Work Text:
Shit. She'd have to call him. They'd just picked up their infamous junkie again. This time, it was only public inebriation, but she'd made a deal with Diego ; She'd always call him when they picked his brother up, and he'd always bring good coffee. They'd made the deal before they broke up, but she wasn't one to back out of a promise. It didn't mean the two brothers would leave the precinct together, because sometimes, the charges were just too serious. And each time she'd had to watch Diego leave alone, she couldn't help but feel like shit when she'd notice his shoulders slump down, and his damn grin fade away.
He was here in a matter of minutes, and she watched him stumble a bit on his way over. He must have just woken up. Something wasn't right. What was it ? His hands were empty.
“You didn't bring coffee.” It had come out far less threatening than she'd wanted. No answer. No witty remark. Weird. He plopped down in the guest chair at her desk, and shoved his forehead in his hand. “Rough night ?”
“You could say that...” He finally said, voice uncharacteristically soft. His eyes emerged from behind his sliding hand. “Sorry about the coffee.” His hand settled under his chin, and a tiny smile stretched on his face. “I'll bring double next time, promise.” She wanted to say something dry, maybe an insult, or just a witty answer. But he genuinelly looked like shit, and she wasn't an ass.
“You'd better remember.” She prepared the papers for Klaus' release, filled them out quickly -They'd done that so many times, she didn't have to ask him for the informations anymore- And handed the file to him. “You just have to sign.” She nudged the file in his direction, and it took him a second to react. “You okay, Diego ?” She asked at last. He moved slower than usual, and seemed to struggle to focus on the papers. “Hangover ?” He didn't answer. Nevermind. She got up to get Klaus from the holding cell. The skinny guy was nursing his legs in his arms, swaying gently in a non-existant breeze. He seemed in his own little world, but as soon as she'd stopped in front of the cell, he looked up to her with a big, drunk smile on his face.
“Heyy, lady~” He sounded like he'd kept porridge in his mouth for an hour, and she cringed in disgust. “Ben-ny says hii.” His head lolled backward, and he took a big gulp of air before getting up. It took him a while to stabilise. “Jus' need to... calibrate, is all,” he slurred, wildly stepping back and forth to find his balance. The door was already open when he was finally somewhat sure on his feet.
“Your brother's here for you,” she simply said, and it never ceased to amaze her, seeing the wide eyes of disbelief paint the man's face. He never quite believed it, never got used to the fact that someone was there for him. She sighed, and with a hand around his alarmingly thin arm, guided him to her desk, making sure he didn't bump into the walls.
Back at her desk, Diego had his eyes closed and his head up toward the ceiling. He wasn't moving an inch, and the contrast with his brother swaying in her clutch was almost fun. If something wasn't tugging the back of her brain. A weird feeling, unsettling her. She focused on Diego's form, truly still, unnaturally even.
He wasn't breathing. Shit ! She let go of Klaus, and she didn't notice him bumping into her partner's desk. She put her hand in front of Diego's mouth to make sure, but there was nothing.
“He's not breathing !” She finally shouted out, before moving to take his pulse. Nothing. Fuck ! “No pulse either, call an ambulance !” She snapped at the guys who'd crowded around.
“Ts'allright...” She almost missed Klaus say. She decided to dismiss it, and plopped her ex lover on the ground, ready to give him CPR. “Nonono, don' do that...” She felt a weak hand on her shoulder as she started compressions. “Hey, it's... S'okay, he doesn't...” She pushed him off with a bit more anger and strenght than she should have, but she didn't really care. “Hey ! Lis'sen, he doesn'... Yeah yeah, i'm focusin'... He doesn' need to breath !” She froze for a second, but soon started compressions again.
“What ?” She couldn't help but ask.
“T'is his power, y'know. He doesn' breath.” She hesitated once more.
“What do you mean ? What about his pulse then ?”
“What pulse,” he snorted, tone almost comical. Then he dropped his voice and straightened his back, obviously imitating some pompous jackass. Their father, maybe ? “Number Two doesn't have a heartbeat ! Fascinating !” And then Klaus fell into a feat of laughter, almost losing his uncertain balance. “Wha' ?” He suddenly asked to thin air, his laugh slowly stiffling to a halt. What should she do ? Stop the CPR ? But Kaus was drunk off his ass, should he even be trusted ? “'Kay, I'll ask your stupid question...” He answered to the air, before turning to her. “Hey is he, y'know... like cold and stuff ?” She couldn't help but frown.
“What ?” But unconsciously or not, she reached at Diego's forehead. “No, he's... warm. I mean, he's normal warm.”
“Huh...” Klaus looked like he was straining to think now. “That's not... good right ?” He wasn't talking to her. “Hey, it's not...” He stumbled to his brother's side, the other cops too weirded out to even think about stopping him. He moved her hand off Diego's forehead and put his own there. “Yeah, he's like... normal for us, it's not good, right ?” He had his attention on something that noone else knew about. She was making the connection, but she wasn't there quite yet. Not ready to really accept it yet. “Wha' do we do, again ? The... The 'Two's sick protocol', it's huh... Shit, what is it again ?” He pulled at his hair, back on his feet again. “Yeah, I'm focusin', yeah...” He turned to her with wide eyes. “We need a big tub an' ice, right. Like lots of it, 'cos he's not supposed to be warm an' all.”
“We don't have a tub or lots of ice, Klaus, this is a police precinct.” He froze, his attention once again pulled somewhere in front of him.
“What do we do, Benny ?” His voice was almost a whisper. He listened. God it was weird to even think about accepting it. He was listening to his brother's ghost. Diego had talked to her about that. “No nononono, we're not going home, I'm not going home, I'm not...” He had started to pace around, still pulling at his hair anxiously, but he was abruptely stopped mid pacing. He tensed up, said nothing, but let out a whimper, his face contorting into an ugly mess as he started sobbing. “Nooo, I don't want him to die,” he whispered, still listening to Ben. “Okay...” He wiped off his tears, and finally turned to her again. “We have to get him to mom,” He sobbed, his attention once again somewhere else. “Huh, okay, will you take us there with your car ?” He asked her. “I can't really drive,” he added like it wasn't painfully obvious he was struggling to keep upright. She didn't have to think about it.
“Of course, yeah.”
She and two of her colleagues grunted as they made their way to her car, A limp and now slightly sweating Diego Hargreeves in their holds. They put him in the back of the car, where Klaus joined him, putting Diego's head on his lap.
“Are you sure it's the right thing to do ?” the blond officer asked her, his eyes firmly fixed on the pair at the back of the car. “I mean, the ambulance is coming, and it's really weird, and that guy, he doesn't seem right in the head...”
“It's okay, Parker, they're... You know who they are, right ?” He thought about it for a second.
“Yeah, I guess...”
“Hey,” Klaus interrupted, “we should like, hurry, he's shiverin' an' all.” And like that, they were gone.
It didn't take long to get to their house. Mansion. Christ, she kept forgetting about the size of that place. Klaus ran out of the car, and entered through the iron gate and the huge entrance door. As she was trying to get Diego's limp body out of her car, she heard shouting inside. Klaus' voice. He came out with a blond guy following him, a disoriented look on his face, like a puppy being scolded for something he didn't do.
“Yo, get'im in there,” Klaus told the newcommer, who didn't hesitate for too long. He almost shoved her out of the way, but he seemed to remember something at the last second.
“Huh, hi, will you move out of the way ?” She did. Because she was pretty sure this man was Luther Hargreeves, the strong one. The annoying asshole One, Diego had told her. The man picked his brother like he was picking a bag of groceries, and proceeded to take him inside.
“Mom ! Two's sick protocol !” He yelled, his voice so loud it reverberated in the empty street. What was she supposed to do now ? She didn't have time to ponder too much.
“You comin' ?” Klaus asked, already halfway through the gates. Yeah, she was coming.
She'd never come in here. It was huge, creepy, old and just like she imagined a rich asshole's house. But she didn't linger too much. She followed Klaus down corridors and stairs, all richly decorated, and ended up in what could only be described as an infirmary. A young, beautiful woman was already examining Diego, unwavering concentration guiding her flawless, graceful movements.
“Luther dear,” she said with a voice so soft it took her by surprise, “go fetch the ice and prepare the tank, would you ?” The man didn't answer, simply vanished.
“Mom, will he be alright ? Where's father ?” Klaus looked like he was trying to disappear in a corner of the room, hugging himself and shuddering.
“Your father is out on a trip.” Klaus let out a sight of relief and crumpled to the floor. Should she go to his help ? She decided against it. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact, that this young lady was their mother. Their mother looked younger than all of them. And now she was stripping her son down.
“Klaus dear, will you help me get your brother ready ?”
“Huh... yeah,” he said, trying but failing to get back on his feet. She stepped forward.
“I'll help you, ma'am.” The woman gave her a smile, and proceeded to tell her what to do. It was pretty straight forward. Getting Diego naked, taking off his piercings, trying not to panic seeing him still as death, and assist with cramming his sweating limbs inside a... what she could only describe as a surfer's wetsuit. And then, with the same ease as Luther, the too young of a mother picked her son up and went through a door at the back of the infimary. She obviously followed.
This room consisted only of a tank. A huge, cylindrical... shark tank was her best guess. And Luther and a dressed up chimpanzee were filling it with ice cubes and water.
“Grace, how is he ?” The chimpanzee asked with a british accent, never stopping to shovel ice into the tank.
“He isn't good, I'm afraid, but I couldn't determine the cause yet. I'll have more time to find out once he's cooled down.” With that, she delicately rose her fully adult son above her head, and put him down into the freezing water. The body of her ex sank at the bottom, as if he was a cement brick or something.
“And who might you be, young lady ?” Asked the chimpanzee, a wrinkled hand firmly holding a delicately decorated wooden cane. He was looking at her above a pair of tiny reading glasses, a look of worry on his traits.
“Pogo.” Was all she could say. What else could she say. When Diego had told her about Pogo, he had missed out the fact that he was an intelligent, british sounding, talking monkey. Chimpanzee. He had insisted on chimpanzee.
“She's Diego's cop lady... friend.” Klaus had come in and made his way to the tank, where he looked, anxious, at his brother.
“Master Klaus !” Pogo said, before going to hug his... what, pupil ? “It is good to see you.” Klaus didn't answer. He seemed out of juice. In fact, she wasn't feeling too good either. Maybe it was seeing the man she'd loved at the bottom of a water tank, lifeless, or the impossibly young mother, or the talking butler chimpanzee.
“What's happening ?” She managed to ask anyway. Pogo turned to her, and considered her for a second.
“Would you care for a cup of tea ?”
No more than ten minutes later, there were four chairs and a small table on which was laid tea and biscuits brought into the room. A few complex looking machines hooked around Diego's head made sounds and recorded what was probalby brain activity on a large piece of paper. She sat there, completely dumbfounded and incapable on saying anything.
“Monitoring Master Diego's health is quite tricky. It's a good thing he's rarely sick.” Pogo was explaining. Luther had his arms and legs crossed, facing the tank, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. “He doesn't breath. At least not consciously, and only in the purpose of speaking, you see. His metabolism is quite the mystery still.” Klaus was plopped on his chair, legs once again protecting his chest, and he had finished biting every nail on his left hand. “As a result of not needing to breath, he seems to not need a heart beat either. We're still not entirely sure he has a heart, you see. We drew the line there.” How had she never noticed ? That was something worth noticing. “His body temperature is quite lower than normal. Around 28° Celsius instead of the normal 37,2°C. We still don't really understand why.” Sure, she'd always complained about his cold hands and feet. But that ? “Have you noticed anything when he came to you ?” Her gaze had trailed back to Diego. Still unmving, still lifeless ; Still. It felt like a bad horror movie, where a mad scientist created bodies and put them in giant test tubes, left to float about like foetuses. She turned her head to Pogo, and it was no help to see the chimpanzee staring intently at her.
“ Like what ?” She asked, because that's all she could ask at that time. Grace was studying the results of the brain scan, and she was studying Grace.
“Did he seem to move unusually, maybe ? Did he show weakness of the limbs ? How was he acting before he passed out ?” Pogo's voice was soft, and despite his obvious concern, he kept his tone leveled.
“Now that you say it, he... Seemed like he just woke up, or hungover, you know ? He...” She struggled not to gesture at Klaus, “Like he struggled to walk straight.” Pogo's eyes narrowed and he turned to Grace.
“Balance troubles ? Have you checked his ears maybe ?” Grace turned heel and reached to her son down in the tank, seemingly not minding the icecold water while plundging her arms in there. From where she sat, she couldn't see what the woman used to check Diego's ears.
“Oh my ! It's an ear infection. Nasty little things, those,” she chimed, before dropping her son back in the tank, and then she was out of the room.
It took a few days of treatment before Diego woke up. But he was finally out of of the tank and on the infirmary's bed, still hooked on the brain machine -she couldn't for the life of her remember the name of that machine- and eating a bland looking porridge with intense focus. When he noticed her, he simply smiled back.