Chapter Text
Five brings it up about a month after he and Diego return from their trip. He says it's because he might as well call in some favours while he's at it. Klaus says it's because Five is secretly the sappiest person alive who loves them all really, and why else do you think he bothered coming back to stop the apocalypse in the first place?
Klaus walks around with a bruise the shape of a small, angry fist on his bicep for a few days after that.
Diego and Vanya don't ask Five to look into theirs. Five does it anyway, of course, but as far as Diego is concerned, his birth mom is just a woman on the other side of the world who hadn't been able to deal with a surprise baby and gave him away. There weren't any hard feelings – his trip to Ukraine with Five had cemented that – but Grace is Diego's real mom. Yeah, there was that part where she was a robot essentially created to be a walking, talking security camera for a paranoid billionaire, but that wasn't her fault. Grace did the best she could with what she was allowed, and for Diego, that's all he needs.
Five gives him a note with his place of birth (Puebla City, Mexico) and his birth mother's name on it. Diego sticks it in a book that he leaves on the shelf of his room in the mansion and that, as they say, is that.
For Vanya, it's a little more complicated.
She thinks no woman deserves to meet a daughter who almost ended the world.
“I can tell you who it is, if you want,” Five mumbles one quiet night at Vanya’s place. He’s got a glass of whiskey clutched firmly in his small hand as he lists dangerously to the side, eyes drooping shut. He forces them back open again with a grunt. “Your birth mother, I can find her. I have the tech. I have the know-how.”
“It’s okay, Five,” Vanya says quietly, reaching over to pluck the glass out of his grip as he finally gives in to gravity and tips sideways onto the cushions. She smiles. “Go to sleep.”
//
“First of all, y’all are not pulling a Five and going in without any warning,” Diego says at breakfast. “You have to at least contact these people first.”
Five raises his eyebrows. “My way worked out just fine.”
“Yeah, on a fluke,” Diego counters. “Just because your mom was weirdly chill about it doesn’t mean everyone else’s will be.”
“Okay, asswipe –”
“Diego’s right, Five,” Allison cuts in. “Most people wouldn’t take so kindly to having their long-lost miracle babies just drop in on them.”
Five rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
“How are you finding these people, anyway?” Vanya asks, frowning.
He shrugs and sips his third cup of coffee. It’s ten am. “Like I said before, I have sources.”
“Yeah, way to not sound sketchy at all, bud,” Klaus mumbles around a mouthful of blueberry pancakes.
//
The days leading up to their first trip are exhausting for everyone, mostly because Klaus spends the whole time working on his ability to make Ben corporeal and then complaining about it afterwards. Ben’s been tethered to his brother for almost two decades now, but this is kind of getting on his nerves.
The moment Ben stays corporeal for more than 10 minutes after Klaus falls asleep, Allison whoops and books four return tickets to California.
//
There's a ramp leading up to the porch.
The driveway is smooth cement, rather than rough gravel like the other houses in this creepily picturesque San Francisco neighbourhood. That and the fact that Five had mentioned she was on disability pension means that by the time the door opens, Ben has pretty much put the pieces together as to why Dawon Lee gave him up for adoption in 1989.
She's in a wheelchair.
It's a very nice one, as far as wheelchairs go. It's lavender purple, with bright Sesame Street stickers all over the handles and what looks like a memory foam cushion along the back. And of course, the woman sitting in it is Ben's mother, so it's got that going for it.
Dawon Lee squints up at Klaus and Allison suspiciously. "You're the Hargreeves people, then?" she asks.
Klaus smiles dazzlingly. "That's us!"
"Ms. Lee, right?" Allison asks. She sticks out a hand. “Hi, I’m Allison Hargreeves. This is my brother, Klaus.”
Klaus does jazz hands. Invisible to everyone but his brother, Ben rolls his eyes.
Dawon shakes Allison’s hand stiffly. "Nice to meet you."
They stand around in awkward silence on the porch for a few moments before Dawon sighs.
"Well, come in, I suppose," she mutters, and turns around and wheels back into the house.
//
Ben is really quite surprised at how well Dawon is taking the whole thing.
“Well, I knew about the accident, and my niece was a fan back in the day,” she explains, as the blue-tinged apparition of her dead son sits on the couch across from her. “Ghosts obviously exist, so it's not surprising that you would be one.”
No-one has ever reacted this calmly to Klaus’ powers before. Klaus himself looks vaguely shocked, his hands glowing a soft blue. “Huh,” he answers.
They lapse into silence again, punctuated by small, tentative sips of tea. Dawon seems perfectly content to sit quietly with a bunch of strangers, but Allison eventually cracks.
“So, how long have you been in San Francisco?” she asks desperately. Klaus catches Ben’s eye and smirks.
“A while,” Dawon shrugs. “I came to San Fran eight years ago. Better opportunities here. Cheongju wasn’t great for accessibility services.”
“...I see.”
The lull is painfully awkward. Ben wants to laugh.
//
“I didn’t give you up because I’m in a wheelchair.”
Ben blinks at the non-sequitur.
“Plenty of people raise families while disabled.” Dawon is matter-of-fact. “But I didn’t want to. I won’t apologise for my decision, but…”
She stops, and for the first time since they arrived, emotion flickers across her face. Ben just isn’t sure which one it is.
Dawon raises her head, and looks her son in the eye. “Sometimes, I regret where you ended up.”
Ben looks at his mother for a long moment. "Did you...did you give me a name?"
She nods. "Yes. I named you Min-kyung."
Ben tilts his head. "What does it mean?"
"Brightness," she says.
//
“Hi, we’re looking for Ramona Jefferson?” Allison asks nervously. For all that she had put on a brave face with Dawon, she’s almost wringing her hands with nervousness now. “I arranged to meet with her today.”
The woman who opened the door looks strangely at them. “Were you after my daughter, or my sister? They’re both named Ramona.”
“Oh! Uh…your sister, I suppose. Sorry, um, we haven’t actually met before, so I don’t know what she, uh, looks like…”
All that public speaking practice her agent made her do ten years ago is literally flying out the window. Klaus snickers softly behind her as Allison gasps as she remembers her manners.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot to introduce myself!” she cries. She sticks her hand out. “I’m Allison Hargreeves.”
The woman takes her hand warily. “Anita. Aren’t you an actress?”
“Oh, right! I am, yes.” Allison doesn’t have a very good track record with these introductions. “So…is your sister here?”
Anita sighs, leaning against the doorframe. “I think I know what happened, but you’ll probably want to come in and sit down.”
Allison frowns. “Why is that?”
//
So apparently, Allison’s mother is dead. As it turns out, the woman they’ve been emailing back-and-forth for the past two weeks is actually Ramona Jefferson’s twelve-year-old niece with the same name, whose parents definitely hadn’t known they were going to be visited by a movie star that day.
Five is so not going to live this one down.
//
The bane of Allison’s existence picks them up an hour later. “Well?” Five asks from the driver’s seat. “How’d it go?”
“Oh, just peachy,” Klaus answers, nonchalant. “Apart from the bit where we got punked by a twelve-year-old.”
“What?”
Allison glowers.
“Ramona Jefferson died from breast cancer three years ago,” Ben explains. “We were emailing her niece the whole time. Her parents were more than a bit surprised to see us. Well,” he trails off, gesturing at his own translucent form. “To see Klaus and Allison, at least. It was really awkward.”
“…Ah.”
“Yeah.”
The car lapses into silence.
“Well, you kind of screwed the pooch on that one,” Five mumbles after a few moments, and honks loudly as he cuts off a turning car.
“Yeah, well, maybe we wouldn’t have screwed it up so much if you had just told us where you got your info,” Allison grouses. He ignores her and keeps driving.