Work Text:
“Number 2 what is the meaning of this!”
Diego Hargreeves stopped dead, hovering over the defeated opponent under him. He had his bamboo sticks poised with a spar ending blow, yet he couldn’t bring himself to force them downwards, at least not when his opponent was curled into a ball at his feet, eyes round and pleading.
“Number 2! I asked you a question,” growled Reginald Hargreeves as he marched over to stand beside the teen in question.
Diego tipped his head slightly upward, forcing himself to make eye contact with his father. “H-H-He’s al-already l-l-l-lost,” Diego choked out, cursing his damn stutter for displaying his weakness loud and clear for not just his father, but the rest of his siblings that were sparring around him, to hear. “T-Th-There’s n-n-n-n-no p-point i-in mak-making i-i-it wo-worse.”
Reginald Hargreeves turned up his lip, his monocle appearing to help fixate his gaze even more on Diego so that it bore into his skin. “I can’t understand you, Number 2. I thought I told you to get your speech under control!”
Heat rose into Diego’s cheeks. If there was one thing he hated, it was being humiliated, and in front of his brothers and sister no less. He stole a glance around him, noting that they were all looking at him with sympathy in their eyes, even Five.
He didn’t want their pity! He wanted his fucking words to come out of his damn mouth!
“Y-Y-Yes, sir,” Diego stammered, hot tears threatening to fall from his eyes.
Reginald prowled around Diego in a circle, stealing a glance at the defeated boy at his feat. “And you refuse to deal the final blow to Number 4 to show him the error of his ways?”
Diego tipped his head to the side, completely forgetting how he was meant to address his father. “He knows h-h-he lo-lost,” Diego snapped. “A-Another blow w-w-will do n-n-n-n-nothing!”
Reginald leaned over Diego, gaze fixated somewhere behind him. Diego fought not to shudder at being so close to a man he had grown to hate and fear respectively.
“And to think I ever thought you could compete with Number One. You’re too soft; there’s no fire in your belly! And worst of all you can’t even control a simple stutter. You’re a waste to this Academy and a waste to me! I don’t want to see a glimpse of you until you’re able to sharpen your mind and your speech.” Reginald straightened and addressed not only Diego, but the rest of his siblings too.
“I want everyone to line up here, immediately!”
The remaining of his siblings did as they were told, ran over and lined single file in front of their father.
Number Four rose to his feet tiredly, dazed and winded from his fight with Diego. He limped over to Allison, standing up as straight as he could and looked at Reginald with squinted eyes.
Diego was about to step in line when Reginald pulled him back abruptly and forced him to stand facing his siblings.
“Now, I want all of you to tell Number Two what a disgrace he is to this Academy,” Reginald ordered.
Diego’s eyes widened in shock, the rest of his siblings having the same reaction. They glanced to each other first before looking to Luther, expecting him to chime in with what he thought.
“Sir,” Five began.
Reginald snapped his neck around to glare at Number Five. “Silence! You will each speak one at a time loudly and clearly to Number Two. Perhaps this will harden his weakened mind and make it possible for him to talk like the member that I taught him to be.”
Diego thought that he was going to be sick. His stomach churned, brain felt dizzy and jumbled, while lightheadedness began to settle through him. He felt like he was floating, looking down on himself like a common viewer. Hot tears threatened to roll down his cheeks, but he kept them at bay. If there was one thing that Reginald hated more than Diego’s stutter, it was when any of his children cried.
“Number One,” Reginald ordered, motioning for Luther to take a step forward.
Luther reluctantly took a small step forward and stood rigid, shoulders back and chest puffed out. He looked over to Diego, who refused to look in his eye.
“You are a disgrace to this Academy,” Luther told him, voice booming through the training area.
Reginald nodded. “And what about his mind?”
“You have a weak mind,” Luther choked out. “If you had a stronger mind you could control your stutter. You’re just not trying hard enough.”
Every instinct Diego had told him to lash out at Luther, break his nose and make him take it back. However, one look at Reginald told him what would happen if he even tried. The best that he could do was stand with his arms at his side, hoping to remain stoic so that he could get through it.
Luther took a step back and Allison took a step forward. She shot Diego a pleading look of apology before opening her mouth to speak. “You are a disgrace to this Academy and you have a weak mind.” She swallowed thickly, voice growing softer. “You’re just not trying hard enough.”
Diego dipped his head in understanding while Allison stepped back, appearing distraught. Diego wanted to show her a sign that it was okay, and he knew that she didn’t mean it. However, all he could do at the moment was stay where he was.
Klaus was next, taking a limping step forward. Diego instantly felt a rush of pity for him and shame for going at him as hard as he did just because Reginald had told him to. Klaus would’ve fallen at the first blow if Diego would’ve allowed him to and then maybe they could’ve avoided all of this. Unfortunately, it was too late to go back now.
“I won’t say it,” Klaus replied firmly.
Fire lit in Reginald’s eyes when he looked to Number Four. “You do not have a choice! Would you like to spend another night in the mausoleum?”
A shiver passed down Klaus’s spine. Everyone knew how much he despised it in there and how he would come out haunted and traumatized, unable to speak for days.
Diego looked to Klaus, relieved when his brother glanced back at him. ‘It’s okay,’ Diego mouthed. He would be damned if Klaus had to suffer just because he wouldn’t join in on the berating.
Angrily, Klaus looked to Reginald, speaking more to him than he was to Diego. “You are a disgrace to this Academy and have the weakness mind. If you would just try harder then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”
Reginald didn’t comment on Klaus’s obvious attempt at rebellion. He was used to it from Number Four, so much so that it hardly fazed him anymore.
“Number Five!”
Diego struggled not to roll his eyes. Out of all of his siblings, he was certain that it would be Five that would enjoy this the most. It was probably something that Five thought often even if he never spoke it out loud. Five was a difficult person to get close to and could be downright harsh more times than not. He had said numerous things about Diego’s stutter throughout the years that he would rather not remember, a lot of it being worse than what he was going to be forced to say now.
“You are a disgrace to this Academy and have a weak mind. If you were stronger, you would be able to control your stutter. You’re just not trying hard enough,” Five told him calmly, voice not changing tone or pitch throughout the entire thing. He slid back next to his siblings with the rest of the attention turning on Ben.
Ben timidly stepped forward, fiddling with his hands in front of him. “You’re a disgrace to this Academy,” Ben whispered against his chest. “And you have a weak mind that you can learn to control but you just don’t.” Ben scurried back, looking down at the floor and nearly leaning against Five.
Diego took it all, each word sending daggers into his heart. Although he knew that Reginald had forced them all to say that, it didn’t make the words hurt any less. His siblings may never say it out loud to him, but part of him was certain that they were thoughts they experienced about him, but just didn’t express. His stutter had gotten them into trouble with missions before when he couldn’t get the information through the comms.
“That is enough training for now,” Reginald announced. “Return to your studies.”
Relief washed over Diego at the thought of doing anything besides training and leaving his father behind. Pogo or Grace was responsible for the lessons, and for that Diego was relieved. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing his father anymore than he already did.
“Number Two!”
Diego had only gotten a few steps when he heard his number being called. He stopped abruptly, debating whether or not he could make a run for it. Thinking better of it, he turned around and came over to his father’s side, trying not to shrink away.
“I hope you’ve learned a very valuable lesson about your deficits, Number Two. I take it this won’t happen again,” he challenged.
‘The stutter or the fact that I wouldn’t hurt Klaus,’ Diego wondered. He would never ask that out loud if he didn’t have a death wish, but he wasn’t certain which part his father meant.
“Have I made myself clear?”
Diego stood tall and pictured the words he wanted to say in his mind. Stuttering now would not only be incredibly embarrassing, but he also feared that Reginald would bring his siblings back to do the exercise all over again.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good! Now go up to your room. You’ll do your lessons alone today. Perhaps that will help sharpen your mind.”
Diego struggled not to show his disappointment. Although he didn’t always get along with his siblings, they were the only social interaction that he had on a daily basis besides Pogo and Grace. Lessons were a time for them to talk and sometimes even goof around if Pogo was feeling in a particularly lenient mood. Having that taken away was almost worse than being sent to bed without dinner.
Begrudgingly, Diego walked from the training room and up the stairs to his room, not even pausing when Allison called his name from the kitchen.
He headed into his room and slammed the door behind him, loud enough to cause some of the pictures on his wall to shake.
Diego marched over to his bed and threw himself down, pummeling his fists against the first pillow he could grab. He imagined Reginald’s face on the pillow in front of him as he continued to pound on it with no end in sight. He took to scratching at his pillow next, tears running down his face when he thought about his father.
“Is this w-w-whwhat you wa-want,” Diego hissed, low enough so that no one would hear him if they passed by his door. “Will this ‘s-s-s-s-sharpen my mind’? Am I-I-I-I any less u-u-useless now?!’
Exhaustion began to settle like a weight on Diego. He slumped to the side, shoulders shaking with sobs. The pillow was pulled tightly against his chest, face ducked down into the pillow to muffle his crying.
It was a few minutes later when Diego heard a small knock at the door. His head lifted timidly, heart dropping into his stomach.
Diego sat up, quickly wiping the tears from his face. “W-W-Who is i-it,” he forced out, deliberately attempting to keep the stutter out of his words as much as possible.
“It’s Klaus.”
Diego let out a deep breath, the weight leaving him once more. Although he didn’t want company at the moment, he couldn’t turn Klaus away. There was something about his lanky brother that Diego felt a fierce protectiveness for, despite Klaus often doing everything in his power to get himself into dire stimulations.
Reluctantly, Diego headed over to the door and opened it slightly. Klaus forced his way in, leaning back against the door to close it.
Klaus looked over to Diego’s tear streaked face in surprise. “You look like shit.”
“You’re o-o-one to ta-talk.”
Klaus glanced down at his disheveled clothes and shrugged. “Eh, I’ve definitely looked worse. You, on the other hand rarely look anything but the solider Dad wants.”
“I-I-I-I do-don’t g-g-g-give a-a fuck wh-wh-what D-Dad w-w-w-wants!”
Klaus didn’t so much as flinch despite Diego taking a step forward so that he was almost standing nose to nose with his brother. Although Klaus was sure that Diego had meant to be intimidating, he couldn’t help but smile. “Now that’s the spirit.”
Diego drew away from Klaus and stomped over to his bed. He jumped on it, eyes narrowed to unforgiving slits. He wouldn’t dare cry in Klaus’s presence, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel like he wanted to.
Klaus timidly padded over and jumped up beside him. “You didn’t have to do that,” he mumbled, barely breathing. “You could’ve just finished me off and Dad wouldn’t have picked on you.”
Diego shrugged. “W-W-Wasn’t go-going to use you t-t-t-to sa-save my s-s-s-skin.”
“Yeah, but I still wanted to thank you and all.” Klaus fiddled with his hands in front of him, waiting to see if Diego would speak first. When that didn’t seem to be the case, he continued. “You know that was a load of shit what Dad was saying, right? About your mind needing to be tougher or whatever.”
Diego shrugged once more.
Klaus gnawed at his bottom lip, turning slightly to face his brother. “You’re one of the strongest people that I know and I know how hard you work at talking. Dad doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The rest of us don’t believe it either and it’s fucked up he made us say that.”
Diego’s shoulders slumped forward, eyes partially closed. “M-M-M-Maybe he’s r-right.”
“He is not!” Klaus jumped up and pointed a finger in Diego’s face to gain his attention. “He just wanted to say something that would hurt you and I don’t know why, but that’s just the kind of person that he is. You can’t let it get to you.”
“E-E-Easy for y-y-y-you to say.”
Klaus sighed, unsure of how to proceed. This was not the Diego that he knew.
“Yeah, maybe, but you think I haven’t been at the brunt of Dad’s insults? A day doesn’t go by that he doesn’t look at me and say ‘such a waste of potential, Number Four,’” Klaus chirped, putting on his best Reginald Hargreeves impression.
Diego couldn’t help but chuckle. His throat then grew thick, tears beginning to fall down his face once more.
Klaus saw, feeling a pang of guilt. Emotion besides anger wasn’t something that Diego expressed often. In fact, Klaus couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Diego cry, even on the last mission when he had broken his wrist. That was just the kind of person that Diego was, and to see him break down now, broke Klaus more than he could explain.
He jumped back up beside Diego until their shoulders were brushing. Diego slumped against Klaus’s side, head rested on his shoulder.
Klaus was certain that this show of emotion and comfort sought by physical touch wasn’t something that was going to happen again anytime soon if he knew his brother. However, if that was what Diego needed to reassure him now, then Klaus wasn’t about to question it.
He reached an arm around Diego’s shoulder while Diego stayed against him, eyes beginning to close.
“I’m sorry, Diego,” Klaus whispered, closing his own eyes. “I’m so, so sorry.”