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Hargreeves went on a business trip roughly once a month; what this business entailed, Diego wasn’t sure - nor did he care to find out. These trips did, however, mean Diego could visit his mom without having to face that monster. He missed his mom so much that sometimes it legitimately hurt. Like, real pain, deep in his gut. It was the third Sunday of the month, around the time Hargreeves was normally away. Diego had driven by to scope out whether his (clearly over compensating for something) car was in the drive. It was not.
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Diego pulled out the spare key Pogo had kindly given him, after he had promised to never let Master Klaus know of it’s existence. Turning the key to unlock the grand doors still made his stomach churn, even though he knew Hargreeves wasn’t home. Being faced with the umbrella stained glass windows made his identical tattoo feel like a burn against his skin.
—
Entering the mansion, the place was empty. Diego thought he could faintly hear Pogo’s cane clicking against the floor, but he couldn’t be sure. Mom was nowhere to be seen. He knew where she would be. Diego sauntered over to the portrait gallery. He’d been to visit countless times by now, yet it still felt bizarre and unnerving to walk around the place like this. He still felt on edge, always ready to be yelled at for being a bad Number Two. He couldn’t help but think of all the ways he could destroy the place in Hargreeves’ absence.
Mom was sat peacefully, relaxing and recharging. “Mom.” Diego gently patted her shoulder. “Oh, Diego.” she turned to face him, a large smile lighting up her face. At times like this, it made him feel bitterly humoured that people could say she was a machine... there was clear love in her eyes. Machines can’t love. “Come with me,” she politely ordered, standing up and straightening her skirt “I’ll make pancakes.” she cupped his face in her hand, looking at him the way only a mother can look at her son. Diego let out a small sigh, “Sure mom, that’ll be perfect.” he replied. Diego’s body was a temple, it really was, but if his mom wanted to make him pancakes - he would happily eat every last bit.
—
“Mom, do we have any chocolate milk?” Diego looked up from his nearly empty plate to see Luther stood in the kitchen’s threshold, wearing only his robe and briefs.
“Still in your jamies?” Diego asked with a smug grin, “It’s 4:30 in the afternoon.” he passive-aggressively deadpanned. Luther was clearly bashful and taken aback by Diego’s presence.
“I’m resting today, Number Two. Some of us actually go on real missions.” He was clearly trying to sound confident and superior, but Diego could tell he was deeply embarrassed. Diego let out a humourless chuckle, dropping his fork loudly onto his plate. Mom startled and turned to him, clearly torn between whether she should inform Luther of their chocolate milk stock, or ask Diego if he was okay.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” She asked with a smile, her head turned to the side. Diego couldn’t help but feel complacent that their mom had addressed his feelings first. Her eyes were searching to find the reason for Diego’s new foul mood “Were the eggs overdone?” She enquired, looking apologetic. Diego breathed out, fiddling with one of his many knives. “No, mom,” he sighed “they were perfect.” Diego stood and walked around the counter to his mother, kissing her on the cheek “Thanks, mom”. He grabbed his keys and jacket from the counter top and gave Luther a glare on his way out of the room.
—
“Master Diego, leaving so soon?” Pogo asked in the entrance hall, a look of curiosity on his face. Diego stopped his pacing towards the door, and rolled his neck. “Yeah, I don’t really wanna see One half naked, that’s more Three’s thing.” he sneered. He knew he had no reason to be pissy at Pogo, but Luther just had that effect on him. Pogo recoiled a little at the clear disdain in Diego’s tone, as well as the repugnant image his comment had conjured. “I... I will hope to see you soon, Master Diego.” Pogo said, crossing his hands atop his cane. “Yeah... you too.” Diego murmured before turning to head out of the door.
“Two.” Luther exclaimed. God fucking dammit. All Diego wanted to do was leave this god forsaken hell hole of a house. “What?!” He snapped, letting go of the door handle and fiercely turning around to face Luther - who was now holding an entire gallon bottle of chocolate milk.
“You need to stop coming.” Luther said stonily, looking down his nose at Diego. “What?!” Diego repeated, pure rage showing in his scrunched up face. He stepped towards Luther, hand perched on a knife. Luther didn’t budge an inch. “She’s my m-mother.” he spat out, feeling ashamed at his brief stammer.
“Yes, and dad is your father.” Luther said like the good little soldier he was “I’m obliged to tell him, Diego. This is his home, not yours. You chose to leave the academy, and you’ll have to deal with the consequences.” Luther took a large chug straight from the bottle of his chocolate milk.
Diego paused momentarily, trying to make sure he didn’t stutter. His scowl burned into Luther. “You’re wasting and risking your entire life to be a daddy’s boy for a man who doesn’t even love you.”
Luther stopped drinking and slowly lowered his bottle. “Don’t talk about him that way.” Luther crept towards Diego, his hands forming tight fists “He gave us everyth-” Luther hissed. “He bought us.” Diego interrupted, pulling a knife slightly out of his holster “that, is not a father.” he moved closer and squared up to Luther.
“You’d be some poor kid in a Mexican orphanage if it weren’t for dad.” Luther scoffed, raising his voice close to a shout.
“Sounds fucking perfect to me,” Diego yelled “better than being a child soldier to that monster.” Luther raised his fist to punch Diego in the jaw, when Pogo slammed his cane into the ground.
“Children!” he hollered. Luther slowly lowered his fist, and Diego tentatively placed his knife back in its holster. “That is quite enough.” the chimp frowned.
“Sorry, Pogo.” the pair murmured in unison - their body language deflating. Mom rushed through in large striding steps “Is everything okay?” She questioned, scanning her children with her lovingly concerned eyes.
”Yeah, mom. I was just leaving...” Diego placated, with an unconvincing smile. “Good fucking riddance, Space Boy.” he groaned under his breath, Luther’s pseudonym smothered in mocking. He wasn’t going to stop seeing mom. He would find a way, no matter what that idiot did.