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The first time Klaus died, he was four years old.
It happened at the end of a particularly difficult day. Number Four- as he had yet to be named, at that point- had been screaming and crying on and off since his individual training with Sir Hargreeves that morning. Whenever he managed to calm down, the only thing he seemed willing to talk about were the ghosts that he saw. He talked about their deaths, their horribly mangled bodies, the way they moaned and screamed and begged the barely understanding little boy to help them, save them, solve all their problems so they could pass on. The talk just attracted more ghosts, it seemed, and sent him spiraling back into tears.
Hargreeves had quickly decided the boy was a lost cause for the day and dismissed him from further activities until he could, quote, “Get himself together,” and handed him off to his nanny to hide him away in his room and keep him as quiet as possible.
It was six minutes to nine at night by the time Number Four's tantrum, as they were to be referred to as, properly ended. Reginald had long since scolded both the boy and the nanny, then blocked out the noise as he trained the other children. With the end of it he simply noted the time, wrote a quick note to have noise canceling panels placed in the walls of Four's room, and continued with his paperwork.
It was one minute to nine thirty when a sharp scream, an unfortunately not uncommon noise in the household, sounded from the bedroom wing. Reginald was set to ignore it when at exactly nine thirty, Miss Eloise Milne, Number One's nanny, came rushing into his office unannounced.
"What is the meaning of this?" Reginald demanded, staring down the notably frantic woman.
"Mr. Hargreeves, sir, please, you must come immediately. There's been- she's-"
He stood. "Why? What has happened? Compose yourself!"
She took a deep, shaking breath. "It's Number Four. He- it looks like he's dead."
Dead? Impossible , he thought. But he moved from behind his desk and pushed past Miss Milne. "Where is he?"
She hurried to follow. "Th-the bathroom. I-I was taking Number One there but the door was closed. I knocked and there was no answer, a-and it was unlocked, so I opened it a-and- and-"
"Enough! Get Dr. Pogo immediately and then return to Number One."
"Y-yes sir!"
Her heels clacked behind him as she scurried away to find the chimpanzee.
Reginald quickly made his way to the children's hall. Bedroom doors were cracked open with the frightened children and worried nannies peering out. The door to the bathroom at the end of the hall remained open, with only Number Four's nanny, Miss Rebecca Weir, in sight, kneeling on the floor.
"Back to your rooms!" Reginald ordered with a wave of his cane as he passed. "Back to bed! Do not let the children leave their rooms until further notice!"
The children were swiftly herded into their rooms, doors shut behind them, leaving only Number One standing dumbly at the end of the hall, a finger stuck in his mouth. He was passed by without acknowledgement.
Reginald stepped into the bathroom and quickly surveyed the scene in front of him.
Water soaked the floor as well as Miss Weir's clothes. She had been staring at the bathtub but turned her reddened face to stare at him with wide, terrified eyes.
"I'm sorry. I-I… I'm sorry."
Reginald took a single step forward, leaning over slightly to see into the tub itself.
Number Four laid in the tub, completely submerged in the water. He wasn't moving at all, save for his floating hair. His lips and fingertips had turned blue from a lack of oxygen.
Miss Weir was continuing to apologize, stumbling and stuttering over each barely comprehensible word like a child. The cane connected with her face, silencing her.
"What on Earth have you done!?" Reginald shouted, not bothering to consider his volume.
"I'm sorry!" Guilty tears had begun to well up in her eyes.
"Cease your apologies! Explain!"
"I-" she froze, then slowly turned back to stare at the dead boy.
Heels clacked down the hallway, stopping briefly near the bathroom then continuing back until a door clicked shut. Dr. Pogo entered the bathroom a second later.
"My God," he exclaimed gravely.
"Dr. Pogo." He didn't look away from the nanny. "Take Number Four to the infirmary and attempt to administer resuscitation of any kind."
"Sir, with all due respect, I do not thi-"
Reginald slammed his cane on the ground, causing Miss Weir to jump and pulling all attention to him. "Now, Dr. Pogo! Do not question me. I will handle Miss Weir."
Pogo didn't say another word. He simply stepped around the two humans, scooped up the body of Number Four with a certain tenderness, and exited.
"Miss Weir!"
The tears finally began to slip down her face. "I couldn't take it anymore!" she shrieked. She raked her hands through her already unfortunately disheveled hair. "All he does is scream and cry and talk to nothing, and he says the most awful things! Awful, terrible things. No child should know about things like that! No- no one should know things like that!"
She paused suddenly, her hands gripping her hair, her breathing ragged. "He told me my mother hated me," she hissed. "My mother died two weeks ago."
Of course. He had noticed Miss Weir had appeared more stressed than on average and he had given her a single day off almost precisely two weeks ago. Perhaps he should have hired a new nanny when she had asked for the day off.
"I've heard enough. Stand." Miss Weir didn't move. He slammed his cane again. "Stand!"
She practically leapt to her feet, and Reginald grabbed her arm and held onto it with an iron grip as he pulled her down the hallway. He dragged her to the first floor entryway and locked her in the coat closet. It would have to do for now, as the basement cell was already occupied. She did not protest.
He marched to his laboratory, otherwise referred to as the infirmary. Dr. Pogo had Number Four laid out on the single gurney and hooked him up to the heart rate monitor and the brainwave monitor of Reginald's own design. They were both flatlining, the heart rate monitor spiking only when Pogo used the defibrillator.
Reginald waited one minute, then held up a hand. "That's enough, Dr. Pogo. It would appear Number Four is deceased." He let out an irritated sigh. "Contact the police. We will have Miss Weir arrested and charged."
He did not notice the look Pogo gave him as he returned the defibrillator paddles to their rightful spot. "Yes, sir. Right aw-"
Both monitors began shrieking. Four's entire body convulsed then fell back to the gurney as the monitors evened out, though the heart rate monitor still beeped at a fast pace. The boy let out a pained, terrified noise that could barely be called a scream which was soon cut off by his own choking, water and vomit spitting out of his mouth.
"Ah!" Pogo yelped and immediately moved to sit the boy up, patting his back hard to aid in removing the water from his lungs. After a solid few moments of coughing and spluttering the boy took in a ragged, difficult breath. Pogo pressed a breathing mask to his face, which he struggled against with frightened whimpers.
As the chimpanzee attempted to calm the boy, Reginald hurried over the monitors to observe, to see what the hell had just happened. The heart rate monitor read as it normally should with consideration for how panicked the child was causing a spike in adrenaline. The brainwave monitor also read as completely normal, as if he had never been dead at all.
"Strange," he muttered. "Perhaps a development in his powers? Perhaps some tests are in order."
"Sir Hargreeves."
"Hm?" He raised his eyebrows and looked at Pogo and Number Four. The boy was calming down, having gone from fighting against the oxygen mask and the chimpanzee to simply shaking like a leaf and breathing heavily, Pogo's arm gripped tightly by his tiny, pruned and still blue fingers.
"I do not mean to intrude, however I do not believe any tests would be helpful."
Reginald sized Four up for a moment. There was no effective way to determine what had caused this sudden revival, whether it was a previously unknown facet of his abilities or just a stroke of insanely good luck, other than to kill the boy again. But that was far too risky to attempt, he supposed. He had already almost lost the child once, there was no logical need to attempt it again, even if it could lead to potentially useful discoveries.
"Right enough, Dr. Pogo," he announced. "Check the boy for any lasting damage and treat him as needed. Leave him in Number Two's nanny's care afterward. We must speed along the construction of the android, I do not want to risk these situations any longer."
"Of course, sir."
Reginald turned to leave. "Oh, and make an order to have security cameras installed in all rooms and hallways in the house, leading to a monitor in my office and a dedicated monitor room. I'll leave which room to repurpose for this to your discretion. I believe closer observation of the children is needed."
He turned on his heel to head back to his study, preparing to record the events of the night in as great a detail as possible.