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Chapter Text

A phone trilled a million miles away, melting into the white noise that buzzed in Diego’s ears. Numerous voices chattered away, accompanied occasionally by an angry shout from somewhere deep within the station. The strong breeze of the fan pushed the papers around on Diego’s desk, he didn’t look up as he flicked them neatly back to their original spot. His head was pushed down, almost parallel with the desk, and his nose was so close it could almost touch the paper in front of him.

The paperwork was the worst part of the job, and unfortunately, the most common. Paperwork doesn’t get any easier, you don’t like it, you won’t last a minute, the sergeant had told him on his first day. So Diego shut up and put his head down, he wanted to last, he had to.

Diego already sparked a somewhat negative reputation for himself after only making it through the police academy by the skin of his teeth. Physical training was easy enough, he passed it with flying colours. Guess that was one thing he could thank his father for. Although, he was notorious for being too rough during the sparring sessions. However, it was the academic part that he struggled in. The rules the Umbrella Academy followed for mission didn’t exactly line up with police code, meaning there were quite a few times where Diego was drilled about ethics and morals.

But he made it. And that’s all that mattered to him. He didn’t come top of the class, he didn’t need to, because it wasn’t the police academy that mattered the most, it was the real world. With real crimes and real justice he could serve.

At least… that’s what he thought it would be.

So far, it had been three long weeks of shitty hours and patrols with nothing but petty crimes.

And the fucking paperwork.

Speaking of which, Diego had let his mind wander and he forced his attention back to the case in front of him. It was a standard traffic citation, pretty stupid in Diego’s books, considering there are people out there who are committing much worse crimes- and he’d witnessed them first hand- and he had to deal with stupid shit like someone running a red light.

"Diego!" an astonished voice called from behind him, and even though it’d been four years since he last heard that voice, it was undeniably his brother, Klaus.

Diego leapt out of his chair like it was on fire and he spun to face his estranged brother.

"Klaus?" he asked, even though there was no need to.

Klaus had been cuffed by Beaman and was in the midst of being escorted back to the holding cells. The first thing Diego noticed was his clothes, which were bright and offensive against the dull interior of the station, as well as in dire need of washing. His hair had grown longer than their father would ever permit and had an unruly curl to it. His face was slimmer than before, which was concerning to Diego.

"I knew I’d recognise that brooding figure anywhere!" Klaus exclaimed.

Despite his rundown appearance, the smile on his face hadn’t faltered in the slightest since their childhood years. In fact, Diego could say it was almost brighter than it was in the last few years of living in the Academy.

"And look at you!" he continued. "Lookin’ all sharp in your navy button-down!"

Diego tugged self-consciously at the sleeves on his shirt.

"Shut up, Klaus," he muttered.

Beaman took this time to interject. "You know this clown, Hernandez?"

Klaus pouted in mock-offence, brushing off the fake last name. "Does he know this clown? Of course he knows me, he’s my-"

"Cousin!" Diego jumped in, way too loud for the conversation they were having.

Beaman’s brow creased at Diego’s abrupt interruption and Klaus’ mouth dropped open in surprise. Diego hurried to change the topic, stepping closer to the pair so he could talk to them without causing such a scene. Closer to Klaus, he noticed the dilated pupils and could practically feel the heat radiating off of his skin.

He clasped the back of Klaus’ neck and dragged him closer to himself. "You’re high?" Diego hissed.

Klaus let out a sarcastic huff of laughter, unfazed by the rough treatment from Diego. "Do we really have to do this, Diego?" His breath reeked of a bar and Diego pulled back with a disgusted look, not releasing his tight hold on his brother’s neck.

"C’mon, man, you can’t do this," Beaman muttered, jerking his head towards Diego’s hold.

Diego looked over his shoulder to find he’d caught the attention of several other officers and released his brother. "What’d the idiot get arrested for?"

Beaman nudged Klaus ahead of him towards the holding cells and Diego watched as he tripped over his feet.

"Public intoxication," Beaman said.

"And breaking and entering," Klaus added.

Diego rolled his eyes. "Why would you admit that, bro?"

Klaus threw a look over his shoulder and rolled his eyes in return to Diego’s question. "I was caught with my ass stuck halfway through a window, Di, there wasn’t much getting around it."

Diego shook his head. "Don’t let it happen again," he said in a tone he once used to mock Luther.

"Yeah, okay, sure," Klaus agreed, noncommittally.

Klaus was pushed into the cell and with a loud slam, he was locked behind the bars. He was quick to make himself comfortable. His lanky limbs dangled off the bench as he threw himself upon it, shutting his eyes to appear asleep, but the way he muttered to thin air begged to differ.

After noticing that Beaman has once more, taken off down the corridor to file in the paperwork, Diego took off in a jog to catch up to him.

Beaman was a nice enough guy. Diego wouldn’t be confident enough to call him a friend, Diego wasn’t even confident he has friends. But they went through the police academy together, and Beaman stuck by his side no matter what the other recruits said. They also get drinks after work with the other rookies on a semi-regular basis. But Diego didn’t consider them friends.

"Hey, we don’t really need to file this, right?" Diego asked, keeping his voice low and his eyes on the other cops around them.

Beaman halted in his steps so quickly Diego almost ran into the back of him. When Beaman turned he has a surprised look in his eyes and his brows furrowed as he asked Diego, "Are you serious?"

"I mean… yeah."

Beaman shook his head. "I can’t just commit fraud. Man, I know he’s your cousin but I gotta file this still."

Diego bit back the childish urge to hurl an insult his way. He knew Beaman was right (not that he’d admit it) but that was his brother behind bars and he’d do just about anything to get him out. "Fine," he huffed, "how much is bail?"

"$400."

"Shit," Diego muttered under his breath.

That was almost his entire savings, he’d be left with mere dollars until his next paycheck. He looked back over his shoulder in the direction of the holding cells and rolled his eyes.

"Fine. I’ll pay it. How long until he can get out?" Diego asked.

Beaman resumed walking back to his desk. "Regulations say we can’t let him out until he’s sober, which judging by the state he’s in… won’t be for a while."

Diego shook his head. "Nah, that’s just Klaus, he should be good to go by the end of my shift."

Beaman sighed. "If you say so, man."

Diego nodded his head and raced back to his desk throwing a quick shout over his shoulder to Beaman telling him he was taking his break.

Despite being only two hours into his twelve hour shift, Diego snatched up his keys and raced back to his apartment in search of the cash needed to get his brother out. He made it back to the station with a minute to spare and the cash in hand. The rest of the nine and a half hours were spent with his leg bouncing and his eyes flitting to the clock every few minutes, huffing at the audacity for time to crawl by at such a slow rate.

Finally, as soon as the clock struck 11 pm, Diego was up from his chair and back to the holding cells, where Klaus chatted animatedly with a disheveled woman and occasionally acknowledged the thin air beside him.

"Klaus!" he called out, holding up the keys he obtained from Beaman.

"Ah, Diego, dear! Come to release me?" Klaus hopped up from the bench, holding the bars of the cell loosely.

"Unfortunately," Diego muttered, hiding his relief that Klaus’ withdrawal symptoms didn’t seem to be so bad this time.

He unlocked the cell door and allowed Klaus to slip through, shooting a stern look to the woman who tried her luck of slipping after him.

Once the keys were handed back to Beaman, the two exited the station, one brother much more eager than the other.

"Phew, that place gives me the heebie-jeebies," Klaus said, a shudder running through him. He turned to Diego with a cheesy grin on his face. "Well, thanks for the bail!" And promptly turned on his heel and started down the street.

Diego grabbed the back of his coat. "Oh no you don’t," he said, hauling Klaus back beside him, "you’re coming home with me."

"What? No, c’mon, Di!"

"Yes, bro. You don’t have a place to stay, you can stay with me for a little."

"Who said that?"

"Said what?"

"That I don’t have a place to stay?"

Diego rolled his eyes. "You did. Or at least I assume so seeing as you were caught breaking and entering."

Klaus let out a loud sigh. "Fine!"

Diego jerked his head towards the direction of his apartment. "Come on, it’s this way."

They walked the dark streets in silence, which lasted for a whole 30 seconds until Klaus broke it. "So, Hernandez, huh?"

"Shut up, it was the first name I could think of."

Chapter Text

Klaus only managed to stay one night before he slipped out of Diego’s apartment and back into the streets of the city, taking with him the cash in Diego’s wallet and several of his valuable items. To say Diego was pissed was an understatement. He berated himself constantly, what else should he have expected from his drug-addict brother? He felt stupid as to assume Klaus would hang around any longer than absolute needed. Did Diego think that Klaus would actually accept his help? That the two of them could work through it like a team? Now he’s just thinking like Luther- and that’s a path of dangerous levels of stupidity.

Months melted away and slowly so did Diego’s anger. He only had himself to blame for the situation. It helped enormously that he hadn’t seen Klaus since, whether Klaus was staying out of trouble (unlikely) or was avoiding Diego for fear of confrontation (likely), Diego didn’t care, because at least he wasn’t around.

The key word being wasn’t.

Diego’s leaning against the front desk of the station, making idle small talk with the pretty girl, Delilah, sitting behind it. He wasn’t really keen on asking her out, but Patch had pushed him to make a move, telling him he needed to put himself out there (Diego considered it ironic that she of all people told him to do so).

Now Diego had to stand by her desk while his co-workers watched with mild curiosity as he pretended to flirt with her for their benefit.

"So… how long you been working here?" he asked, drumming his fingers on the desk in between them.

She shot him an unimpressed look. "Three years. You’re one of the rookies, aren’t you?"

Diego frowned, he’s shit at this. Both flirting and small talk. It’s not like he got a lot of practice of either during his days with the Umbrella Academy.

"Uh, yeah- Well, I’ve been here a few months-" Diego cut himself off as a tall, lanky figure entered in the front doors. The black, fur-trim coat a little more tame than what he was wearing last time, but still just as flamboyant.

Klaus waltzed straight up to the desk, ignorant of Diego until he cleared his throat. Klaus jumped a foot into the air. "Oh! Uh, Diego! You’re here…"

"I work here."

"Yes, of course I know that. I was just told," Klaus shot a glare to the air over his shoulder, "that you weren’t in today."

Diego narrowed his eyes and folded his arms. All hopes of talking to Delilah gone as his brother had once again taken the limelight. "Who’s telling you my work schedule?"

Klaus bat his hands. "That’s unimportant, Diego, dear, no need to get your little panties in a bunch!"

"What do you want, Klaus?" Diego asked, his voice tight and unimpressed.

"Nothing from you, mi hermano-" Klaus was cut off by his own yelp as Diego dragged him hurriedly away from the desk.

"Cousin. I told everyone we’re cousins," he hissed.

"You still haven’t told them?"

"No. And I’m not going to."

Klaus gaped at Diego. "It’s a slippery slope."

"What are you here for? I don’t have any money to give you."

"Rude. I’m not here for your petty cash, Diego." Klaus craned his neck over Diego’s shoulder. "I’m here for the lost and found… any idea where it is?"

Diego scowled. "Ask reception."

Klaus clapped his hands and pat Diego on the shoulder, rambling out his thanks as he breezed by and over to the desk. Diego should go back to his desk, sit down, and work on the case he’s been stuck on for three hours. He should sling a 'goodbye' over his shoulder to Klaus and distance himself from his "cousin" as much as possible. That’s what he wanted, right? When he left the Academy, Diego wanted to be his own person and as far away from his father and his siblings and the disarray that was left of the Umbrella Academy as humanly possible.

Diego wasn’t going to go back to his desk.

With a huff and over dramatic eye-roll that no one could even see, Diego followed Klaus, who speaking of, was already smiling widely at Delilah, who in return was laughing loudly at something he just said.

"…Anyway I was just hoping I could get a tinsy peek at the lost and found, you know? Nose around a bit?" Klaus asked.

Delilah nodded easily. "Sure, follow me and I’ll take you there!" Diego couldn’t help but notice the shift in her attitude.

He’d never been good with people. He’s not a people-person. Growing up with only his siblings, parents and Pogo for company meant that Diego had a hard time breaking out of his shell. Combined with the fact he couldn’t form a full sentence without his stutter breaking it up until his teens, meant that Diego never had to speak much during interviews either. Which, to his deeply hidden joy, gave him the reputation of the broody, mysterious member of the Umbrella Academy.

However, Diego wasn’t actively trying to change any of that. He preferred to keep to himself. His own company was preferable to that of someone he would have to watch what he says; ensuring he didn’t let anything slip about his past that could land him in hot water.

"What are you even looking for?" Diego asked Klaus, trailing behind the pair who were still chatting away.

"Oh, you’ll know it when you see it," Klaus responded.

After the vague answer, and a lifetime of Klaus detailing a story about the time he’d painted a cat orange and black and tried to sell it as a baby tiger, they’d ended up in the back room that held the lost and found box. It was a dodgy cardboard box that was collapsing in on itself and held an assortment of goods. From baseballs, to cassette players to watches, everything that had been brought in over the years had been chucked in here.

Klaus dug straight in, filtering through the items with a newfound determination. He held up several things to the dim light of the storeroom and would turn them over in his hands before shaking his head and tossing them back. Until finally, he turned an expensive-looking, gold bracelet over and brought it close to his eye, examining it with care. "Found it!" He yelled, disturbing the peace of the room.

Delilah, who had been flicking through files in another box elsewhere, jumped a foot into the air. Diego, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes at Klaus. "That’s yours?"

Klaus fastened it on his wrist. "C’mon, Diego, you don’t remember my favourite bracelet?" He dropped his hand back by his side and the bracelet slipped off his wrist and onto the floor with a tinkle. Klaus scooped it up before anyone could blink.

"Klaus-"

"Well! That does me! Later!" Before Diego could even interject, Klaus had taken off down the hall, a pep to his step and Diego could only guess that the bracelet would end up in the nearest pawn shop in a matter of minutes.

Chapter Text

he shrill sound of a drunk man singing Bohemian Rhapsody from the cells was the first thing that greeted Diego as he walked into work for the beginning of his night shift.

"Ugh, it’s too early in my shift for this shit," he groaned to Patch, slumping down in the chair by her desk.

She levelled him with a bored look. "It’s his fourth rendition," she said. "Besides, it’s your cousin that’s singing it."

Diego groaned louder, dragging his hand down his face. "Shit."

He pushed up from the chair, making his way towards the holding cells, where the singing was only getting louder and more obnoxious.

"Mama! Life had just begun! But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away!" Klaus’ voice was pitchy and loud.

"Shut it, Hargreeves!" Another cop yelled, but Klaus’ voice only rose in volume.

"MAMA! OHHH! DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE YOU CRY, IF I’M NOT-"

"Klaus… Klaus… KLAUS!" Diego yelled over top of his brother’s voice.

The singing stopped as Klaus’ eyes landed on Diego.

"Oh! Di!" He pressed himself up against the bars, his long arms slung through and made grabby motions for Diego.

Diego shuffled forward, half-heartedly patting one of Klaus’ hands before he stepped back so Klaus couldn’t hold his hand like Diego knew he wanted to. He threw a cautionary glance over his shoulder at the other officer, who watched the interaction with a raised eyebrow.

"Klaus," Diego muttered, "what are you here for?"

Klaus waved his hands around. "Crime."

Diego sighed and turned his back to his brother. "Jones, how long 'till he’s outta here?" He asked the officer on duty.

Jones narrowed his eyes and glanced around Diego at Klaus, who attempted to grab the back of Diego’s shirt to pull him closer. He directed his glare back at Diego before giving a careless shrug. "Dunno."

"What do you mean you don’t know? Who was his arresting officer?" Diego demanded.

"I was."

"So you should know when he’s getting out."

"And you should know not to raise your voice at a superior officer," Jones said. His voice boomed around the room, gaining the attention of the other offenders and officers. "The twink will get out when I say so."

Klaus’ hands, which were brushing the back of Diego’s shirt, froze.

"What’d you call him?" Diego asked.

"A fuckin’ twink. What’s it to you? He your boyfriend?" Jones taunted.

"Fuck this," Diego said. Without a second thought he threw his fist into Jones’ face, Diego’s knuckles landed with a satisfying crunch against Jones’ nose. Upon impact, blood sprayed out, covering his knuckles and fist and Jones’ face.

Several minutes later, Diego found himself face to face with Captain Sylvester, who only watched him with a tired look.

"Hernandez, we’ve been through this-" Sylvester started.

"I don’t give a shit! He’s fuckin’ homophobic!" Diego ranted, effectively cutting off Sylvester who sunk into his seat and dragged his hand over his face, allowing Diego to continue. "I bet he arrested Klaus just 'cause he didn’t like the way he looked! It’s corruption. The whole system is fucked. We’re supposed to be promoting justice, not perpetuating it."

"Are you done?" Sylvester asked.

Diego folded his arms. "I could go on."

"Please don’t."

Diego slumped into the chair across from the captain, his nails dug deep into his arms and his chest heaved.

"Look, Hernandez, I don’t know how many times we have to go through with this. It’s getting to the breaking point, and the other officers are starting to file complaints about your temper. And to be honest, I’m starting to worry myself. There will have to be disciplinary action." Diego opened his mouth to protest but Sylvester held up his hand. "But, today will not be that day. Jones has been suspended- effective immediately- and a note has been made in his file."

"That’s not enough."

"It is for now. There’s not enough proof and even if there was… something like this isn’t enough to create concern on the grounds to fire him. Look… I know you, you’re a good kid. And Hargreeves has been in here often enough that I know you care for him. Jones’ behaviour has been on my radar for a bit, and this won’t slide with me."

Diego nodded his head. "Thanks, Cap."

"But, any other captain would have your ass handed to you. Consider yourself lucky, Hernandez. Now get outta here, and take the rest of the night off."

"Yes, sir," Diego said. He scurried out of the room like a dog with its tail between its legs. Around the bullpen, the other officers watched him from the corner of their eyes. Diego took immediate notice of this and held up his shoulders as he strode to Patch’s desk. He tapped it once and her eyes shot up as if she’d been expecting him. She raised her eyebrows as if to ask, so?

"I’ll see you tomorrow," Diego said, loud enough that everyone eavesdropping would be able to hear.

She looked pleasantly surprised. "Alright then. See you, Hernandez."

With that, Diego stalked out of the precinct, glad to be out of that shit-hole for at least the rest of the day.

Out on the street, Klaus was leaning against the entrance of the station, his long limbs stretched out, almost tripping the passerbyers on the street.

"Klaus."

Klaus jerked his head towards Diego, a cheesy grin gracing his features. "Diego! My hero!" He swooned.

Diego rolled his eyes but allowed Klaus to drape himself over him in a hug that ended in a tangle of limbs. "Yeah, yeah." He pulled back.

"Ugh, so macho!" Klaus squeezed Diego’s bicep. "Sweeping in all like 'hey! You’re a homophobic asshole!' Pow!" Klaus swung his fist in imitation of Diego, who had to duck to dodge the flying fist.

"It was pretty cool."

Klaus thumped Diego’s back. "Was it ever. And hey, mon frère, you ever need someone to defend your honour, you know who to call."

Diego raised an eyebrow. "Sure, bro, in a heartbeat."

Chapter Text

Diego watched the black pool swirl, the steam rose, caressing his face. He didn’t flinch. Diego never liked black coffee- he still didn’t- but he heard one of the rookies get made fun of for asking for a 'frilly' drink on his first day, and now he sticks to black.

His head rested on his palm because he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold his head up on his own. He was so tired. Diego wracked his brain to remember the last time he had slept through the entire night- certainly not in the past two weeks.

Klaus had been crashing with him. It’d started with one night, which Diego was used to, Klaus dropping by when he was particularly desperate, he’d crash on the couch and be gone in the morning. What Diego hadn’t expected was the sniffling nose and dry, heaving cough that came alongside Klaus. Diego liked to think he’d taken it in stride, but deep down he knew those first nights he’d been a frantic mess. He’d promptly given up his bed to Klaus before he rushed to the nearest corner store in search of any cold medicine available and the whole store’s supply of chicken soup.

He’d hoped that Klaus would get better soon, but after the bouts of nausea and vomiting that came on Day 5, those hopes had been flushed down the drain. Withdrawal combined with a nasty fever, left a tired and weak Klaus, who Diego was apparently in charge of until he could get up on his feet without wobbling.

Klaus had pretty much cleared up by now, with only a residual cough and the occasional sniffle, Diego suspected that he was just taking advantage of the hospitality Diego had shown. He didn’t mind too much, he’d bitch about it to Klaus and anyone from the station that would listen, but it wasn’t bad having someone there at the end of a long shift. The cold had given Klaus a fucked up sleeping schedule, which meant he was almost always awake when Diego would get home, regardless of whether it’d been a day shift or night shift.

But a consequence of such niceness from Diego was the fever that had been given lovingly to him. His eyes slipped shut and he jolted back as he forced himself awake. Diego took a deep drink from the coffee in front of him, biting back a grimace at the sharp taste of burnt coffee. He rested his head back on his hand, maybe he could rest his eyes for just a minute.

"Yoohoo! Earth to Diego!" A sharp voice called directly in his ear.

Diego’s head jerked back, slamming into the face of the person behind him, who cried out. Diego looked over his shoulder to see Klaus standing, clutching his nose and pouting.

"Diego," he drew out, "that hurt!"

Diego cast a glance around the room to confirm he was in the precinct break room and not back in his boiler room. "What are you doing here?" He asked Klaus, confused.

Klaus pulled his hand back from his nose and examined it before wiping it back under his nose and checking his hand again. "Is there blood? I feel like there should be blood."

Diego’s head felt like someone had curb-stomped him, then pushed him in front of an oncoming truck and then that truck had knocked him into the path of a stampede of elephants. Klaus kept pressing on his nose and wincing at the pain. "There’s no blood," Diego told him.

Klaus huffed. "That was brutal. What’s got you so sleepy anyway, Mister?"

"You." Diego glared at Klaus, who had crossed the room and was now pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot Diego had brewed. "You gave me that stupid fever and now I feel like shit."

Klaus pulled a flask from his coat and filled the mug the rest of the way. "I thought you had a superhuman immune system or something."

"I would have, if someone hadn’t insisted on sharing my drinks and not getting their own damn cup."

"I just wanted a sip, and I was weak. My body was recovering, Di! I was in survival mode."

Diego rolled his eyes.

Klaus set his mug down on the counter and made his way over to the table Diego was sitting at, where a box of day-old donuts sat forgotten. Klaus wiggled his fingers over the open box. "Oh, don’t mind if I do."

"They're-"

Klaus shoved one in his mouth and pulled a face. "Diego," he yelled, aghast, "these are stale!" Bits of donut flew out his mouth and one landed in Diego’s coffee. He pushed it away, at least there was a reason not to drink it now.

"What are you doing here, Klaus?"

Klaus had roughly swallowed the rest of the donut and picked up his cup, draining the rest of his Irish coffee in one gulp. "I just came to tell you I’m moving on!"

"What?" Diego asked.

"Yeah, I’m heading back out on my own. Thought I’d give a little courtesy notice this time- my two hours notice, if you will."

"But- well," Diego failed to give an excuse as to why Klaus should stay and questioned himself as to why he cared. "Why are you going?"

Klaus shrugged and shuffled his feet. "I’m going a bit stir crazy, gotta get out, explore the world… Besides, Ben is sick of seeing you leave your dirty socks on the ground."

Ben was a topic Diego had noticed Klaus bringing up more and more often. It’d started during the peak of his fever and withdrawal. When Klaus was at his most delirious, he’d called out for Ben, swatting away Diego’s hands and cold washers and demanding to know where Ben was. The first time it’d happened, Diego had left the room and not come back for several hours. But as the two weeks dragged on, Klaus kept mentioning Ben in off-handed ways, so much so that at times Diego could be convinced he was in the room with them. He’d gotten used to it, it’d become somewhat of a comfort, the way Klaus would nail his impressions of Ben and what Ben would say, and at some point, Diego just went along with it.

"Yeah, well, Ben can pick them up himself if it’s bothering him so much."

Klaus paused for a moment and then grinned. "He says you should be grown enough to pick up after yourself."

Diego snorted, "That’s rich coming from you, Klaus."

Klaus held up his hands. "Hey! Don’t shoot the messenger!" He shuffled once more on the spot. "Anyway… I better be off, you know, things to see, people to do!"

"Yeah… alright, bro. Well, I’ll see you around, I guess."

"Man," Klaus laughed, "if I knew you were gonna miss me this much, I would have just moved in."

"Shut up," Diego muttered, dejectedly patting Klaus’ arm that somehow had managed to wrap its way around his chest as Klaus hugged him from behind.

"Get better soon, Di! See ya!" Klaus called over his shoulder, bouncing out of the room.

Diego didn’t watch him leave. He glared at his abandoned coffee cup and Klaus’ empty one that sat beside it. He was going to miss the little shit. His nose twitched before he let out a bellowing sneeze that shook his entire body and left him gripping the table. Then again, maybe he wouldn't.

Chapter Text

Diego’s back ached from how long he’d been hunched over his desk. The paperwork to the side of him had only seemed to grow in size since the beginning of his shift. He rolled his tight shoulders as he reached for the next file. It shouldn’t be like this. He should be out on the streets, fighting crime, doing what the other lazy-ass officers around here wouldn’t- bringing justice to those that deserved it. Two fucking years in this place, and Diego had nothing to prove for himself. He was still spending the majority of his time behind a desk pushing paper.

"Give me my stuff back!" A voice called out from across the bullpen.

Diego’s head lulled up, it’d been a busy night, arrests had been coming in hot and it wasn’t anything new for someone to put up somewhat of a struggle. Maybe if they were rambunctious enough Diego could go in and break it up, it’d give him something to do.

"Get your hands off of me!" The voice whined in an all too familiar voice.

Diego dropped his head back with a groan. He could not deal with this tonight.

Klaus’ tone changed once more to a pleading one, "C’mon, get me out of these handcuffs and we can work something out. We’re all adults here!" The sound of his handcuffs rattling echoed around the bullpen.

Diego knew he shouldn’t go over. It’d just stir up Klaus more and piss off the arresting officers. But Diego pushed back from his desk.

Patch was holding Klaus, one hand on his handcuffs and the other on his shoulder as she attempted to lead him toward the cells. "Hargreeves, don’t make this more difficult than it has to be."

Klaus had finally noticed his brother walking towards him. "Diego! Diego! You have to help me! Please!"

Klaus looked like shit. His clothes were tattered and filthy, his hair was unruly and his pupils were blown out to the size of saucers. The constant tinkle of metal on metal let Diego know that his hands were trembling behind his back. His chest heaved as if each breath were to be his last. His jaw twitched and his head jerked, almost like he was trying to stop it. "Diego," Klaus looked with wide, scared eyes, "please, please, please man. You gotta help me," he whimpered and drew into himself.

It wasn’t the first time Klaus had made a scene in a police station, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but the officer’s around them watched with unabashed interest nonetheless.

Diego stepped closer and levelled a sympathetic look with Patch. He dropped his voice, "This is just a misdemeanour isn’t it?"

"Possession of a controlled substance," Patch said.

Klaus began to struggle against the cuffs and Patch’s hand clenched tighter around his shoulder.

"Look," Diego said, his voice more frantic, "I’ll pay whatever fine it is, just let him go. I gotta take him home."

"Hernandez- Diego…" Patch’s voice was too soft, her next sentence too carefully strung together, "this isn’t his first time being charged by a long shot… he’s been caught too many times."

Diego’s stomach dropped. He shook his head.

Klaus fought harder against Patch, another officer leapt up to restrain him.

"Diego! Diego!" Klaus cried.

"No, he can’t-"

"Diego!" Klaus cried louder. He thrashed against the officer, his pleading eyes never leaving Diego.

"K-Klaus, I w-wuh-want to help…" Diego stopped and pictured the gut-wrenching words in his mind, "but there’s nothing I can do."

Klaus’ face fell and he struggled harder against the officer pinning him back. His legs splayed out as he kicked anything available, his shoulders withered around and he threw his head back, successfully colliding with the officer behind him with a loud smack. The officer slammed him to the desk next to Diego with brute force and Diego faltered back, watching ashamedly as Klaus didn’t even flinch, too used to being thrown around by those stronger than him his whole life.

"No no no no no, Diego! I can’t go to jail! Please!" Klaus’ voice was high-pitched and panicked, his eyes wide and frightened as they begged Diego. He squirmed under the strength of the officer’s body weight. "You don’t know what it’s like for me there! They are there!"

Diego couldn’t respond. His throat closed up and his trembling lips wouldn’t even begin to form the beginning of a sentence.

Klaus’ mood shifted. The terrified look in his eyes became one of a wild animal as he glared at Diego with every ounce of his being. "Screw you!" He spat with a growl. Two officers yanked him from the desk. They dragged him back, his legs still kicking as he ranted and raved at Diego. "Screw you!" He yelled, louder. "You know what they say about you pigs? They say it’s work for the weak ones! The ones who sit on their asses and do nothing! And that’s all you’ll ever be, Number Two!"

Diego stilled. His breath held. The station fell so quiet that the only sound was that of his heartbeat, which raced so fast he could be convinced he was going into cardiac arrest. Klaus was dragged around the corner, kicking and screaming. Diego stopped looking. He clenched his jaw, his fists curled by his sides and he bit back any semblance of a sentence he wanted to spit out. He stormed back to his desk, determined to ignore the eyes that fell on him. His hands shook in rage as he opened the file in front of him- putting on the facade of normalcy.

Meanwhile, the life he'd so delicately built for himself- every alias, every fake document, every lie- came crumbling down around him. The co-workers he’d successfully lied to were finally putting together the pieces of a puzzle that’d been sitting in front of them for years. Diego was no longer the rough and riled-up rookie, he wasn't the guy who would brood in the break room and skip out on drinks with the guys. He wasn't the outspoken officer who was determined to be put on the field. He wasn't the guy who was somehow cousins with the washed-up junkie from the Umbrella Academy. The past he so fiercely ran from had caught up to him and swallowed him whole. He was once more, nothing but a product of his father. Number Two. The Kraken. Diego Hargreeves.

Chapter Text

Around a year had passed since the last incident with Klaus.

Diego hadn’t seen him since.

He’d been permitted to remain on the force, by some strange miracle. Though he had to resubmit all his documentation, which meant obtaining his birth certificate, which in turn also meant calling the Academy for it. Diego had been on the verge of throwing up the entire time leading up to the call, he clenched the receiver in a white-knuckled grip, ready to firmly tell his father his demands. Mom answered the phone. What was supposed to be a stoic reunion, ended with a partially tearful goodbye from Diego’s end as Mom promised that his father would be on a business trip when he came to collect his birth certificate.

With shaking hands, he’d received his birth certificate from Mom. It looked too new for the age it should be, and when he turned it over in his hands, his- new- legal name stared up at him. Diego Hargreeves.

He’d been given the lecture of a lifetime from Sylvester and suspended from patrol for 12 months. But he’d also been given a solid pat on the back and a knowing look from Sylvester. It could have been a lot worse.

People talked. Of course, they did. People asked questions, behind his back, to his face, to the closer of his coworkers. They pried into a private life that Diego had no interest in remembering. He yelled at the first person to ask a question, and the second, and the third. Soon he learned to ignore them. After a while, the novelty wore off and it was only the occasional light prodding that Diego had to suffer through.

It was his second patrol since his suspension had lifted. Diego walked the streets with Beaman, their faces chilled and wind-nipped but their hands warmed by the coffee cups clenched tightly within them. Diego still drank black coffee.

The night had been long, they’d given up watching the crawling of their watches and instead measured time by the blocks they’d surveyed. The usual small talk had run out hours ago, now it was idle sparks of conversation here and there. Diego would kill for an armed robbery or hit and run right about now.

"You know," Beaman said, "you were my sister’s favourite Umbrella Academy kid."

Diego glanced at Beaman, who was sporting a teasing smirk. Almost everyone had given up on the superhero thing. "Really?" He asked in a flat tone.

"Yeah, she was super into the whole mysterious bad boy thing. I was more of a Luther man, myself."

Diego rolled his eyes. "'Course you were."

The static of the radio cut their conversation short, Diego couldn’t be more grateful. "Any available officers in the area, we have a 10-14 for narcotics exchange and solicitation on Park Avenue and 87th Street."

It wasn’t too far from their position. It was a bad side of town, but at this point, Diego wondered if there was even a good side anymore.

"Officers Hargreeves and Beaman reporting. We’re right by the area. We’ll check out the situation," Diego responded into his radio.

"Copy."

"Finally, some shit to do," Diego said to Beaman.

"Yeah. Fucking solicitation is never pretty, though. Let’s just hope they move it on."

Diego was inclined to agree.

They made their way towards the area and soon found the old alleyway where the suspected crime was going down. Diego and Beaman were the first on the scene. Beaman drained the rest of his coffee and dumped it in a trashcan and Diego followed suit. "Right, let’s check this out," Beaman said.

They rounded the corner and ducked into the alley. Two dark figures were tucked in the corner, their silhouettes illuminated by the flickering streetlight by the entrance.

Diego and Beaman hadn’t been noticed and crept closer, hoping to see some physical evidence of any lawbreaking before they made assumptions. One of the figures kneeled down onto the gravelled asphalt and the jingle of a belt sounded throughout the alley. Diego exchanged a look with Beaman and they both drew their flashlights, shining them onto the dark figures.

"Police, put your hands up-" Diego froze.

A disheveled man kneeled on the ground, his jeans dirty and torn, leaving his bruised knees exposed to the bare concrete. His coat was matted and stained, his hair mused and falling into his eyes with an unruly curl. A hand held out in front of his eyes to shield from the light had a singular word tattooed on the palm: 'HELLO'.

Diego’s stomach dropped. Bile raced up his throat and his next actions weren’t even consciously chosen. The man in front of Klaus was tall and beefy, and could almost be the size of Luther. His hands were still fumbling with his belt, but Diego didn’t give him a chance to do anything more as he raced up and swung at the guy. His fist connects with a solid crack against the guy’s jaw. The man stumbled before rearing back and throwing a clumsy fist at Diego, who ducked with ease and threw another swift hit to the side of his head.

The man yelled in anger and swung some more, each more uncoordinated than the last. Diego didn’t stop. He swung. He landed each and every hit. Solid sounds of fisting hitting skin echoed around. Blood coated Diego’s knuckles. The man had fallen to the ground at one point. Diego had jumped on top of him, straddling his body and landing punch after punch. His face was indistinguishable from the blood that splattered it, pooling on the ground beneath them.

Diego didn’t register he was yelling obscenities to the man until he realised he could barely hear the yells of Beaman over the sound of his own voice. "Hargreeves! Hargreeves! Get off him!"

Two strong hands began to pull him back and he struggled against them. "He’s down, Hargreeves!"

Diego looked down. The man had stopped fighting long ago, and his eyes had slid shut, the gurgling sound of his breaths the only indicator he was still alive. Beaman pulled him up and shoved him back from the man. Diego’s chest heaved, his bloodied fists clenched and he scanned the alley for any further threats.

Beaman didn’t say anything as he stood over the unconscious body, his hand rested on his taser as he eyed Diego with caution.

Diego locked eyes with Klaus, who was still kneeling in the corner. His green eyes were wide as he regarded the bloodied scene in front of him.

Diego swallowed the bile that remained in his throat. "K-Klaus?"

Klaus’ gaze turned to Diego, his eyes still round and frightened as he watched his brother.

"Klaus?" Diego repeated, his voice softer and calmer.

He approached with the caution one would use on a wild animal- though in this case, it was probably Diego who was regarded as dangerous. He crouched in front of Klaus, one hand reached out and gently placed on his shoulder.

"Diego?" Klaus asked. His voice trembled and sounded small, something never heard from Klaus before- shame.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m here."

Klaus launched himself into Diego’s arms. His skinny arms twisted around Diego’s neck as he pulled him closer to himself. Diego stilled momentarily before pulling his brother against him, one hand held firm at the base of his neck while the other wrapped around his torso in a tighter grip than they’d ever shared.

"S-so-sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry," Diego muttered into Klaus’ ear, a mantra of apologies for which he couldn’t figure out what he was apologising for. The blood that stained his knuckles? The comprising situation he had found Klaus in? The fact he’d done nothing to prevent this in the first place?

Klaus buried his neck deeper into Diego’s shoulder and Diego pulled his hand up from his neck to rest in his hair. "I’m sorry."

Diego held his brother close. Everything he did, and didn’t do, over the years had led to this moment. He wanted to be out, preventing these situations and serving justice for those that deserved it. But nothing he’d done in the force could have stopped this.

"Diego…" Beaman said. He stood behind them, still hovering over the unconscious body. "Fuck, Diego."

Diego pulled back but Klaus’ grip only tightened further on him. He stood up and with the help of Beaman, they tugged Klaus to his unsteady feet. Diego never released his hold on him the entire time.

Beaman looked between the body and the brothers. "We can… we can tell them it was self-defence. Turn off the body cams and tell 'em he attacked you."

Diego shook his head. "No." He wouldn’t help corrupt the system further. "No. I’m done."

He pulled off his vest and handed it to Beaman, who took it with wide eyes. He rifled in his pocket and pulled out his badge, throwing it to Beaman. "I can’t do this shit anymore. I’ll face whatever consequences I have to. But I can’t do this… See you around, man."

He picked up Klaus’ arm that had been dangling between them and threw it over his neck as he half-carried his brother out of the alley and towards his place. He shuffled down the street, his limping brother in tow and the police scanner tucked concealed in his back pocket.

The system had never been right. Diego had never fit in. He wasn’t cut out for rules and regulations. He was bought and raised for one thing. And perhaps it was the one thing their father had gotten right. The team created by Sir Reginald Hargreeves himself to bring justice to civilians that the police system would never be capable of. Diego wasn’t Officer Hernandez or Officer Hargreeves. He was Diego Hargreeves. The Kraken. Number Two.