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In the mirror, your reflection stares back at you. Elliot had offered to lend you one of his ex-wife's old dresses, but you declined, opting to wear one of the mod dresses you grew so fond of during your short time in the sixties. It's a simple, long-sleeved, black and white one - good enough to blend in amidst the politicians and their socialite wives at the Mexican consulate without drawing any suspicion.
Tonight’s little reconnaissance mission reminded you of your early days, back at the Academy. Your father liked exploiting your phasing abilities when infiltrating somewhere discreetly was necessary. By the time you were thirteen, getting in and out of heavily secured buildings was, quite literally, child’s play - that’s how you got your infamous moniker, The Shadow. Slipping in and out of places, unseen and unheard, like a thief in the night. Between your intangibility and Five’s jumping through space, even the strongest fortress was no match for the Umbrella Academy.
Of course, that was before little Number Five was gone and nothing was ever easy again. In the summer following Ben’s untimely death, after you’d saved every penny from your allowance and some more, you left home - and shortly after that, you took what few possessions you had, packed it all in a bag and got in the first plane leaving Detroit to wherever it would take you.
You’d spent the last thirteen years travelling around the world, working odd jobs here and there, laying low and moving on to the next place until you got too close to revealing your powers accidentally - or when you just got bored. You learned to be a shadow in different, more creative ways, It took another death in the family - a much less tragic one - to make you stop running and go back home.
While you're taking one last look at your last minute attempt at an outfit, adjusting the sleeves and the skirt, another reflection appears behind yours in the full length mirror as the door opens.
"Nice dress."
You wrinkle your nose at Diego, who's leaning on the doorway, through the mirror. He, in turn, throws his best lopsided grin your way.
"Nice suit."
"I feel like a goddamn clown." He scowls, looking down at his haphazardly put together suit and tie, another courtesy of Elliot.
"Maybe you are one."
After your talk in the kitchen last night, your attitude toward Diego has improved. Lightened up, in a way. You were at peace with resigning yourself to the sidelines and let him be, unaware of your true feelings - not before shedding a tear or two while you tossed and turned in your makeshift bed on the floor. You did recognize it was probably selfish on your end, keeping him in the dark, but the rejection that could come with the admission of your affections was something you couldn’t bear to even think about.
So, you promised to keep a safe distance and concentrate your efforts into helping Five with anything he needed to get your family back home, where you belonged. There, you knew that inevitably each of the eight of you would go your separate ways again - and much as that broke your heart, for you would miss them too much - it was better than entertaining the thought of anything too optimistic. Once everything was back where it belonged, you could continue with your life of denial and quiet desperation on your own.
“I’ve been called many things but a clown is new.”
“If you weren’t involved in so much clownery, then maybe I wouldn’t call you that.”
Diego fake laughs at your retort. “You know it’s true.” You insist - and you think he will continue buying into your banter, but he gets quiet all of a sudden.
He takes one good look at you before asking “Do you need help zipping up?”
“Oh.” Turning your head back, you look down to see that you still have to pull your zipper up, the final touch on your dress before you got interrupted - it was open in the middle, leaving your bra and some of your naked back exposed. Oh my god. You thought to yourself, while the blood rushed to your face. Why do I do this to myself?
“Yeah… If you want to…” The words come out of your mouth before you think about them. So much for keeping a safe distance, but you were only human, and the chance of having him close, if only for a moment, was too good to resist - your heart could deal with the damage later.
Before you turn around again, you see Diego stepping forward, his all knowing eyes not leaving your face. Damn him and his intuition - out of all of you, you can admit Diego isn't the smartest, but he is very at reading people. You feel one of his hands rest on your shoulder and the other delicately - or dare say, lovingly - brush your hair off to the side, his fingers leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. Finally, he leisurely pulls the zipper all the way up, as if he has all the time in the world. You don't know if you want to run out of there or if you want to spend as much time as you can basking in his attention before it's teared away from you.
When it's done, you turn to face him, hoping he will take a hint and end your misery, but Diego doesn't move an inch.
"Thank you." You say in a whisper, meeting his eyes.
"No problem." He whispers back in a joking manner.
You laugh and it's the lightest you've felt in months. While you still have your eyes closed, Diego leans in and places a kiss on your forehead. It’s a blessing and a curse, all at once. Your heart flutters as your eyes open again, but before you can say anything else, you hear Five's demanding voice in the other room "Is anyone ready yet?"
Diego rolls his eyes and you rush to grab your boots from the floor, thankful for having an obvious escape from your previous position before you did something you’d regret. While scrambling to put your shoes on, you throw a “C’mon, we need to go!” in Diego’s direction.
If you’d looked back, you would see the look of disappointment distorting his handsome face.
You’re the first one downstairs - still avoiding the sight of Diego and Lila at all costs, even if that made you feel really stupid, deep down - and that gives you a very welcome moment alone.
Standing outside, facing Commerce street, you light up one of the cigarettes you keep hidden in your purse - for emergencies. The smoke that burns your lungs soothes your nerves, makes you forget your troubles between drags.
Distracted by the movement of cars, you almost miss the characteristic sound of Five's blinking right beside you. The boy - who's not really a boy at all - stands there in contemplation of the street too, with his hands buried in his pockets and his usual arrogant stance.
"These are gonna kill you, you know."
"Not before our family does." You throw back. "Besides, the amount of coffee you drink is gonna fuck up your old man heart one of these days, so you have no right to tell me that."
Five chuckles. "We all have our vices."
Silence fills the air for a beat, and Five turns to you. "If you were hiding something, and if that something could possibly get in the way of us stopping the impending doomsday, you would tell me wouldn't you?"
His discreet interrogation makes you sigh. You could hide all you wanted from Diego, but Five was a whole other story.
Taking your time to answer, you take a last, long drag at your cigarette, blowing the smoke in the air and crushing what's left of it beneath your white boot and into the concrete. "I wouldn't compromise us like that, don't worry about it."
"But you are hiding something, aren't you?"
"Why do you need to know?"
"Denial will get you nowhere."
"It's gotten me lots of places, lately." You mumble under your breath, tired of this conversation already.
"Don't play dumb, Y/N, it doesn't suit you." He grumbles. "You isolate yourself from everyone, even Diego, who you used to be attached at the hip with, if I remember correctly and you expect me not to think something is wrong?"
It crosses your mind that this is Number Five's way of showing he cares about you. Sometimes you forgot that under all that hostility and general bad mood was a caring brother that wanted to see all of you safe. And that is what stops you from lashing out on him.
"Look, I'm just overwhelmed, okay? We all are." A half lie, better than the whole truth at this point. "...and I needed some time alone, that's all."
Five nods only once, contemplative.
"Thought you were smarter than this."
Without warnings, he blinks back into the house. You close your eyes and breathe out, before coming back in, too.
"Though I was too."
The music from the mariachi band fills your ears and its waltzing rhythm travels through the air and hums inside your ribcage. You let the melody from the trumpets sway you while you stay in place, out of the way, watching the couples dance in the middle of the room.
Sneaking into the gala was as easy as you expected. One would think that a party filled with important people would have better security, especially where secret meetings and conspiracy were taking place. Alas, here you are, in a fancy little dress in a room full of fancy little people, trying not to do anything too stupid, as Five advised you and Diego, before he left off upstairs.
There was no sign of Reginald Hargreeves on the first floor, at least as far as your eyes could see, so you concerned yourself with enjoying the free champagne and the music before inevitably facing the man behind your deepest childhood traumas. No pressure, right?
You see Diego approaching from your peripheral, causing you to curse inwardly. You expected this to be a good way to distract yourself from, well, him, but it was easier said than done.
He stands beside you, then, too close for comfort again. If you didn't know better you would say he was doing it on purpose. At the same time, though, you can't deny having him around brings you comfort - because when he is not, it's like something is missing.
The two of you stand in silence, appreciating the music, until he leans in and asks "Wanna dance?"
"Oh no!" You refuse, remembering all of the times you stepped all over any of your dancer partners' feet. Too many for your own good. "You know I can't."
"C'mon…" Diego coaxes you, pulling you by your arm, closer to where the guests were dancing. "Just one dance, I promise I won't be upset if you step on me."
He has the audacity to wink at you - and you can't help but melt.
Muttering a "Fine, just one dance…", you let go, then. As much as you try, you can't fool yourself - Diego could convince you to do pretty much anything when he pleads with those cute brown eyes of his. Your resolve only went so far.
It happens too fast.
When you least expect, he wraps his arm around your waist and you're pressed flush against his strong chest. His other hand takes yours and soon Diego is leading you through the dance floor, moving you with the music. It's too much all at once. He invaded every one of your senses, but you can't bring yourself to pull away. The two of you talk and laugh and twirl and the world dissolves around you.
Here, in his arms, you feel loved. You feel seen - and it terrifies you. In a bold move, while you're distracted laughing at one of his jokes, he dips you.
"Hey." He smiles. His face is right above yours, your noses touching and your breaths becoming one.
It feels like a cruel joke. As if life is giving you just a little taste of what you want the most, just to tear it away from you later and watch you suffer. Reality comes crashing down on you, hard.
"Switch." You manage to say, trying to keep your voice controlled through the rising panic that is growing within. He does as you ask, and you're fully on your feet again, you remove yourself from his arms.
"One dance, okay?" You say as you remove yourself from his arms, ignoring how empty you feel once you do. "I'll go get some air."
You don't look back as you make your way through the crowded house, your vision blurred by the tears that rise without warning. Once you find the french doors that lead to the backyard, you stop.
The dam breaks. You try to keep as quiet as you can as you cry, praying that no one hears you. So much for telling Five you wouldn't compromise the mission, now you're letting your feelings get the best of you.
It's stronger than you, though, there's no choice in the matter. You tried to be rational about it, bury it deep inside you, but it was swallowing you whole, and there was no turning back now.
"You need to stop doing this."
Diego's voice startles you. He's there, and he doesn't look happy.
"Why did you follow me?" Is what you manage to say, wiping your eyes. There's no use in pretending you weren't crying.
"You need to stop avoiding me, Y/N. I don't think I can take another day of this."
"I'm not avoiding you."
"You're not avoiding me?" He moves towards you slowly, but with purpose. You step back, then, until you feel your back hit the wall behind you. Your eyes widen as he places himself in front of you, giving you no way out. His body, solid muscle and soft skin, warm and so close, shouldn't feel this good when he's about to see right through something you did so much effort to hide.
"Diego, stop." The tears threaten to flow back. "Please."
"Look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong." His voice is low and harsh, but his eyes are soft, searching your face for an answer.
"I don't know what you want me to say." You counter, tired of lying.
"The truth, Y/N." Diego tries. You advert his intense gaze, and he sighs, tiredly. "You think I haven't seen the way you look at me?"
His revelation makes your world stop. There's a new stream of tears falling down your face. You thought you were being smart, quiet about it. Was it that obvious all this time?
You never thought it would come to this.
"No... don't cry, honey." Diego coos, thumbing away your tears. His mercy only makes you feel worse. "Please, I hate it when you cry. It's okay."
"I didn't mean to feel like this, alright?" You begin, feeling the need to defend yourself. "It's just… I can't help it. I tried and I tried and I tried everything in my power but it's useless. Fighting it. But I promise you, I won't get in your way, as soon as we're…"
Diego dips down, silencing you with his lips. They're as soft as you imagined, better than you could ever have hoped. You can't believe what's happening as your lips move together, but you can't pull away. He pulls away first.
"If I knew about it before, I would have done this sooner."
None of this makes sense to you. "I thought you would hate me." You confess.
"I could never hate you." He moves a piece of your hair behind your ear. "The opposite, actually."
"You don't think I'm crazy, then?"
"Well, I was the one in the psych ward…"
You laugh, involuntarily. "Stop! I'm serious."
"I'm serious too." He admits. "I wish you'd talked to me, Y/N. It would spare us both a lot of trouble… and time."
"I didn't want to lose you if this didn't work."
"You won't lose me. I'm right here."
This time, you meet halfway into another kiss, more consuming than the last one. Your hands go to his shoulders, his wrapping themselves tight around your frame. It's not long after when you hear a loud crash coming from upstairs. You pull away reluctantly, the two of you sharing a stunned look.
"Five." You two say at the same time.
"Rain check?" You ask.
"Yeah, you bet."