to collapse," Five said breathlessly, and he wheezed ever so slightly with each breath, hiding it poorly. "Luther, carry her; Klaus, get up."

Vanya was gone from his grasp, lifted into Luther's arms instead, and Dave and Diego's hands curled around each of his own arms and hauled him upwards quickly. Something collapsed, crumbled behind them, and more followed on their heels as they stumbled over one another in a haste to get out. There was yelling, people crowded on the streets to watch the theatre and the disaster unfold with bated breaths. They stumbled out like a mess, ragged and reeling, flooding onto the street, disorientated, gripping one another tightly, wildly, like they once used to in missions as children when they were a family.

They sat in Klaus' apartment again. Vanya had not moved an inch and took residence in their bed, undisturbed, with no sign of moving, of that same power she had before.

Five was asleep, worn thin between his powers and his injuries and the stress. Klaus couldn't blame him. 

Allison returned slowly from Vanya's side. She had fallen in a wave of Vanya's powers and hit her head when Klaus and Dave had ran in, hence why Dave hadn't seen her, but she was back on her feet well enough now. Diego sat with his head bowed and Luther was sat looking between them all.

"I told her we're here for her," murmured Klaus, lifting his head slightly. "That's all she wants."

"We should have been there before," Diego muttered, shaking his head. 

"I told her that, too," said Klaus. "But we can't change the past."

"We're here now," Luther said. Klaus hummed, bobbing his head. 

"We're a family, you know?" Klaus mused, and he didn't direct it to their current situation only. 

Their family was a mess. Shambles, shattered shards of trauma and grudges that clashed with one another and butted heads together. A poor excuse of a functional family, but a family nonetheless. And they needed one another. Despite whatever trepidation they might have held upon reuniting for the funeral, they were together, just as Reginald once wanted, even with one sibling dead, one blind and two unconscious, and now perhaps they had the chance to heal and act like a family. Or they might not have to act, for once, facades and numbers and Academy crumbling and leaving them to be one another's sibling, and not a competitor, for the first time. But only time would tell.