Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

From the second he woke up, Alphonso knew it was going to be a brutal day. He knew from the punishment the siblings received yesterday that today they were getting trained until they passed out. He slipped out of bed and grabbed the least foul-smelling training uniform he had and took 17 minutes flat putting it on. Along with checking himself out in the mirror, putting his shoes on, and maybe some other unnecessary things. When he finally finished and checked the time, he realized he had two minutes to get to the training room all the way across the academy.

Shit.

He swiftly walked down the stairs in his training outfit, still tired and already aggravated by the heat of the July air and the humidity that came from rain the night before. Their air conditioning system relied solely on Christopher and wishful thinking. As Alphonso got closer to the training room, he could see Number One, Three, Five, Six, and Seven standing in their number order, correct posture and all. Ben had yet to make his appearance but he would soon in the most dramatic way possible. It was a habit that he picked up when they got famous worldwide, a year and half prior. As Alphonso stepped off of the last step, something swung down from the top banister, landing right next to him. The thing “accidentally” knocked him down to the floor, knocking the wind out of Number Four and smacking his face on the ground. Unsurprisingly, standing above him, was the ever-dramatic Number Two who was showing off his powers that were, for the most part, under control.

Alphonso had to reign in the added anger that was immediately induced by the sight, and contact, of his brother. He had to learn how to control the urge to fight back, lest he gets in trouble and gets extra training time, again. He slowly stood up and massaged his nose that got hit in the fall, shooting a glare at Ben and starting back on his original path, already a minute late for training. Of course, Ben noticed the time as well because, in two seconds, he dashed past Alphonso into the training room. The room was always closely administered by their father so if you were the last one into the room, he would know. Alphonso sped up and quickly walked in after Ben. Stepping one foot into the room, he immediately got called out by Sir Hargreeves who was standing in front of the line of his adopted super-children, “Number Four! You are late to morning training, yet again!” He exclaimed in a piqued manner.

He knew not to fight back, he knew not to bring up Ben being late too because he wasn’t the last one in the room, he actually knew when to stop this time. He muttered out an apology saying it would not happen again which seemed to satisfy Sir Reginald enough. He nodded and made a small sound of acceptance that had underlying tones of disappointment and resentment. Alphonso anxiously stood in line between Three and Five and waited to start his training. The children were always pitted to train against each other, One vs. Two, Three vs. Four, and Five vs. Six. They would rotate in and out daily so Seven could train as well.

Today the rotation put Two with Four, already having the scuffle from earlier that was fueling the fire for a heated future altercation. Ben obviously threw the first punch, it landed in his brother’s stomach, he sported a smug smile and shook out his fists. Advancing his fighting technique, Alphonso was slowly learning to not dodge or block but use the opponent's attack to his advantage. For the first time in training, Alphonso let himself get punched in the face. Everyone paused, stared, and went silent. Alphonso recoiled from the hit and stood in shock at what he had done for a split second and then remembered exactly why he did it. He held his arm up in front of Ben as a red-orange glow started revealing itself around his hand. In the seconds following, Ben groaned and held his face, gaining a matching mark in the same place where he hit Alphonso.

Everyone was looking at him like he just committed a federal crime, which was something they, in essence, did every day. Alphonso had transferred self-inclined injuries to opponents before but he had never tried deflecting an offensive attack from an outside force. The siblings were mostly shocked but a small, proud smile was creeping onto Number Six’s face, a smile was on Sir Reginald’s face as well except his reasoning differed, possessing greedy undertones at Number Four’s new strategy. Alphonso continued on the offense and reared up to deliver a firm kick to the stomach of his brother, who was still holding his face. It landed right at his diaphragm, leading to Ben encountering the same shortness of breath Alphonso was wheezing from a couple of minutes ago. This made Ben absolutely furious, he would not lose to a number under him, especially Number Four. He struck the lower Number Four with a punch to the chest and buckled his knees with assistance from The Horror. This fight started to feel less like daily training and more like a personal brawl. The siblings on stand-by recognized this too, Sir Reginald commanded them to watch, for “learning purposes”.

Standing over Number Four and throwing blows at him like there would be no tomorrow, Number Two was completely pummeling his brother. Ben’s rage was plentiful after reading a not-so-flattering article about himself. The article painted him as shallow while Marcus was seen as a complete prodigy. His fists were an outlet to let out his frustration, landing punches with perfect precision.

Laying underneath Ben, Alphonso continued to radiate a red-orange glow from where he was injured, slowly but surely relaying the pain he was feeling to Ben. Every blow he took was worth it to see the same reflect on Ben’s perfect appearance. No matter how much pain Ben was in, he was still dishing out punches like it was nothing. Using his powers in a new way was tiring Alphonso out faster than usual, while Number Two was still attacking and smashing his brother’s face to a pulp. Ben’s face was adorned with a thick veil of red that affected his perception, one that matched Alphonso’s face to the drop.

Alphonso, taking a big breath in, stopped his glow and slapped the ground with an open palm, signaling a surrender. Ben noticed and disregarded the action, continuing to throw the last few punches, making sure they landed and stuck. As the last blow hit Alphonso’s bloody face, Ben let go of his brother’s identical training shirt, letting him sink to his knees before spitting out a lacerating and harsh speech.

“There’s a reason you’re Number Four, Alphonso,” Ben spat out just loud enough for only Alphonso to hear. “You can’t make the hard decision to ensure your victory. You’re too weak. Your place on the number line isn’t just there for organization. Everyone knows it, why hasn’t that gotten through your messed up head?” Suddenly, the bell rang and all the people in the room looked away from the brothers. Sir Reginald and all but two of the siblings dispersed from the training room to go upstairs and get dressed for their next activity. Six and Four stayed on the training room floor until Grace rang the breakfast bell. What Ben said covered Alphonso’s heart in a light layer of frost, it was the start of the decline.

Chapter Text

It had been years since that last incident. Alphonso had slowly realized how his family truly perceived him, but that honestly didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Jayme stayed by his side. Sure, everyone else let fame get to their heads but not Alphonso and certainly not Jayme. Four and Six became almost inseparable from each other after Ben’s beat-down, fighting crime together and spending all their free time together.

A couple years later, Jayme and Alphonso are using their downtime break after dinner to listen to their favorite records until their designated study time starts. As Alphonso starts to flip the record to play the second side, the mission bell rings. Hastily setting the needle down, they do as they were trained, lining up in the foyer by number to see who was getting picked for the mission. Sir Reginald came out of his office and stood in front of all of the super-powered siblings, ready to address them with a short mission rundown.

“Children,” he says in a stern and leading tone, “There is a situation downtown. Full details are unavailable. I am sending.. Number Six to sort it out.” He turns and goes back to his office, the posture of four of the children (excluding Number Seven) relaxing. Muttering good luck to Number Six, they all went to their respective rooms to get their study materials together. However, Alphonso and Jayme did not relax, nor did they scatter. Alphonso stood staring at his sister and best-friend in a state of fear and shock. Jayme and Alphonso always went on missions together, one could not focus correctly without the other, they were a team who was tightly woven and inseparable, but Jayme was going on a solo mission.

The room was so quiet you could hear their tiny heartbeats, both of them faster than normal. Jayme slowly looked up to meet his eyes, hers filled with the same amount of emotion in the same exact form. Breaking eye contact, she turned and swiftly walked upstairs, her brother ensuing. She ran up into her room, but as Alphonso tried to follow, Jayme simply held an open flat hand up that signaled for him to stop following. She shut the door and immediately heard his muffled ranting, already overwhelmed from the stress of the situation. As she was getting into her mission outfit, she could hear Alphonso telling her about being safe alone, the dangers of not knowing what the threat was, the fact that he wouldn’t be there to back her up and the fact that it’s her first solo mission. His words felt so far away as she stared at herself in the mirror, ignoring her trembling hands as he spoke.

Jayme knew Alphonso, she recognized his anxiety, he had it severely since they were young. She was also having some feelings of anxiety knowing all of the things he was saying through the door were true. After zipping up the final zippers and doing a final look through in her mirror, Jayme slowly stepped out of her room, adorning the iconic red Sparrow suit. Alphonso was sitting in front of the door waiting for her, immediately standing up and wrapping her in a very tight but caring hug. Jayme wasn’t much of a hugger but she had one exception, the only person who made her feel like less of an outcast. She hugged back and whispered under her breath trying to not let fear-filled tears come to brim, “I’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

Alphonso squeezed and finally pulled away, he couldn’t help but worry. Both of them could feel the anxiety that was circulating around their general area, it was almost suffocating. Jayme haphazardly walked past him and down the two flights of stairs to the front doors. Alphonso closely followed and stood at the doors to wish his sister good luck when she left. He didn’t want to shut the door because that meant that this was real, his sister was going on a mission alone. He couldn’t stand the overwhelming amount of thoughts invading his head so he just sat down with the door wide open.

She walked through the doors and into their family car, sitting down in the middle seat as she always did. Jayme looked out the car window one last time before departing on the way to the scene of the mission.

Alphonso waited for an update or for his sister to come home, whichever came first. His anxiety grew every second, he didn’t know what was happening to Jayme, he didn’t know if she was even still alive. He immediately hit his head with the heel of his hand to knock that thought out of his head, that stupid, stupid, unnecessary thought, that was completely possible.

It was extremely silent and before anyone could ask who just slammed the door, the vitals Jayme’s suit was reading dropped to life threatening levels and the alarm, telling everyone in the house that one of the siblings was in danger, started screaming as loud as it could. This only happened when something was devastatingly wrong. Anyone would have guessed that the alarm would go off today but no one was prepared. The siblings and Sir Reginald couldn’t make it downstairs and out of the door ahead of Alphonso, who had left in advance of the alarm, having a gut feeling something went wrong. Ben was the first to leave without putting his suit or helmet on. He ran out the door and turned the engine of his street bike over then sped off towards Jayme’s position.

Alphonso miraculously arrived before Ben and when Ben did arrive, he never expected what he saw. He stared in horrified awe as an unconscious, injured, and bloody Jayme was tied up and hanging over a gaping hole created in the ground that held bubbling lava and a stressed, trying, tired Alphonso was doing his best to get his sister down from afar. Ben unsaddled the seat of his motorcycle and ran over to his brother. “What are you doing?!” he shouted over the noise of the crowd. “What the hell happened here?!”

His brother sputtered out the words “set-up”, “die”, and “can’t”, none of which helped Ben in any manner. He wasn’t sure why he thought that little Number Four could actually be useful. Ben half scoffed half sighed, rolling his eyes at his brother’s incompetence. He turned back and looked through the situation. He analyzed the scene and tried coming up with the best plan. Jayme was hanging in chains over the lava pool so he had to figure out how strong the chains were and when they might break, how to look cool getting her down, and what is the percentage of success. Easy peasy. Ben told Alphonso to go watch the area where the chains were hanging from and he immediately rushed off. He made it to where the chains were affixed and made sure they didn’t slip. Getting the right foothold took longer than expected but he had to ensure his safety too. He wasn’t sure how much time was left for his little sister but he hoped it was enough. Ben tried yelling at Jayme to wake her up, it didn’t work. The brothers weren’t aware that she was hit on the head with violent force prior to being strung up so that made things more complicated.

Alphonso watched from afar, hands sweating as his voice began to give out from the constant screaming. Jayme not waking up made Alphonso even more anxious than he already was; the possibility of his sister not waking up grew every second. Unfortunately, he was so focused on his sister that he wasn’t watching the chains. Every time Ben yelled her name, the chains slipped and neither of the brothers noticed. After the third click of the chains, Ben could feel the heat from the lava stinging his face. He started raising himself up with his tentacles outstretched to the buildings on either side of the road, eyeing Jayme’s body inching closer and closer to certain death. Alphonso was still not focused on his task, too busy watching Ben scale the buildings and trying to yell Jayme’s name to wake her up. The chains slipped again, as Ben was looking for the culprit of the crime from a bird's eye view. However, he gave up the small search as it was way too dark to see and there were more pressing matters.

Ben took one last look around the area and prepared himself to launch himself towards his sister. It wasn’t the best plan but it was the best he had. The chains were so close to being let loose, allowing Jayme’s body to fall into the scorching pit of liquid fire. It was haunting to think that Number Six could be gone and it would be his fault. He couldn’t let it happen, never ever.

Before he could push himself off, there was a blood curdling scream that made the hairs on his arms stand up. It was his brother’s scream, the worst scream that he had ever heard out of all the missions he had been on.

Everything after that happened in slow motion. The chains that were holding Jayme up slipped and let her fall towards the pit below. Alphonso was reaching towards the fallen chains but Ben reacted faster than his brother did. He immediately stretched out a tentacle, overworking The Horror who was already protesting from holding him up across such a distance. Jayme was falling faster and faster, coming too close to the bubbling lava. Her hair caught wind of the heat and began curling up against itself, her skin becoming red and angry from the aggravation.

Alphonso could only watch, his beady eyes filling up to the brim with tears so hot it could have been the lava streaming down his face. Alphonso couldn’t lose his best friend, he couldn’t, not now, not ever. They had spent so much of their time together and they still had so much to do. So many life experiences to live through, so many idiotic plans to go through and get in trouble for. Through all the pain he could already feel, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the terrifying scene.

Then suddenly, she stopped. Suspended in midair by a familiar force. Ben had caught her, before she fell in, right on time. He immediately pulled her to safety and released the chains.

The Horror didn’t appreciate being so outstretched, nearly to the max. As Ben was reigning it back in, it took one of its sharp teeth on the end of a tentacle and scratched Ben’s face before stowing away in its own dimension. Ben winced at the cut on his face that would most definitely leave a scar, but none of that mattered because Jayme was finally safe. Alphonso blinked the blurring tears away, rushed down and ran over to them, immediately checking Jayme for a pulse and making sure she wasn’t injured to an unfixable extent. Ignoring him, Ben got up and carried their limp sister to his motorcycle before Alphonso could finish investigating the extent of her wounds. He protested, “Ben! What the hell are you doing?!” in a concerned, confused manner. Ben said nothing of what he was doing and continued to secure Jayme in by having The Horror hold her snug and safe close to himself as he kicked the kickstand up and shifted into first gear before speeding off towards The Academy.

Alphonso was abandoned standing in the aftermath of the disorder and disarray that was left in the downtown area. Sirens were wailing in the distance and the crowd was beginning to grow, shocked at what they all witnessed and already asking so many questions. He was the only Hargreeves at the scene and he did not have the best track record of dealing with the press, so he did what he did best. He ran. He got back into the family car, tires screeching as the driver sped off in the direction of ‘home’ per instruction of Number Four.

When he finally reached the stairs of The Academy and opened the doors, there was nobody waiting there for him, which was not surprising. He wandered through the living room to the kitchen before making it to the infirmary which is really where he should have started his search. The whole family was standing in the room, loosely surrounding a medical bed where Grace was working with inhuman speed, stability, and precision, exactly how she was programmed. Their father stood in the corner of the room, making everyone aware of Alphonso’s presence by announcing his birth assigned number. Everyone instantly turned to face the doorway in which their brother was standing while Grace kept working on his wounded, unconscious sister laying on the bed.

Marcus opened his mouth to start speaking but Sir Reginald interrupted, “Number Four, you left the house prior to Number Two, why did you return after he did and why did he bring in your sister?” This was a question Alphonso was not prepared to answer, especially with all the pressure from being stared down by his siblings. He was still racing through all the different scenarios that he would find his sister in, even now thinking that she could have died on her way back to safety. He stuttered over words, not being able to come up with an explanation for what happened, for what he saw and for what he didn’t do. He could feel each of his siblings silently shunning him for not being the one to save Jayme in spite of him leaving ahead of everyone. They knew he wouldn't have been able to do it but they still punished him anyway. No matter what he did, no one would ever believe he could do anything right.

Sir Reginald kept going. “You should have been the one to bring Number Six back! Your negligence and lack of focus are not traits fit for The Sparrow Academy! Due to your nonperformance in front of the public today, you have earned extra training for the rest of the week!” His big speech left Number Four speechless, unable to form a lucid thought, brain clouded by the realization of his own failure. He slowly backed out of the infirmary looking between Jayme on the bed, his standing siblings, his father and back to Jayme again before he turned around and let his eyes cloud up with tears of guilt.

He almost let his sister die. His sister, his rock, his escape from the grim life they were both living. She could have died because of him. He would not let it happen again, he could not let it happen again. Another layer of frost formed over his heart, crystallizing over the first layer in an all too quick manner. He could feel the scorching tears stream down his face as he scrunched it into a scowl. His anger was targeted towards himself, he was angry at his incompetence, how could he let his sister almost slip to her death? The guilt of the whole situation became too much for him to bear, he ran up to his room and slammed the door shut. He curled up on the floor, unable to express his emotions with more than sobs full of guilt, and cries of pain. This would never happen again.

Ever.

Chapter Text

It’s late in the evening and Alphonso had just gotten home from five consecutive missions that each lasted a week. He was exhausted, to say the least. He reeked of sweat and crusted blood since he didn’t have any access to a shower, he hurt all over from using his powers nonstop. As he shut the door, he announced himself arriving but nobody was around to hear him. Oh well, he thought. It’s pretty late, they’re probably out having fun. Hoisting his bag up, he trudged upstairs to his room to finally unwind. He unpacked the small bag he had and let out a long, happy sigh. He had been waiting desperately to hear the notification chime on his watch saying that his mission was completed. Solo missions were not fun in the slightest and they were even worse for Alphonso. He was always around Jayme and that included duo missions, reserved specifically for the emotionally attached siblings. He was a little despondent to be home, especially with the underlying knowledge that everyone still thinks he’s not fit to be in the field because he wasn’t the one to save Jayme. Pushing that out of his mind, he weakly stumbled to his bathroom and swiftly undressed, started the shower and got in.

The warmth of the shower quickly filled up the room, the hot steam only growing in size until every surface in the bathroom had the same thin coating of water across its surface. Alphonso didn’t particularly enjoy the task of showering but he did like how calm it made him. It was as if the bathroom door locked everything bad outside, Alphonso could just relax as the warm water continuously streamed down his body. He scrubbed most of the blood off of him, his fingers lightly grazing over the injuries he had given himself throughout the five-week-long solo mission. Those will go away in due time, he thought as he began to rinse all of the white soap suds off of his body.

Stepping out feeling much better, more relaxed, and less gross, Alphonso grabbed his towel and started drying off whilst standing in front of the mirror. The steam on the mirror was beginning to fade away, which meant it was at the point in his routine where he would put pomade in his naturally curly hair. The steam on the mirror started fading from the top down and Alphonso, standing at six foot two, could see his hair clearly at the top of the mirror, with the rest of his face and upper-body slowly coming into view. His hands, that were running through his hair spreading the product, slowed to a standstill. They cautiously slid down to gently trace over his face as more of it cleared up in the mirror. Alphonso did not look like this yesterday. In fact, he had never looked like this before. The right side of his face was starting to droop downwards like it was melting.

His thoughts raced as he was staring at this mutilated version of himself in the mirror, the steam fully gone by now. He noticed some definition in texture on his chest and upper body but his face was more concerning. He could not think of a time he went on a mission that affected him this severely, he didn’t know what was happening to his skin. Alphonso tried thinking about if something like this had ever happened before. Surely, this had happened in the past. Maybe not as extreme as right now but he had to have noticed something. No matter how hard he tried, his mind was coming up empty, zero explanations as to what was happening to his face. He continued to stare in horror, his eyes widened. It hit him.

A couple of years back after a big ‘full force of the academy’ mission, he had come home with his siblings after they saved the city, yet again. It seemed like a normal mission and he was ready to sit down and relax, they all deserved it at that point. However, as he let out a huge sigh, he could feel the beady eyes of each of his siblings, the people who knew what his face looked like since they were born. They instantly could tell if something was off about it. All of them looked at him strangely and then bombarded him with questions, comments (and for Ben, some small jokes) such as: “What happened to you?”, “That looks like it’s uncomfortable, do we need to get Mom?”, “Did you get into the lighter drawer again?”, “Are you okay?”, “You look different.” Alphonso was overwhelmed by all of their voices at once, not being able to process each question and give a direct answer because he didn’t even know what the problem was. He shot up, harshly pushed through his siblings, and ran upstairs to his room. Slamming the door, he walked into his bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, looking at the right side of his face and the not-so-subtle disfiguration on it. How was this happening? This doesn't happen to normal people, why now, why him?

Over the course of the next hour, he tried everything to bring his face back to what it normally looked like. Pushing it back into place, taping it, using his powers to try and control it, but nothing seemed to work. He fell asleep stressed, very disheartened, and scared for what he would look like when he woke up, and possibly for the rest of his life. He didn’t want to be ridiculed or made fun of due to the fact that his face looked like lumpy clay. However, when he woke up the next morning, it seemed to have gone away, leaving no trace of the loose skin ever being there. He thought it was just due to the overuse of his powers and thought nothing of it ever again. That was until today, where he stood looking at the skin practically falling off of his face. This is never going to fix itself, he thought.

He decided that he was done wallowing in self pity and grabbed his clothes. Getting dressed and trying to ignore the recently wounded and scarred parts of his body from the past five weeks was difficult on its own. Trying to ignore the places where he was melting was even harder and it irked him every second that he could see it. The loose skin was getting in the way of him putting his shirt on and he could feel the differences in where the cloth sat over his skin and that made him feel horrific, awful, and hideous, akin to a monster. Alphonso tried to ignore this dreadful feeling like he did with all the others but he could not shake this specific one. He exited his bathroom and started walking downstairs, hearing the faintest of noises from the living room. His mood quickly lightened, the corners of his mouth perking up at the thought of seeing his family again. He always liked family time, even if they were still a little upset with him. He wandered into the living room and stuffed his hands in his pockets. This was different, there was no bickering, no laughing, no sounds of glasses being clinked together after a job well done. Instead, everyone was crowded around the television, all leaning slightly forward to get a clearer view of the pictures on screen. Normally they’re down here at this time to watch the news but they have never had their faces practically pressed against the glass.

Alphonso stood behind the hoard of siblings and next to one of Fei’s ravens who was always keeping a lookout. He speaks up and breaks the near silence that the siblings had maintained, the low sound of the television being the exception. “What are you guys watching?” he questioned, a little confused because his siblings have never been this tuned into late night news, normally they only watched to receive compliments from a hard day’s work. He didn’t think his siblings actually cared about what some low life news anchors had to say about their crime fighting style. The siblings slowly turned their attention away from the tv and towards their confused brother. The movement of his siblings unblocked the sound, and visual, from the news and he could finally hear what the broadcasters were talking and laughing about.

“What in the world has happened to Sparrow Academy member Number Four? Recent shots from our paparazzi show that his face is completely deformed! Did he get into a big accident?”

“Maybe he got plastic surgery to finally fix his cheekbones and it went horribly wrong, celebrities are always doing things like that. It never works, people!”

“And he’s been MIA for five weeks! Who knows what he got himself into, is it drugs or something worse? More on this soon with Fox Channel 5 News, live from New York, stay tuned.”

When the news anchors faded to black, the only thing he could hear was his heartbeat. His face paled and the bad feelings he was experiencing earlier only came back stronger, festering in him like a big ball of rage, anxiety, and insecurity building in his chest. He was staring at the television in a frozen state, completely shocked and confused. How did they even get pictures of him, his mission was in a remote area! Jayme was the first to utter a sentence, something she never did around their demanding family. “Is this true?” she asked hesitantly, not trying to tip-toe around her brother but also not believing a word of what the news said. Alphonso’s heartbeat only raced faster, how could they say these things about him! He’s saved countless people, including those same people on the news. Multiple times. Alphonso wouldn’t doubt that their many near death experiences came from their inability to mind their own business. He knew that this type of culture was common for the general public to consume and be opinionated on but it wasn’t fair that they could just drag his name through the mud like this. He didn’t like it at all.

He snapped out of his trance and looked Jayme straight in the eye, “Of course it’s not, I don’t care about that sort of stuff, and I am not a druggie.” he spit out, while crossing his arms. He was more than a little upset that his sister and best friend, the person that knew him better than anyone, would think that he would do something that damaging to himself. Sure, his power was literally hurting himself but this was entirely different. He glanced over at Ben, thinking that out of all of his siblings, Ben would be the most likely to do something like that, not Alphonso, never Alphonso. He never had the call to be Number One but he did want to be the best he could be, plastic surgery and drugs would not help.

Marcus spoke next, “The news didn’t completely lie, you do look different. Something obviously happened on your missions, spit it out.” he commanded. Marcus had always felt, as Number One, it was his job to look after the whole team. Not only on missions but at home too. He wanted to make sure nothing happened to the tightly woven team so they could continue to be in their best shape. It became annoying before Alphonso even knew what the word annoying meant.

Alphonso’s face slowly morphed into a scowl, bitter that he even had to explain himself. He didn’t have to tell his family anything he didn’t want to and he certainly did not want to talk to them about this. He would have wanted to talk about anything else but this. Marcus continued staring him down, waiting for a good and definitive answer. Before Marcus could add something else, Ben chimed in with yet another one of his shithead comments. “Why the long face, Alphonso?” he said in his all too common snide tone. Two and Four were never ones to get along. They had always fought and clashed with opinions, ever since they were little. It was always Two picking on Four, with Four brushing it off, seeing it as not worth putting any effort to inflate Two’s ego even more. Except for this time. Ben’s comment pushed Alphonso over the edge altogether, his disfigured face started going from tan to a bright red and there was practically steam coming off of his head and out of his ears.

“I’m sorry Number Two,” he sneered, while slowly adjusting his gaze to Ben. “I was busy doing all of the hard work while you sat around taking pictures and looking pretty for a fucking magazine. You have done nothing this hard in the last five weeks, you’ve never even been on a mission longer than two!” Alphonso felt like this was finally his chance to tell his higher ranking brother off in front of the entire family. He would have done this a lot sooner but with everything going on all at once, there wasn’t a chance. This time he couldn’t hold back anymore. He took a big breath, then resumed. “For the past five weeks, I have been cut off from my family, from Jayme, and from the entire world! You can’t even go ten hours without having your name mentioned in a news outlet or you’ll lose it! Just because you got blessed with “gOoD gEnEs” does not mean you’re the best one here. You could never do what I just did, you will never ever be strong enough to permanently or temporarily wound your physical appearance or your media reputation to do your job. You know what? You were right! You were right when we were fourteen when you said ‘our place on the number line isn’t for organization’, that was true. It’s based on how strong you are and in that case, four. beats. two.” He moves his piercing attention away from Ben, who was standing there shell shocked by the fact that his emotionally puny little brother just stood up for himself. He was at a loss for words since he was rarely ever told off this way, and when he was it was not by Number Four. Alphonso then moved his gaze around the room at his other siblings while saying, “As for the rest of you, I don’t want to hear a single thing about this. From anyone, from the news, from Dad. Do not ask me about this again.”

Red faced, chest heaving, and breathless, still trying to process everything he had just said, Alphonso turned his back to his siblings and stormed upstairs, leaving them all in a state of confusion and shock. He didn’t come downstairs the day after, or the day after that. From then on, Alphonso started to only leave his room during missions and during the middle of the night when he knew nobody was awake. He stayed like that for the longest time, another layer of frost forming over his already frigid heart.

Chapter Text

It had been another successful mission for Four and Six. Another full day mission done to add the countless others on the list. Both Alphonso and Jayme knew that the past mission wasn’t the worst one they had faced together but that didn’t stop the aftermath from hurting like a bitch. Both of their bodies were worn out and battered, taking slow heavy steps as they staggered through the threshold of their ‘home’. Alphonso and Jayme begrudgingly made their way up the two sets of staircases, unable to ignore the striking pains that shot up their legs every time they stepped. They could both feel every single muscle and bone in their bodies throbbing and aching from being overworked, severed and/or broken. Finally reaching the top of the stairs, Jayme stumbled over to her room and Alphonso half-crawled to his room, right next to hers.

The two changed into their more comfortable Academy outfits, a zip up hoodie with a Sparrow Academy slogan tee and light grey sweatpants. All the Sparrows had access to a different wardrobe but you wouldn’t be able to tell what belonged to who with the same color palette reflecting across each closet. Zipping up the hoodie just under the halfway point, Jayme walked over to Alphonso’s room, knocking twice and opening the door. She lowered her eyes down to her smiling brother who half laid on the floor. He patted the spot of wood next to him, the color of the sienna wood fading into a muted version of itself. Jayme could already hear the quiet sound of their shared record player floating through the air in his room, the same record as every time before playing and soothing her nerves. Jayme snuck a small smile onto her face and sat next to him on the floor.

After every mission (solo, duo, or group), Four and Six would not-so-sneakily reunite after they got ‘home’ and take care of each other. Their mom was usually too busy conducting training exercises or making their next meal to attend to the wounds of the whole academy so all of them had to learn first aid of their own. Alphonso was the first one to catch on, subtly helping his siblings as they attempted to bandage themselves. One of his and Jayme’s first bonding moments was him helping her bandage some burns she had received from that day’s mission. From then on, it became a routine for them to help each other heal and feel as normal as they could get, this was not a rule for the rest of their siblings to follow and respect. As missions became tougher and the bad guys became more ruthless with their attacks, it led to some pretty painful injuries after a long day’s work. Still, Four and Six would reunite and bandage themselves up, keeping each other company to distract from the excruciating pain.

During these post-mission meetups, one sibling would stitch cuts closed, clean the others wounds, and all the other important resting things that were needed for the other to feel a sense of normality. Then the other sibling would do the same to the first. They continued to talk and laugh and rest up to regain their strength together. Without the other, Jayme and Alphonso felt incomplete, half of an entity with an unfillable void. The other siblings knew this and, for the sake of the team, let the pair be because they were more productive this way. Jayme and Alphonso kept this post-mission tradition up for many years, performing the same tasks and talking about the same things. However, the tasks never became tedious and the conversations never became stale. Guess that’s what happens when you spend every waking moment with your best friend.

Together they didn’t audibly talk much, Alphonso definitely talked out loud more than Jayme (which is not a hard amount to surpass). Usually when they’re alone, they have their conversations in sign language, seeing that Jayme was much more comfortable not speaking but still wanting to talk about her opinions. The whole academy had to learn sign language at an early age for Jayme’s sake, although Alphonso was really the only one to learn it fully and continue to use it long after their lessons.

The last vital part of their post-mission meet up was the sound of their record player playing a soothing song in the background. Every single time without fail, the pair would have their record player out to keep them company, the barely audible scratches being drowned out by the soft sounds of the record being played. The music was first put on in the background to keep them from feeling too lonely or awkward when the conversation hit a lull. Now, the music has become another friend, always having the same advice to give with the same melody and the same rhythm. It was nice to have something stay so consistent in a life that was full of ever changing details and situations.

Today, as every other day, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John was playing. The album was their favorite record in their small but growing collection, with the album becoming the soundtrack to their favorite pastimes and small get-togethers. As the record continues to play, Jayme half listens as she disinfects some of Alphonso’s open wounds and softly slaps Band-Aids with their family’s logo on them. The Band-Aids were a good marketing strategy, as they knew it would be. The kids of the city all wanted to be superheroes, especially a part of the triumphant Sparrow Academy, and this seemed like their next big step to becoming just like their heroes. Accompanying snapshots of each Sparrow’s face, the text on the Band-Aids said things like “Crime’s Greatest Enemy” or “Crime’s the problem, we’re the solution,” along with some small catchphrases that each Sparrow coined as their own. It was a small personal touch to the more corporate designs, with pictures of the team and their logo dawned on each piece. Jayme slowly peeled off the maroon-dyed back adhesive and gently stuck it on the last of Alphonso’s exposed wounds as the final lyrics on the first side of the vinyl concluded.

Alphonso reached over to the now silent record player and flipped the vinyl over to the second side, setting the needle down before grabbing a fresh cloth and the disinfectant. He began working on Jayme’s wounds as the music began to swell to life, apologizing quietly after every time she winced from the sudden pain. The second side of the record had become Jayme’s favorite, seeing as it was the side with the lesser known hits. Alphonso knew this after years of seeing Jayme hum along to the record and began to do the same when Jayme found herself in stressful situations. He started lightly humming along to the music to calm his sister down as he applied the disinfectant that stung and bubbled as soon as it touched her open wounds. The bubbling and the sudden sting vanished as quick as it came and all that was left was a very delicate scab over the fresh wound. Jayme always got matching Band-Aids with her brother, handing him the exact same bandages she used on him and pointing to where she wanted them. As Alphonso set aside the maroon-dyed back adhesive, he not-so-stealthily transferred some of Jayme’s injuries to himself, looking up and meeting her menacing death glare. He always tried this and always got caught, leading Jayme to be very annoyed at the thought of her brother hurting his already sore body for her benefit. Since Jayme couldn’t make him give the pain back, she always settled on giving him an even more noiseless silent treatment until he gave her those unbearably, inconvenient puppy-dog-like eyes that he always used to get a reaction out of her. With that, it usually brought her back into her normal silence levels.

They both slowly stood up, about to put the record player away since 11 pm had become their ‘designated bedtime’ even though they were fully grown and capable adults, until the last song on the second side came on. This was Jayme’s all time favorite on this record and Alphonso obviously knew. He lightly held onto Jayme’s arm and pulled her into the middle of the room, a safe enough distance away from the record player. Meeting her brother’s eyes, she gave him a very confused and suspicious look. She knows he’s trying to make her dance but there’s no way in hell she will. He always tries to get his sister to bust a move and dance like there’s no tomorrow, even with the constant reminder of burning muscles and fresh wounds with every exertion. He knows she doesn’t dance but it’s still very funny to see him bust out all of his horrendous moves in an attempt to loosen her up. Occasionally, to humor her brother’s attempts, she taps her foot and Alphonso always takes that as a win and lets her go. Jayme smiles as she slightly waves goodbye to her favorite brother, dragging her legs across the hallway rug to her room. The pair both shut their doors at the exact same time, announcing to the whole academy that they were finally off to sleep.
- -
The following week, the exact same thing happened, just as it had with every other duo mission. Both of them came home struggling to stand and covered in injuries, whining and groaning all their way up the stairs, joints popping and muscles loudly objecting against going up the same two flights of stairs over again. Eventually, they made it to their neighboring quarters and opened the doors to their respective rooms before hobbling in. This was always the easy part, no matter how excruciatingly painful it was. They were both supposed to get re-dressed into their more comfortable Sparrow Academy outfits and Jayme was supposed to come over so they could fix each other up, that was their routine. Jayme zipped her hoodie a little below halfway and left her room, softly knocking on Alphonso's door to alert him that she was ready to hangout. As she opened the door, she realized that she was the only one who kept up her end of the ritual this time.

She walked in to just see her brother standing a couple feet away from the entrance to his room. He hadn't changed and was still in his bloodied, torn outfit, gripping his overnight bag so hard that his knuckles were turning white from the pressure. Jayme was very confused to say the least, this had never, ever happened before. If anything, she would be the most likely of the two to skip out on the meetup, not Alphonso. However, this did not feel like a normal ‘skipping out’ situation, she could easily tell something was off, immediately walking over to her brother’s side. Instead of him facing her with his injured and bloody face, his eyes stayed fixated on the floor. As she followed his gaze to the floor, she immediately understood what had made Alphonso vary from their shared routine.

They were both looking down at the floor, a mix of mechanical parts, hard shell covers, and vinyl pieces shattered across Number Four’s floor. It took her a second to realize what was truly going on but she immediately knew that the seemingly pieces of scrap were record player parts, their record player parts. The record player that they had grown up with, learned to love, and loved to use. All those pastimes were now just memories as the pieces of metal and torn apart wires sat there, lifeless and unaware of the countless times they made Four and Six smile.

The two siblings didn’t know how to feel or react at this moment. This felt like mourning the loss of a friend, even if it was an inanimate object that only did its job once they moved the metal needle into the correct position. They just stood there together in complete silence, unable to move their beading and burning eyes away from the devastating view. Eventually, Alphonso shuffled away to put his bag down on his bed, his arm muscles screaming from relief. He turned around expecting to be met with the same heartbroken Jayme in her standing position. Instead, he saw his sister sitting down in her spot, in front of the now shattered, unfixable, and almost unrecognizable record player. The vinyl wasn’t even taken out before the priceless machine was mutilated and destroyed. There were shattered parts of their special irreplaceable record laying in the middle of the debris, the shiny black material glimmering with the light from the ceiling. The only thing that wasn’t completely destroyed was the needle, only suffering a small dent on each side. Jayme picked up the needle and held it delicately, as if it would shatter into a million pieces if she added any more pressure to her grip. She was never one to get sad about physical possessions, not even when Marcus and Ben fought over her favorite stuffed animal of all time and destroyed it when they were kids. She remembered watching the fuzz of the stuffed animal fly all around the room and not batting an eye at it. She never really cared as much as she should have with these kinds of things but not today, not now. Right now, she was devastated and it showed all over her injured, beaten face.
Alphonso slowly joined his sister on his bedroom floor, mourning their shared, prized possession beside the only other sibling that cherished it as soon as the academy got their hands on it. However, he was not as desolate as Jayme at this moment. In fact, he was furious, fuming and hostile, waiting at any moment to explode like a balloon ready to pop. He knew out of all of his siblings that stayed home while him and Jayme were on their mission, there was only one who:

1. Held a grudge against him
2. Liked picking on him as a hobby
and 3. Had a motive to ruin the only good thing in his insubstantial life.

It was Ben, it was always Ben. Ben had to have done this, he was probably still upset that Alphonso deflated his ego and told him off in front of their entire family. His frown turned into a scowl, his focus becoming less and less defined as he thought of all the ways that Ben would pay for destroying such a valued possession of the two.

Jayme glanced over at her brother, hoping to see his expression match what she was feeling on the inside. She just found him staring at the broken pieces on the floor, eyes brimming with stinging tears. He looked broken and rageful at the exact same, and Jayme didn’t like it. She liked being in total sync with her brother, them understanding exactly what the other felt at any given moment. But now? Jayme and Alphonso were on completely different ends, standing so close yet feeling so distant. She looked back to the pile of broken electrical parts piled on the floor, letting her posture sag for the first time in years. While one sibling mourned the loss of one of their only sources of comfort, the other balled his fists up, thinking of all the ways to turn Number Two into a happy hour special. He didn’t know how, when or where, but he knew he would enact a retribution towards his ‘brother’.

Within the next few weeks, Numbers Four and Six kept up their routine as best as they could. No matter how hard they wanted to avoid it, their routine was slowly shattering and falling into shambles. They made many attempts to get another record player but were ultimately stopped by their father, deeming it a distraction to Number Four and Six’s end goal. Their routine wouldn’t be the same and their father wouldn’t change his mind so they essentially gave up.

They continued to prick, prod and fix each other up in ear-deafening silence, which was their only choice now. Jayme was more tense than ever after the past series of missions, making her winces and yelps all the more worrying. Alphonso could only hum the second side of the record for so long until he became overwhelmed with sadness or infuriated. His anger would fester to the point where the delicate hum turned into a menacing growl, which was not appealing or comforting to his hurting sister. Every day, Alphonso ruminated on ideas of revenge and arranged elaborate plans to get payback on Ben.

On the next few group missions, Alphonso would purposely make Number Two look bad in front of the public, slowly ruining his published and polished reputation. He knew from the shocked reaction plastered on Ben’s face every time he stepped outside that it was time to go to phase two. For weeks on end, Alphonso made sure Ben could not get any position in advertisements, sponsorships, magazine covers, or interviews. Every brand that he had worked with before hated him, the internet detested him and even his personal stylist gave him the cold-shoulder.

Alphonso continued to stage fights and very heated public arguments, guaranteed to make the front page before the swarming crowd of reporters. In interviews, he spewed lies about things Ben did at home like it was common knowledge. Telling the public that Ben strived to be better than Marcus and would do unthinkable things to get there. Alphonso told everyone that Ben was too dangerous and should not ever be trusted or even spoken to. Even if the things Alphonso said got him hurt, even if he lost the fights, even if it made his siblings grow distant from him, it would all be worth it if Ben felt something, anything close to what his brother and sister felt that forlorn night. Alphonso made the next three years of Ben’s life a living hell and never let go of the grudge, resisting the urge to fatally injure his brother every time he breathed in the same room as Alphonso. Ben eventually got back at him over the years but in less severe ways, which was honestly very surprising. Maybe he finally learned his lesson, maybe he didn’t and just wanted his spotlight back. In either case, Alphonso encased his heart in another thick layer of ice to make sure he never got this attached to something temporary again.

Chapter Text

Standing amongst his siblings in a line up following their numbers, all of them were not so equally battered and pummeled by one of their toughest opposers as of yet. The full force of The Sparrow Academy, not looking very full or forceful, nearly lost this battle. But that was impossible, The Sparrows never lost and they weren’t going to start now. Number Four looked up and down the line of his siblings and he saw that all of them were bleeding, broken or scraped in some way but still breathing, and still somehow fighting. He enjoyed this, he knew he was helping the citizens and he knew that he was making his father proud, or so he thought.

He came to the realization that all of his siblings had nearly perished in that brawl, for the fate of the city, when half of them had to be carried into The Academy and the other half collapsed as soon as they walked through the door. Jayme was among the carried. He thought they were invincible, they were raised to think they were invincible and that no matter what they could never ever give up, the children all had to give one-hundred percent effort all the time, even when they were on the verge of losing consciousness.

This wasn’t the first time he had seen him and his siblings at their most bone-weary, they had certainly been close to this level of exhaustion before but this was the first time that it actually hit Alphonso, his siblings could have died. No resurrections, no magic monkey serum, nothing Grace could do to bring them back, they could have been dead, dead. Alphonso, being the only one still standing (having given his opponent all his prominent injuries) was the one assigned to give their father a mission report.
Limping and leaving a small trail of blood, he hobbled his way to Sir Reginald’s office. Standing in front of his adoptive father’s desk, towering over him, he recited the mission report.

“Mission Report, August eleventh, 2016. Major damages to the central downtown area, two civilians injured, accused apprehended, threat eliminated.” He moved onto the team status, “Numbers One, Two, Three, Five, and Six, wounded severely, Number Seven took a few hits.” At this point, Reginald had stopped listening, but Alphonso droned on. “On behalf of my siblings I am requesting a week off of training, to recover, Sir.” This made his father pause in his writing and look up with a blank stare.
“Number Four, none of the members or The Sparrow Academy are getting time off, including you. All of you will be fine, you’re super, after all. Dismissed.” he responded, before looking back down and continuing his documentation, not caring in the slightest. This left Alphonso confused and concerned. How could his siblings continue to train when they couldn’t even stand?

He was never the one to give mission reports, it was always Marcus but he was passed out on the floor. Number Four made himself scarce and left the prestigious office. Number Six had woken up and was sitting on the floor by the office entrance. She heard the whole thing and observed her brother’s facial expressions that were showing emotions close to confusion and anger but more on the side of guilt and realization. All this time, he still had the little hope that there was part of their father that cared about their well being. He desperately tried to believe that their father would understand how his children felt, that he would understand their screams of pain. When he didn’t react to the news that the rest of his children were down, that hope shriveled up and circled down the drain.

Jayme saw outstanding disappointment on his face, directed at his father and himself. He shut the door and sank down into the floor next to his very wounded and very tired sister and became lost in his own thoughts. He should have learned sooner that Reginald didn’t care about the condition of the siblings, he didn’t even care if they lived or died for that matter. He was so ashamed of himself for still thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a spot in that old, wrinkled heart of his father’s, for his ‘children’ and their well being. He dropped his head down and slumped against the wall before whispering a small, “I’m sorry, I didn’t get us time off for training.” His tattered looking sister only shook her head and lightly grabbed his hand in response. He took this as a sign that it was okay before he spaced out into a deep spiral.
Alphonso was flipping through every memory of his father he had, from the early age of three years old, to his now twenty-five years old. He was filtering them for good memories, anytime his father had done something remotely good for their health and well being, and he was coming up empty. Every single memory that involved his father, all of that time, was dedicated to that ungrateful bastard for twenty-five whole years, and in none of that was a positive experience.

In the training room, when Ben impaired the team of siblings by saying something so hurtful it seared the top layer of Alphonso’s brain off. Sir Reginald did nothing about the situation, he thought it “built character” and “toughened his skin” and “prepared him for the real world because people were not going to be nice”. Never once did he try and put a stop to the relentless bullying of Two on Four, not even when it nearly tore the team apart because they got in a brawl so bad one nearly hospitalized the other, not when Two beat Four up hideously only to get the injuries returned to him and was incapacitated for a whole two days, not even when Two coined the term “Don’t pull an Alphonso!” after the Jayme situation. Sir Reginald did not care about them then.

He did not care when Jayme nearly died, of course he didn’t, Alphonso always speculated that it was a set up to get rid of the so-called ‘weak link’ when on the contrary Jayme was one of the strongest, emotionally and power wise. When she was dragged into The Academy, unconscious and thoroughly injured, he did not care. He did not request information on the situation, he did not go to check on her in the infirmary and he did not express any emotion or interest in the fact that the team almost broke. He only ordered Grace to tend to her injuries and then wake her up immediately. Sir Reginald, a terrible father, did not care about his children when they were terribly, horribly, injured.

He thought back on how a normal parent would have reacted if their child was getting relentlessly bullied and attacked in the media for suddenly having a different appearance. The normal parent would immediately come to their child’s defense, they would protect their child from any danger that came their way. He then thought about how his father reacted when that happened to him. His father only wanted to document his powers, to write down what was happening, why it was happening and how it could be controlled. He did not care about the fact that the media was squishing Alphonso’s self image into the ground, he only cared when that was interfering with missions, and then he jumped in and told him to “get over it” and “man up” because “there were more important things to deal with”. He did not care about the fact that for a period of Alphonso’s life he was severely depressed because he kept changing and the media kept getting more brutal about it, even if he was saving their lives. Sir Reginald did not care at all, he only wanted them all to work as hard as they could so he could reap the benefits.

Sir Reginald did not care when his precious Number Two came in from a solo mission, littered with shrapnel in his skin and unconscious on a stretcher, dripping blood. He did not care when it was figured out that his Number Two collided with a bomb that severely injured major arteries, along with deafening him to such an extent that he could not hear anything without electronic assistance. He did not care because Grace was programmed to be superior to regular doctors and she made sure Ben lived, he did not care because there was a solution to hearing loss that he could easily acquire with the snap of a finger, he did not care because at the end of the day, his machines were still running and could still be put to his use. Sir Reginald did not care if things left his children permanently scarred, physically or emotionally.

He thought back to the recent events with the record player. His father had observed the relationship of Four and Six, he knew about the record player and, for the sake of the team, let them keep it, for he observed their behaviors as well and noticed that they performed better after hard missions when they had it. Only for the sake of keeping their working status high, he let them keep it. When Ben destroyed it, he did not let them get a new one, when their morale went down he told them that the record player was a crutch, and they had to learn how to perform without it. He did not care that without it they were mentally drained, he did not care that it made them happier, he did not care as long as they did what they were told, and they always did. He did not care about their feelings, he wanted them to be working machines, machines that don't need crutches. Sir Reginald, a world renowned asshole, did not care about his children in the slightest.

Bringing his thoughts full circle, Alphonso looked back on today’s events. In a fight, on a mission for the city, the seven of them against one villain, the seven almost lost it all. All the fame, all the recognition, and most importantly, all the lives. They all came home in extremely horrible conditions, some of them not making it through the door conscious. Their ‘father’ did not care, he did not care when he heard the doors open, he did not care when he heard the groaning and whining of his children in agony, he did not care when Alphonso came into his office and told him that they almost fell through today, since it was only almost. He did not care when Four and Six sat outside of his office, mourning the day. He did not care at all for the sole reason that every member of The Sparrow Academy still had a beating heart at the end of the day, so they were still useful.

Realizing after so long why you got weird looks from the majority of your siblings because you did not see what they were seeing is hard, and it’s exactly what Alphonso is going through right now. Never once in his life, or his shared life with his siblings, did they ever receive a loving and thoughtful word or gesture from their father. All these years, he had struggled, fought and searched for a reason behind the things his father did that had something to do with loving his children and wanting the best for them. Sir Reginald was not fond of the idea of caring for his children. After all, he only cared about saving the world. Even the motivation that he gave his ‘children’ was corrupt, it was always “Be stronger than The Umbrella Academy, they let the world end! Be a team, save the world.” He always compared them to their alternative siblings and it was a terrible motivation that worked. The Sparrows were raised to see The Umbrellas as the enemy, the target to beat, the rock bottom, the worst possible outcome. It made them want to be better, to not be failures. Instead, they were lap-dogs, having no individual lives outside of their superheroing. They didn’t know anything else.

Sitting on the floor of their house, scattered and in various positions. The Sparrow Academy looked like failures. They might have won this fight, but they would never win the long game. Alphonso, with an injured Jayme leaning on his shoulder, looked around at his very, very messed up family and let out a small, upset sigh. All this time he’d been backing up a terrible person, he was on his father’s side because he truly didn’t see how badly they were treated as a family. Maybe his siblings always seemed to hold grudges against him because of that, maybe the fact that he thought his father was always right was why they shunned him, maybe that’s why he was only friends with Jayme. The family outcasts do make a pretty good pair.

He leaned his head against the office door with a small thunk and shut his eyes. Today was rough, physically and emotionally, but there are no flowers without rain. The realization that Sir Reginald was in fact not a good father was something that connected the team. Alphonso had been out of that team for so long but the strings were finally cut.

For the first time in his life, a layer of ice formed over his heart but this time, it was for a good reason. The ice formed to keep his father out of it, to remind him that whatever happened to Sir Reginald Hargreeves, he had it coming. Number Four put his walls up and did not ever take them down, deflecting everything with a caustic and biting sense of humor, and following family rules only if they were acceptable to the rest of the siblings’ standards. Because his father wouldn’t dictate him anymore. He was his own person now, with a rageful personality underneath the tough, comedic, and ice cold surface.