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thewatermelloncat · 4 years ago

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Summary: A Five sickfic I wrote inspired by @too-many-umbrellas post here and the notes from it, because people have amazing ideas and this story barely scratches the surface.

Author’s Note: I might do a whole story with all the siblings causing chaos like in the original post eventually.

I also have a bonus story which I will post up later on tomorrow that I’ll link onto this one. (Edit: Linked up top)

Warnings: Swearing

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The weather report said it would be sunny – it lied. Thunder crashes outside as Five staggers back into the living room, the booming sound reflecting his frustration. He looks exhausted as he makes his way back to the couch where he had been seated a minute earlier.

“It’s really kicking your arse isn’t it?” Luther observes.

Five nods minutely, closing his eyes and sniffling miserably into his sleeve.

Taking pity on him Luther tosses him the box of tissues from the coffee table. Surprisingly Five manages to catch it before taking a few and blowing his nose as he sits back onto the couch.

“How far did you go this time?” Klaus asks from up on one of the barstools.

“Upstairs and round the corner a bit” Five tells him, sounding weak and raspy.

“Why didn’t you just jump back?”

“Gee, Klaus. I wish I thought of that” Five’s voice drips in sarcasm before he covers a few hollow coughs behind his fist, wincing slightly afterward.

“How’s your throat?” Five’s pained expression doesn’t pass Luther by.

His seemingly younger brother only shakes his head, both not answering and answering his question at the same time.

“How many times has it been today that you poofed off somewhere?” Klaus chuckles slightly as he spins on the chair, his feet lazily dragging behind him in the air.

“Lost count.”

“Well there was when you got sent to the kitchen. Oh-ho and the one where you teleported into Diego’s room just as he was about to leave for work. That was so funny, scared the living daylights outta him” – Klaus laughs, ticking them off on his fingers before Five cuts him off.

“Klaus, stop… It-it really doesn’t matter” Five sighs pulling the blanket from on the couch around his shoulders and tucking his legs up to his chest, resting his head on his knees. He knew his brother was only having fun but it wasn’t helping his headache any.

Klaus pauses his listing while his brother speaks but decides to scrap his list entirely seeing the pointed look Luther gives him. Pursing his lips, he swings his legs forward propelling himself off the chair then makes his way to sit next to Five.

“This has really got you down hasn’t it, old man?” Klaus teases him.

“I’m fine” Five’s voice already muted and now muffled by his knees, does him no favours in proving his point.

“No, wrong letter” Klaus says, wrapping an arm over his brother and pulling him into his side. “It’s said ‘Five’ not ‘fine.’”

Five immediately pulls out of Klaus’ grip, fixing him with a look which would have been a lot more threatening if he didn’t look like he was half asleep.

“Come on!” Klaus whines. “That was clever.”

Five only just has time to roll his eyes before his turns away into his elbow, “Kihh'tschh!!!” and in a flash of blue he’s gone.

Klaus blinks in bewilderment at the now lonely blanket in a heap on the couch before he immediately turns to Luther. “Bet he went” – his voice is cut off by Five’s unimpressed tone sounding from behind the wall near the doorway.

“Klaus if you’re placing bets, I swear” – Five’s raised voice cuts off, leaving them in silence for a few seconds. “Huh’Tschh!”

Suddenly there is a crackle of energy and a faint blue spark that casts rays of light on the doorframe.

“Fuck!” Five’s curse sounds muffled through the floor boards, having been teleported further away up to the third floor.

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The first few times Five had spontaneously teleported he’d come back looking annoyed, now as he re-enters the living room, he seems completely over it. If anything, he’s glad that neither of his siblings make a joke out of it. Sure, he might find it funny later but not now, exhausted from the long trek down various flights of stairs.

“Come here” Luther interrupts Five’s beeline for the couch, gesturing for him to come over to him.

Five bites back a huff of frustration but obliges, only because he can’t be bothered arguing. Slowly he comes to stand in front of Luther who reaches out a hand to place of his forehead.

None of them need anymore clarification to know that Luther’s hum of disapproval means that Five’s fever is going up. “You dizzy at all?” it wouldn’t surprise Luther if he was with all the teleporting he is doing.

Five shakes his head, one of the few things he is grateful for. “Just tired” he sighs as he sinks back into the couch next to Klaus, who wraps the blanket back over his shoulders.

“You hungry?” Luther asks. “Think we’ve still got leftovers in the fridge.”

Five shakes his head.

“Get some sleep then, yeah?”

Five’s hum of content as he goes to snuggle back into the couch quickly turns into a groan of frustration as he pushes himself back up, rubbing his hand against his nose. “Please God, no” he begs, closing his eyes tightly trying to will the itch away. He just got back for fuck’s sake. But there’s nothing he can do and his chest inhales involuntarily. “Ktt'schh!!” and in a poof of blue sparks he’s gone again.

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As the last of the blue sparks fade into nothing, the steady sound of footsteps echo from around the corner.

“Is Five here? I swear I just heard him” Allison says as she stops in the doorway to the room.

“Sneezed and poofed away” Klaus tells her.

“Where did he go?”

“Dunno” Klaus admits quietly, seeming confused that they haven’t heard Five cursing from somewhere by now.

Allison seems confused as well as she looks around the edge of the upper floors from the base of the staircase, “Five?”

At the lack of response to his sister’s calling, Luther pushes himself out of his chair and walks forward to join her. “Five!” his deeper voice carries further, echoing around the foyer.

“He can’t have gone far, can he?” Klaus asks worriedly, coming to join them.

“Doubt it” Luther shakes his head, “it is been draining him.”

“Do you think he could have passed out?” Allison’s question is answered nonverbally as they all share worried looks before splitting off in different directions.

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The raindrops Five blinks out of his eyes may as well be tears from the amount of resentment he currently feels. Except crying is a waste of time, and it would be pointless to cry over an ability he can’t change. So instead he draws in a deep breath beginning to trudge through the puddles on the footpath, already drenched by the rain.

He’d tried to jump back when he first landed but only succeed in turning the air around him blue, too weak to teleport again. He’d given up after his third try and surrendered to the cold walk home.

There aren’t many people around to judge why a boy is wondering around the street without an umbrella, only a few who run along sheltered by their coats above their heads, ducking under overhangs. He makes it to the next street down before he draws in a breath and ducks into his elbow, “hah’kshhhuu!”

He wishes that it could have teleported him back to the academy, but it only manages to fizzle out blue sparks like a battery dying.

His teeth chatter as he crosses his arms with a shiver, and he forces himself to think of something positive. At least he knows where he is and he’s not too far from the Academy. Still, he wishes his uniform had a hood or he had teleported with the blanket that had been wrapped around him, either way he would have had something to shelter him from the rain.

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Diego’s brow knits in confusion as he walks through the foyer seeing no one around. He’d left them all in the lounge before he left for work, and he’d thought they’d still be there. At least Five who was supposed to spend the day crashed on the couch.

Seeing nothing but a blanket he shrugs before heading for the stairs up to his room. Suddenly he turns around at the sound of hurried footsteps behind him, running up the stairs from the kitchen.

“What’s wrong?” he asks Allison as she looks around frantically.

“We lost Five?” she says, barely sparing him a glance as she moves back into the lounge to have another look around.

“What do you mean you lost him?”

“He sneezed and disappeared!” Klaus calls out from the railing of the second level.

“Have you tried his room?”

“He’s not there!” Luther’s voice echoes from a place where Diego can’t see him before he steps into view behind the railing on the third floor. “I hate to jump to conclusions, but you don’t think he” – he doesn’t need to finish his sentence to get his point across.

A few seconds of silence fall over the siblings as they contemplate whether accidental time travel is even on the cards for him.

Allison is the first person to shake her head. “I doubt it, he wouldn’t have enough energy” she speaks assuredly, but part of her doesn’t know whether it’s denial.

“Is there anywhere you haven’t checked?” Diego asks immediately, not feeling that it’s necessary to dwell on it.

Klaus’ sarcastic comment about how there are over 60 rooms to look around in dies in his throat at the sound of the front door handle turning.

“Oh my God, Five!” Allison all but squeaks as she rushes forward to her brother shutting the door behind him, drenched with rain.

As soon as she’s next to him her hands are all over him, brushing his hair out of his face, checking for fever on his cheeks, then pulling off his soaked blazer after noticing how violently he shivers.

“Where’d you go?” she asks as Klaus steps forward with the blanket in his hands, having raced down the stairs and into the lounge.

“Half a block down the street” Five stutters through shivers before his breath hitches and he raises a hand to his mouth in preparation for a sneeze.

Klaus, having almost touched the blanket to his brother’s shoulders, yelps and jumps back using the blanket as a shield, not wanting to touch him and be hurtled through time and space.

Allison having a completely different reaction, quickly reaches forward placing a hand on his shoulder, hoping that he won’t have the strength to teleport the both of them.

“Heh’tshh!” Five pivots slightly away from her and she feels static run up her arm.

Shaking it out she steps back from Five as he turns back to them.

“I can’t – uhm” he swallows seeming distracted with his eyes unfocused. “I can’t – Ah’Tchhhh - teleport, anymore” he finishes sniffling into his elbow.

Deeming that it is safe to come near him again, Klaus gives him the blanket and the tips of his cold, red fingers turn white as he grips onto it like a lifeline.

“Shower, go” Allison instructs, her voice demanding yet compassionate.

Five nods, and Allison keeps her eyes on him as he walks through the group of his siblings and up the stairs. “Not too hot, all right?”

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Five doesn’t mean to announce his presence back in the lounge by coughing loudly into his elbow, that’s what Klaus would do for attention, but completely against his own character. Either way it couldn’t be helped.

He tries his best to ignore his siblings’ looks of sympathy, particularly Luther’s, as he makes his way to the couch dressed in a pair of Allison’s trackpants and a hoodie. It’s weird to see a guy that big with a face that looks like a kicked puppy. Then again, it’s weird for anyone to see Five out of his standard uniform, let alone with his hands bunched up in the sleeves.

Fighting back the want to shiver, Five sinks into the couch and makes to lie down before Allison stops him.

“Hold up Five” she says, stepping closer to him with a thermometer in hand.

“Do I really have to?” he mumbles, not really seeing the point. He’s had a fever all day and doubts that it would have gone anywhere.

“I just want to check.”

“I just want to sleep.”

“And you can after this” Allison promises him.

“I’m fine” Five groans. “I’m just tired.”

“That would be a lot more convincing if you could speak clearer” Diego jabs at him over the stuffy quality of his voice.

“You’re one to talk” Five bites back, immediately realising his mistake even before Diego falls into silence. That was too mean, even for his standards. “I’m sorry Diego. I-I don’t mean that” he sniffles congestedly into his sleeve, adjusting his position on the couch out of awkwardness. “Just feel horrible.”

“You’re all right, bud” Diego murmurs affectionately, shaking off the last of his hurt expression.

Allison breaks the last of the tension waving the thermometer in the air. “I’m about to start making aeroplane noises.”

“You will not” Five staggers out a response, taking the thermometer out of her hand before she has a chance to shove it in his mouth for him.

As Five goes to slip the thermometer under his tongue Klaus takes his chance at making an aeroplane noise, but quickly cuts off when Five glares at him. Though he can only look so threatening with a pale face, pink nose and cheeks, and a stick of glass protruding from his lips. Still Klaus feels sorry for him and picks up the blanket from the couch and wraps it around him as a peace offering.

His peace offering seems to be overly effective as Five leans into him, resting his head on his shoulder. After taking a second to get over the shock of Five wanting physical contact, Klaus wraps his arm that had slightly flailed in the air around his brother’s shoulders.

Before anyone can make a comment about Five and Klaus showing affection to each other, the front door opens and footsteps head towards the lounge.

Even before they can see her, they hear Vanya’s voice starting to ramble something about one of her violin students, and stopping at the store. When she comes into view, she greets them and they respond in various ways. Klaus feeling Five move underneath his arm, raising a tired hand in a small wave.

“How��re you feeling, Five?” she asks him, her expression falling into sympathy that could rival Luther.

The question doesn’t really need to be answered given how Five has surrendered to physical contact in order to remain upright. He can’t really answer her either with a thermometer in his mouth. So, he tiredly blinks at her, figuring that she will understand.

“We’re not doing too great” Luther answers for him anyway.

“Had a little adventure out in the rain, didn’t we?” Klaus adds squeezing Five closer into his side, making him shift uncomfortably. Whether it was because of the increased contact or the fact that his siblings are speaking about him as if he is a child, Klaus doesn’t have the brains to question it.

“Ah-ha, the glitching” Vanya chuckles lightly as she turns around to place her violin case on the bar.

Diego hops up from his chair and goes over to help her unload the snacks and things that she got from the store, explaining the events in more detail.

At the same time Allison moves back in front of Five to collect the thermometer from him.

After handing it over to her Five releases a few coughs that he had been holding back into his elbow, leaning away from Klaus. In the midst of that activity he misses Allison reading out the verdict and he’s not interested enough to get her to repeat it. Figuring it can’t be too bad or she would have placed her hand back to his forehead or gone back to study the measurement again.

“You can go to sleep now Five” Allison withholds her promise, smiling sadly down at him.

He sighs deeply as he shifts against Klaus who moves so his brother can rest his head on his lap. As they get settled, Allison turns and walks toward the bar to wash the thermometer in the sink. With her back to them she hears Five sniffle slightly before sneezing softly causing Klaus to yelp dramatically.

“’m not going anywhere” she hears Five mumble to him tiredly.

“The blue flash says different!” he accuses.

“We’ll he didn’t go anywhere, did he?” Luther points out so Five doesn’t have to.

“If even if he could go somewhere, there’s no way he could take you with him” Allison tells Klaus as she reaches the sink and turns on the tap.

Her reasoning doesn’t seem to settle Klaus and she looks up from the running water to catch Vanya’s eye, shaking her head and rolling her eyes playfully.

Vanya returns the look, switching up the rolling eyes for a smile before she turns back to the group. “Five, I got some NyQuil from the store if you want any.”

“I don’t think we’ll need it” Klaus says, his voice much quieter than a few seconds ago. Adjusting the blanket over the shoulders of the boy who rests his head on his legs, already asleep.

#tua #The Umbrella Academy #umbrella academy fanfiction #five hargreeves #the boy #sickfic #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #sneeze

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toosicktoocare · 4 years ago

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In honor of The Umbrella Academy S2 coming out in one week, here’s a fic I wrote a hot minute ago on AO3 with sick Klaus and pissed off Ben.

This feeling isn’t new to Klaus; in fact, it’s painfully familiar. His body is a heavy, throbbing, lump of ice yet his head is a ball of fire crackling and floating above his pillow. Every inch of his skin hurts, and his muscles are pulsing in time with a too rapid heartbeat. He’s shaking, teeth clenched together to keep from chattering freely, but the blanket he’s got gripped up to his chin is doing nothing to ward of the chill that’s clinging mercilessly to his bones.

Yes, for Klaus, this feeling is painfully familiar. It’s a feeling that follows its stark contrast of airy nothingness, light bliss. This, now, this is withdrawal.

“It’s not withdrawal, Klaus.”

“Did I say that out loud?” Klaus asks, voice rubbed raw from a fitful night filled with hollow coughs.

“You’ve been mumbling for a while now.”

Ben’s voice, Klaus thinks with a frown, is laced with a familiar coat of concern—one that’s reserved just for him and his various fuck ups throughout his shitshow of a life. He groans, and the deep growl agitates his throat. He pushes himself up on one elbow and coughs harshly into his fist, his lungs rattling with each grating cough.

He catches his breath after a few, painful moments that feel like an eternity, and he pries his eyes open. Ben’s at his side, looking down at him with narrow, studying eyes and a furrowed forehead. His arms are crossed, but his fingers are twitching slightly, as if fighting off a need to reach out to Klaus.

Behind Ben, there’s a crowd of the dead—a woman with a noose hanging around her neck, a man in a hospital gown with an IV sticking out of his arm, a crew of three young gentleman with familiar helmets, faces covered in dirt and blood, dog tags…

Klaus shakes his head with a few, weak coughs and brings his focus back to Ben. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop on my dream-filled mutterings, dear brother,” Klaus says, a half-smile pulling across tired lips as he falls back against his pillow. “Can’t a man get some privacy?”

Rolling his eyes, Ben takes a seat on the edge of Klaus’s bed, and Klaus shivers a little harder at the chill that follows the deceased.

“You’re sick, Klaus. You should go get someone.”

“Or,” Klaus draws out, voice cracking, “I could stay here with my favorite, dead brother.”

“I’m not going to be the only dead sibling if you stay up here by yourself.”

There’s a flick of a thought that crosses Klaus’s mind—a thought that was a constant in his drug-riddled mind. Death. It’s something he desired, an out from his ��ability,” as his father would call it.

“Klaus, get the hell up. Everyone’s downstairs.”

Ben’s voice cuts through his dark thoughts, and Klaus blinks up sheepishly as his brother. “Fine, fine, Benny Boy. I’m going.”

Getting out of bed is a new level of difficult. This, he thinks, definitely feels like withdrawal, but he’s clean—he’s been clean for two months, yet in those fifty-six days, the thought of a relapse, of consuming even the smallest of pills that will take the dead away, has been prominent around the headache in his mind. But he’s held off, not wishing to remain a disappointment.

Standing feels like he’s balancing on a surfboard that’s fighting against crashing waves. Everything’s spinning, and in seconds, he’s dripping in sweat despite his clacking teeth. “Shit,” he groans, bringing one hand to his head. “This, dear brother, fucking sucks.” A cough follows his words, and he stumbles toward the door. The floor’s rocking underneath his socks, and he has to stop and lean heavily against the doorframe to keep himself from toppling over.

“Klaus…”

Ben’s hands are hovering just inches from Klaus’s arms, and Klaus studies the pale hands for a moment before bringing his eyes to Ben’s.

“I’m good—just need a minute. Everything’s,” he stops, twirling his finger weakly in a circular motion, “all spinny.”

Ben remains at his side when he stumbles into Luther’s room to snag and oversized gray cardigan that swallows his slender frame, and his dead brother stays dangerously close when he climbs down the never-ending stairs with a grip on the bannister that’s tight enough to have his knuckles fading to a frightening white. He has to stop twice to sit and cough harshly until dark spots dance across his vision, but he makes it down without killing himself.

He can hear his siblings in a heated discussion in the living room, and when he enters, he goes unnoticed, even as he stumbles across the room to an unoccupied loveseat. He’s out of breath when he flops onto the cushion, and he pulls the cardigan over his mouth to mask the sharp, burning coughs that tremble out from his lungs.

“Is that my sweater?” Luther asks.

“Fuck off, Luther.”

Klaus raises one brow toward Ben, who’s leaning against the arm rest beside him, before he shrugs. “It’s warm.”

“It’s mine, and you just coughed all over it.” Luther squints toward Klaus, and Klaus shrinks further into the couch as if hoping the couch would open up and eat him—he would take anything to get away from that scrutinizing gaze he’s so accustomed to.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Are you sick, Klaus?”

Vanya’s voice is gentle, concerned, and Klaus aches to go toward that care, but Luther interjects before Klaus can explain himself.

“No, he’s just coming off drugs like usual. Diego, go check his room.”

“You fucking do it,” Diego snaps, glaring at Luther. “I don’t answer to you.”

“Diego,” Allison warns, doing her best to keep the peace between the two who are always at war with one another. “Klaus,” she continues, pulling her attention toward her other brother. “Did you take something?”

“No,” Klaus mutters around a cough. “I’m clean.”

“It’s okay if you did,” Allison starts, going a different route. “You can tell us—we just want to help.”

“Oh, wow,” Diego drawls out. “Allison the fucking saint. That’s new.”

“Watch it, Diego.”

Luther’s growl reverberates uncomfortably in Klaus’s head, and he whimpers quietly, pulling the cardigan over his head as his siblings begin to bicker. In a way, their loud voices, all fighting to be the loudest, to be heard, are worse than the ghosts who smother him with screaming and crying. Maybe because he can’t focus his mind to shut his siblings out—because they aren’t dead. They’re alive, and they are so fucking loud.

His head is throbbing. He can’t stop shaking, and he’s exhausted despite only waking a few minutes before. “Ben,” he whispers, coughing harshly into the arm rest of the couch while he moves both hands over his ears to block out the arguing. “Can you make them stop?”

He knows it’s an empty request because Ben can’t—his brother can only speak to him. But, below him, the couch begins to vibrate, and before he can remove the cardigan from his face to look, there’s a bellowing shout from his side.

“Shut the fuck up! Klaus is sick!”

The sounds of glass breaking and pictures falling mix in with Ben’s booming voice, and after, an uncomfortable silence covers the room. Slowly, Klaus moves the cardigan to see Ben sitting on the couch beside him and looking at the floor with wide, surprised eyes.

“Sh-shit, Ben,” Klaus mutters, but before he can reach out toward Ben, Five is popping in front of him, manifesting from the kitchen to the living room in the mere blink of an eye.

His other siblings are crowding behind Five, but Five only stares at the empty space where he assumes Ben is sitting before he pushes Klaus’s sweaty bangs back and slides his palm across Klaus’s forehead.

Five’s hand is cool, and Klaus leans into it, his eyes fluttering shut at the uncharacteristically gentle touch.

“Was that Ben?”

“How do we know this isn’t just withdrawal?”

“Five?”

“It’s not withdrawal,” Five says, moving his gaze back to the empty space on the couch where Ben’s seated, watching him. “It’s probably the flu—I don’t think he would have a fever this high with just a cold.”

“Fucking finally.”

“How do you feel, Klaus?”

Klaus has to blink a few times to ward off the graying darkness that’s creeping at the edge of his vision. He moves a slow gaze toward Vanya. “Dear sister, I feel like utter shit.” His tone is lackluster, missing its usual easy flare. He turns to cough into the cardigan while his siblings look to Five.

“Luther, carry him back upstairs. He probably won’t make the walk back up. Diego, check the master bathroom for medicine. Vanya and Allison, he’ll need to eat, but only something light unless you want to clean up his vomit. And, Ben,” Five shifts his gaze back to the couch, “stay with him.”

“Like I have a choice.”

Klaus has just enough energy to note the lack of sarcastic heat in Ben’s reply before he gives in to the darkness pulling at him with strong, large hands.

*****

“Klaus? Klaus, are you awake?”

Klaus feels as if he’s lying in a pool of ice yet he’s facing the sun that’s hovering right over him. He aches horribly, and going back to sleep is ideal, but he cracks his eyes open. “How’d you do it?”

Frowning, Ben cocks his head to the side. “What?”

“The poltergeist thing,” Klaus elaborates around a few coughs.

“I… I don’t know. I was just—I was pissed and worried.”

“Aww,” Klaus croaks out. “You did all that just for little old me?”

“Shut up, Klaus.”

#tua #The Umbrella Academy #sickfic #whump #whumpfic #my writing #my tua writing #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #five hargreeves #allison hargreeves #vanya hargreeves

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

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What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader

Chapter 5- Valhalla

Summary: The gala was fun and all, a mild exception being when you almost got choked out by one of the Swedes. For the time being, you and Diego get a surprise visit by the rest of the Hargreeves.

If you want tagged just hit me up. Tagged: @white-wolf-buckaroo @fandomoverlord221 @la-vie-en-amour1 @2cuteforyourlies @thatfandombitcch

“You know, I’m starting to get the feeling Dads avoiding us.” Five says frustrated, looking on as the cars continue to hastily leave the ruined party.

“Yeah, no shit.” You mumble back at him, fixing your dress, as you happen to notice how it now has a nice clean rip where the shoulder seam should be together. In the face of danger all accessories are temporarily forgotten, oh well, you didn’t even like the dress anyways, to constricting.

“Hate to be the boring one, guys, but, uh, it’s time to get the hell out of here.” Says Lila as she walks into view from behind some bushes and a brick wall, continuing to walk past all of you until she reaches the pavement, stopping to turn around and usher you three to follow.

“When you say “we,” who exactly are you referring to?” Challenges Five.

“Not a lot of ambiguity in that sentence.” Replies Lila, shrugging him off.

“Listen, I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but whatever it is, I’d advise you return posthaste.” Five says, using that pushy tone of his again, done with Lila’s falsities.

“She’s right Five we gotta get outta here.” Mutters Diego, looking around slightly nervously.

“I just saved your life, you kinder-shit. If I hadn’t stepped in, all that would be left of you is a blazer and some bloody socks.” She snaps back.

“That’s the problem. You’re too good. You ask too many questions. You know too much. And you fight like you know what you’re doing.” Five says making a compelling point. You eye her up suspiciously.

“He’s not wrong.” You tell her, equally as conflicted as to who or what she truly is.

“So I know how to handle myself. And that makes me the bad guy?” She questions calmly like what we’re saying is absolutely ridiculous.

“Whoever you are, you’re in my way. If I see you again, I will kill you.” States Five seriously, with restrained anger flashing in his eyes as he gives her a last dirty look before walking away back to Elliot’s house.

Looking to you and Diego in disbelief, she turns to go walking a couple of feet before turning back to the both of you. “Guys come on we have to go.” She urges.

“I was getting my ass handed to me back there. You helped Five, not me.” He questions walking in closer to here accusingly.

“Because he’s a kid and you’re a man. Bloody act like one for god sakes, Y/N didn’t appear to need any help. If I remember correctly.” She says in defense, trying to get her point across without giving herself away.

Nodding Diego walks past her. You look up at her pleading eyes and look down for a second thinking of what to do. Making up your mind, you purse your lips together, walking past her as well.

“Y/N, really?” She pleads, knowing she’s losing the battle. You turn to her.

“I liked you Lila, you were fun to hang around with for awhile, I’ll admit. But we know nothing about you, and shits gotten weirder then ever. And right now I can sense that your lying to us, I wouldn’t even have to look at you to know that, I can practically smell it.” You explain to her without much remorse, you knew something was up after all, and nothing is getting in the way of your family’s safety. If she happens to be with the wrong people, that is.

You stare at her for a second more before turning around and following Diego. Tired of all the crazy shit you’d endured at the party.

“Oh, come on. Y/N? Diego? Really? You’re just gonna walk away?” She yells, as Diego starts to make a beeline for the woods. You ignore her calls as you jump over the thigh high stone wall and into the woods you go.

——

The next morning you and Diego get a surprise visit from Luther, someone whom you haven’t seen in a year and a half. After greetings are said, he walks in hungry as ever. So now here you are in Elliot’s kitchen as Luther makes himself a ridiculously large amount of scrambled eggs. You, Diego, Five, and Luther in the midst of a discussion on everything that’s happened up until now.

Smelling the delicious scent of scrambled eggs you sit on the kitchen table with your boots on the chair, looking between Diego and Luther who’s currently cooking said eggs at the moment. Watching as Diego paces back and forth heated about the ass kicking you, Five, and himself received last night.

“No, no, no, I don’t understand. They keep following me and Y/N. Those Dutch fuckers.” Diego points out, attempting to explain his thoughts to Five.

Wait, who?” Wonders Luther, trying to keep up with what’s going on.

“Some Swedish sociopaths.” You answer bluntly.

“Precisely Y/N, atleast one of you is paying attention.” Turning to Diego he continues, “They’re hired guns paid to eradicate us before we do anymore damage to the timeline.”

“Yeah, but why now? I mean I’m fine for three months until you showed up.” Diego growls, snapping his fingers angrily at Five’s unflinching form.

“Yeah, I was here for a year and no one messed with me.” Luther adds, focusing on the eggs he’s still cooking.

Pointing to Five you reply, “Luther’s got a point. I was here for almost two years and I haven’t been randomly hunted down by anyone. Then you show up and I get put in a choke-hold.” You say raising an eyebrow at him.

“Even if it was my fault, which it isn’t, we only have six days before the end of the world, and the closest anyone’s gotten to Dad was that driveway at the consulate.” Comments Five, glancing between the three of you.

Quietly Luther speaks up, “Well that’s not exactly true.” He says with a sigh, looking at the wall before turning to your guys’ confused faces.

“What do you mean?” Asks Five, stepping in closer.

“You didn’t?” He looks away from your prying gaze, he did.

“I saw him.” Luther says, looking nervously at you three, like a child getting caught with a frog in his pocket. He then proceeded to go on a long and boring story about how he traveled back to the Umbrella Academy, talked with Sir Reginald Hargreeves himself, only to get shot down and sternly told to leave. Of course that’s what was going to happen, idiot, he doesn’t even know who you are.

Sitting to Luther’s right and Diego to his left with Five in a chair to your back left. You slouch leaning your arms against the table, propping your head up with your right arm, as you lean against the wall. Listening to the two converse about his misfortunes.

“That’s pathetic.” Diego tells Luther bluntly.

“Yeah, well at least he didn’t shank my ass.” He mumbles, mouth full of scrambled eggs.

“No, bro, he shanked your heart.” Diego says in the most sincere voice you’ve heard in awhile.

Snorting with amusement from your side of the table, you add bluntly, “Well it wouldn’t be the first time.” Gaining a chuckle from Diego and an eye roll from Five.

“Mhm, hilarious.” Luther replies sarcastically, continuing to scarf down more eggs.

Walking into the doorway to the kitchen, Elliot stops, looking confused at Luther. “Is that my bathrobe?” Staring up at him like a deer in the headlights he says innocently, “No”

“Look, who cares what he shanked? He knows something about time travel.” Interrupts Five, talking to the three of you.

“Uh, wait, why don’t we just do your thing and, uh, time travel us out?” Wonders Elliot.

Standing up visibly frustrated, not really caring enough to explain himself anymore, Five asks the three of you sitting down. “Anyone care to explain?”

Luther looks up at Elliot ready to clarify why, “First time he tried, he got lost in the apocalypse.” Diego adding, “Second time, he ended up without hair on his balls.”

“Last time I tried it, I scattered my family across three years in Dallas, Texas, possibly triggering a doomsday.” Five says, while making himself a cup of coffee. “Anymore questions, Elliot?”

“Uh, no.” Studders Elliot, finally getting the point.

“You’re all missing the big picture. Dad is the ringleader of a sinister cabal that’s planning to kill the president.” Diego says sternly.

“A cabal?” Luther asks, confused again.

“Ignore him” You tell Luther, earning a glare from Diego, you smile at him innocently.

“Look, the way I see it, we only have one option.” States Five.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Questions Luther, half sarcastically.

“It’s time to get the Umbrella Academy back together.” Five says in all seriousness.

“Hell yeah, family meeting.” Diego grins, looking at you, you lift an arm up in reply.

“Why not?”

——

Sitting in the upstairs area near the balcony are Diego, Luther, Vanya, and Elliot, who’s trying to explain the workings and history of jello to everyone. No one really caring enough to listen to his rambling about how it’s made. Meanwhile, you stand looking down at the doors in excited anticipation for your long lost friends.

You listen as they bicker from behind you, Diego still salty about getting the life sucked out of him by Vanya’s energy tentacles, finally they make their peace and you smile to yourself. Proud that he’s matured a bit since then, knowing old Diego probably wouldn’t even be talking to her right now. Hearing the sound of a bell ring, you look up to the doors and spot Five, Allison, and Klaus making their way inside. Shouting their own greetings not catching sight of the rest of you just yet. Now finally looking up, they spot the four of you and shock instantly arrives on their faces, everyone looking at each other with dumbfounded smiles.

“Oh, wow. I know this is impossible, but, did we all get sexier?” Klaus wonders his eyes landing on each of you. You smile at him, missing his stupid humor.

The four of you walk quickly down the steps, grateful to have the whole family back together again. You rush up to Klaus, engulfing him a bear huge. “I missed my partner in crime.” You tell him smiling like an idiot. Breaking away, still holding onto your arms he adds, “Ah my dear, how I’ve missed our Friday night margarita parties.” Smiling at you, Diego then comes in for a brotherly greeting himself. “Oh, you are drunk.”

“Yeah. No, just a little...just a few.” He says glancing at you for a second. You grin shaking your head at him, typical Klaus. He then turns to participate in a group hug with Vanya and Allison. You speed walk over, stretching your arms along with him, engaging in the friendly hug as well. Collecting yourselves together again, you stand back grateful for everyone still being alive and well.

“Klaus. Is Ben here?” Five questions, gathering the attention of everyone.

Putting a hand on his hip he casually says, “Oh, uh...no. No, unfortunately, ghosts can’t time travel.” He says, as he looks around to all of you, avoiding your gaze. You then hear an oddly aggravated whisper as the air pricks with static. Only you notice it, turning to the empty chairs you smirk. You know Ben’s here. Even though you can’t see the dead like Klaus can, whenever he’s around you and as long as he’s not to intoxicated, are you able feel the presence of the ghosts that follow him.

“Y/N is this true?” Five asks you, not completely believing him.

Winking at the chair you turn back to Five, glancing at Klaus for a second. As he rolls his eyes at you. “Everyone’s accounted for. Alive. And dead.” You state.

“All right, then. Let’s get down to business.” Five ends with, starting to walk up the stairs. Never one to mess around for too long, huh.

——

Everyone stares at Five as he begins to apologize for stranding us all here in the 60′s. Then he goes on to confirm about this new apocalypse and whatnot. Surprising Klaus, evidently leading to the discovery of his cult that he apparently somehow started, not that you’re that stunned, if we’re being honest.

Five then shows the picture of Sir Reginald standing on the grassy knoll, Diego fully believing him to be the cause of Kennedy’s death, and Five saying it could be something else entirely. You agreeing with the the more probable explanation of Fives. He does express the fact that no one really knows shit about anything quit yet either, so how could we know it’s actually Reginald on the grassy knoll.

Diego then starts rambling about how the assassination and the apocalypse have to do with their dad, yet again. Five cutting in with his own calculated approach.

“But we know something changes the timeline, we have to make this right.”

“Yeah, but how, if we don’t know what’s broken?” Adds Allison, who’s sitting next to Vanya on the couches large plushy armrest. Klaus sipping a glass of beer or something of the like behind them.

“Come on, do the math. We know Dad’s having shady-ass meetings with some shady-ass people. We know he’s on the grassy knoll in three days to kill the president.” He says looking at everyone, trying to convince them. “So I think we know what we have to do.” He says, walking over to Five after delivering that dramatic line.

Both of them speak at the same time.

“Find Dad.” Says Five.

“Kill Dad.” Says Diego, with slight aggression, your eyebrows raise in surprise.

Everyone looks up at him, confusion clearly written on every single one of your faces. You honestly weren’t expecting Diego to throw the whole ship out to sea. He wants to kill the old fart huh, yeah that’s not gonna fuck up the timeline or anything.

“None of us are supposed to be here, right? I mean, what if it’s us? Has anyone here done anything to screw up the timeline?” Questions Vanya who gets nothing but nervous glances from mostly everyone. You included.

“Diego and Y/N, have been stalking Lee Harvey Oswald.” Blurts out Luther.

“I was an unwilling accomplice.” You retort, sneering at him.

“And you’re working for Jack Ruby.” Diego cuts in defensively.

Klaus speaks up adding, “Allison has been very involved in local politics.” He says, while laying comfortably on the couch.

“Okay, you started a cult.” She snaps back.

“And I’m a nanny on a farm. I don’t have anything to do with all of that.” Vanya says calmly.

“Well, maybe you do, we just don’t know yet.” Allison adds.

Diego whistles bringing the attention of everyone back to him. “Listen to yourselves. Everything in our new lives is connected to Kennedy. That can’t be a coincidence. Luther works for Ruby, Allison is protesting the government, Dad is on the grassy knoll, Klaus is...” he pauses for a second. “Doing something weird and pervy but probably related. See, clearly we were all sent back here for one special reason: saving John Fitzgerald Kennedy.” Diego rambles completely serious about his mindset on Kennedy and the real reason why you are all here. I’m in love with an idiot, you think. Opening your mouth to state your opinion, the rest of them doing the same. Five sits back in thought, sick of all his siblings and yours nonsense.

Sitting up quickly, Five interrupts sadly, “Guys, you all die. Even Y/N. I was there. I saw it. And I wanna forget it, but I can’t.” Everyone shuts up listening to him talk about the end of the world. “I saw Russian nukes vaporize the world with all of you in it...in a war that never happened until we brought it here. And Hazel gave his life to save us, so you may need to shut up and just listen to me.” Everyone looks on concerned and nervous, letting the hard truth about the future set in. “I don’t know if things we’ve experienced here are all connected. I don’t know if there’s a reason for everything. But Dad will. We need to talk to him before everyone and everything we know is dead.”

Pondering the words Five just said to everyone, Luther suddenly gets up. “Okay, I’m out.”

Frustrated Five raises his voice, “Did you even hear me, Luther?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did. I heard a 58-year-old man who still wants his daddy to come and fix everything. Well you can count me out. It’s time we all grew the hell up.” Grumbles Luther, frustrated with everyone and the idiotic idea of going to Sir Reginald for help.

Standing behind the opposite couch of Allison and Vanya, you turn to Five vexed by what he just told you, raising your voice slightly. “Did you get knocked on your head as a child, I mean all of you, seriously? When has Sir Reginald-stick-up-his-ass-Hargreeves ever legitimately helped us do anything?” You pushed, trying to make a point. “Even though I thought I’d never say this actual sentence in my entire life, I’m with Luther. Fuck that old monocle wearing dipshit. I’m out.” You huff pissed off. How could they all actually agree to meeting up with him, like he’s gonna talk it out and everyone’s gonna be A-Okay again, no way. You lived in the Umbrella Academy for seven years. It wasn’t what one would call, a walk in the park.

Everyone’s eyes are on you by the time you’ve finished your passionate rant, all looking very perplexed by your outburst. Your opinionated eruptions aren’t anything new, as you’ve always stood up for yourself and what you believe in, but. You sadly understood that even as grown up as they all are, they still seek guidance in the old man. Luther’s right, it’s time they’ve all gotten their shit together.

“Alright then.” Luther adds turning to walk towards the stairs, you hot on his tail. Hearing the calls from everyone else for you two to come back, you ignore them. Even when Diego gets up, questioning the both of you.

“Don’t.” You glare at him darkly, not wanting to hear any more bullshit about JFK or Reginald.

In a flash, Five teleports directly in front of Luther, blocking your exit down the steps.

“No one leaves until we figure this out.” Five says, a stern expression on his determined face.

Sighing, Luther grabs his uniform, picking him up and throwing him off the staircase. Where Five teleports somewhere before he can hit the hard, tiled floor below.

——

Walking down the side street, next to Luther you keep your eyes forward not wanting to hear anything Diego tries to tell you. Taking the hint, Diego decides to talk to Luther instead. “What’s going on with you, big boy?”

“Ugh, leave me alone, Diego.” Grunts Luther, keeping his eyes forward and locked onto the street ahead of him.

“Huh? So, what, you’re just gonna sucker punch Five and haul ass, huh.” Looking to you, he continues not being able to stop himself. “And don’t even get me started on you, I mean really, you follow me around and then decide to throw in the towel.” He questions dangerously, honestly a bit annoyed that this whole time you were never really on board for saving the president.

You roll your eyes, about to let him have it. “I’m not stepping anywhere near that old fuck. We could handle ourselves, if the rest of you weren’t complete fucking idiots.” You snap.

Grumbling something incomprehensible, he turns to Luther. “You got a legitimate reason for walking out on us?”

“Look, maybe trying to stop doomsday is exactly what starts it. Did you ever think of that?”

“Oh, so we do nothing? Since when are you a quitter?” Challenges Diego.

“Since the last time I destroyed the world by overestimating my own importance.” Luther exclaims, defensively.

“So this is about you never living up to the old man’s expectations bullshit, huh?” Says Diego, trying to keep up with the two of you who are walking quit briskly down the side street.

Luther scoffs, “Maybe. I don’t know, I mean we’re all crazy where Dad’s concerned.”

“Oh, I’m not.” Adds Diego smiling. Yeah okay hot stuff keep telling yourself that, you think, forcing yourself to hold it in. “He’s an asshole. I’m awesome, and Y/N would agree with me too, if she wasn’t so moody. It’s all very simple. You have to understand that, okay?” Diego says smartly, so damn sure of himself.

Stopping at the sidewalk you cross your arms turning to Diego. “So why can’t you leave JFK alone then, hmm?” You look up expectantly, raising an eyebrow as wait for the truth.

He pauses for a moment, “I’m a hero. Heroes stop crime.” He tells you earnestly, not a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Shaking your head at him you take a deep breath, Luther coming to your aid. “No, no, no. No, Dad told you you’re a hero. Right? He told all of us. But what if he lied? What if we’re just a bunch of freaks who have no business changing the world.” Shouts Luther.

“No, everyone changes the world, Luther. Everyone. And it’s scary, but that’s kinda the deal. You know, your so goddamn big, sometimes I forget what a sensitive bastard you are.” Making eye contact with you he continues, “It’s all gonna work out. We’re on the right path.”

“You sound like a religious cat poster.”

“Oh, yeah? How do you know?” Asks Luther confused and frustrated.

Deciding to draw their attentions to something more important, you state an unseen but obvious fact, one that you’ve been silently tracking since the three of you left Elliot’s place. “Hey dipshit’s, there’s a long black car that’s been following us since we left Elliot’s.” They look at you confused for a second. “Six o’clock.”

Luther turns around as a mysterious black vehicle rolls up to you three. The driver getting out and pulling a piece of paper from his inner suite pocket. Handing it to Diego, who takes it cautiously.

Cutting it open with one of his knifes, he begins to read it aloud, “To my pursuers: I, Reginald Hargreeves...request the pleasure of your company for a light supper on the 20th of November, 1963, half past seven o’clock, 1624 Magnolia Street.” He finishes, looking up at the two of you.

“A light supper?” Luther wonders.

Luther and Diego then turn to you, Diego with a dumb smirk plastered across his face, you roll your eyes and hang your head back in defeat. “Goddammit.” You deadpan.

“Anyone hungry?” Luther randomly asks, you guessing it’s his attempt at lighting up the mood.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x you #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves x you #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves #number two #what a time to be alive fic #falcor the luck dragon stories

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princesssarcastia · 4 years ago

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yes, ghosts CAN time travel, actually, don’t be such a Richard, Klaus

titled “frozen time between hearses and caskets” in my fic folder, aka idea #3 from my poll two weeks ago on which Umbrella Academy Season 2 fic I should write. vague vibes also from this poem which I adore; “I AM TIRED OF RE-WRITING TRAGEDY WITHOUT CHANGE. LET THEM LIVE. LET THEM LEARN. LET THEM LOVE.” Because let people grow, goddammit.

this mess to follow is dedicated to @levhach, the only respondent to my poll. I hope you enjoy! also dedicated to Klaus’ genuine kindness and empathy for others in season 1, may it rest in peace.

—————————

“Well, unfortunately, ghosts can’t time travel,” Klaus says, playing at exasperated and put-upon.

“Klaus, don’t be an asshole,” Ben intones from the corner of the room, but Klaus can hear the edge of desperation in his voice.

It’s been years since either of them could even lay eyes on their siblings, let alone speak to them. When Allison appeared at the edge of that pool, it was like heroin; that kind of emotional high could be addictive, if he let it, and he would know. Seeing and being seen are kind of important, apparently.

Nobody ever sees Ben but Klaus.

Except for three years ago, in Vanya’s theater.

Klaus heaves a sigh, letting his shoulders rise and fall. “Oh, fine, you big baby.” He throws up his hands as they take on a distinctly blue hue.

And the whole room…stops.

“Ben,” someone says, or maybe they all say it, and then Diego is in front of their dead teenaged brother and clutching desperately at his stupid leather jacket, and Ben is clutching back and crying.

He sighs again, for real this time, and lets them have this moment. Even Five seems swept up in the emotion of it all, hovering just on the edge of the crowd with his hands stuffed in his pockets and a constipated look on his face.

“So that’s our brother?” Vanya says from right behind him, jesus christ!

“God, we should have put a bell on you,” Klaus says. “Yeah, that’s Ben.”

“Ben,” Vanya draws out his name, like she’s trying it out, and Klaus glances back at her. There’s a hint of some je ne sais quoi, a glimmer of confused grief, in her eyes—like she wants to cry with no idea why, or how.

Vanya, who got teary when they stepped on ants as kids, went berserk and killed the whole world…and then conveniently forgot all about it. Hmm. Klaus has some ideas about that, personally, but he sees no need to share with the class; in his experience, people will remember terrible shit in their own time. Trying to force it will only set her off again.

Plus, he’s not nearly drunk enough for that conversation, even after a morning of margaritas with Allison, who’s turned into a wonderful enabler.

Ben finds him briefly from the center of their little gaggle of siblings, seemingly content with more attention than he’s had in decades.

“I missed you all,” he hears Ben say, and watches their dead brother look at Vanya with grief that isn’t confused at all.

—

They stumble out of Allison’s house, away from her lovely husband—really, Klaus can’t even begin to explain how hard it is to find a partner willing to hide a body for you—and straight into the car Klaus sped over here in. Diego, of course, insists on driving, but Allison is still upset over Raymond and Klaus can’t be bothered, so it works out.

Ben calls shotgun and Klaus automatically pulls Allison into the backseat with him.

“I just,” Allison clears her throat, “Vanya?”

“Again? What are the odds, am I right?” Klaus jibes, and flinches dramatically away from Allison when she elbows him.

“Last time, it was Luther and the rest of you morons that set her off. But none of us have seen her since she left after the dinner from hell, so it couldn’t have been one of us.”

“What is she even doing in the federal building in the first place?” Ben asks.

Klaus hums, “good point, Ben,” and relays it to the others.

He can hear the leather steering wheel creak as Diego tightens his grip. “I don’t—I’m not sure, I was moving pretty quickly to avoid getting caught at Headquarters.”

“But?” Allison prompts when he doesn’t continue.

“But,” Diego’s jaw tightens, “I think she got arrested. By the FBI?”

“The FBI?” Klaus screws up his face. “Who the hell—Allison, did you get her involved with the SJCC in the, what, ten minutes we were all together?”

“No, no I didn’t. But…I mean, someone named Vanya with memory loss in 1963 when the president is in town…” Allison trails off, like the words she emphasized will make some sort of sense when put together.

“They think she’s a communist spy,” Diego says flatly.

“Oh!” Klaus exclaims. “Oh,” he repeats, when that sinks in. “Oh, that—that won’t be good.”

“No, it won’t,” Ben agrees.

Silence fills the car like Agent Orange, and Klaus is just choking on all the implications.

—

His ears haven’t rung like this since helicopters and machine guns and Dave and medic! I need a fucking medic!, but Klaus foists the memory back into the arms of his subconscious because now’s not the time for a panic attack, goddammit.

Allison and Diego are saying something, but he can’t quite hear them; it’s hard to focus with wave after wave of energy flowing into him and into him, into that terrible void he doesn’t like to think about and in fact has spent his whole life drowning out. The energy Vanya is pulsating through the federal building feels like nails on the chalkboard of his soul.

“Question, guys,” he interrupts, “Who are we trying to save Vanya from, again?”

“The FBI,” Diego, Allison, and Ben all say together, and in the same you’re-an-idiot-Klaus tone of voice, too, isn’t that adorable.

Joke’s on them, he’s about to say something relevant. “But if they’re all sucking ceiling right now, why hasn’t she stopped?”

All the bodies scattered about with their eyes burnt out of their skulls is a pretty graphic kind of horrific, even for Klaus, who’s seen pretty much every kind of dead body there is.

Actually…

Klaus waves to get Ben’s attention. The others turn to look at him and Klaus ignores them. “Why aren’t there any ghosts?” He shouts, hands still tight around his ears.

Not Ben, though. He’s just standing there, arms at his sides, like Vanya’s energy isn’t on quite the same wavelength for him as it is for the rest of them. “I don’t,” he frowns, “yeah, that is weird. Can’t you feel that, though?”

Klaus hesitates, then nods back, refusing to explain to Allison and Diego when they make encouraging gestures. There’s no way to articulate it to them, anyway, not in time for them to understand what it means that Vanya can affect his connection with Ben. That Vanya can, apparently, banish the other ghosts, the ones Klaus isn’t anchoring here in the land of the living.

Pressure is building in too-tight air, like a balloon pushed to the brink of bursting. According to Diego, Vanya will defrost the Cold War in another fifteen, maybe twenty minutes or so.

“Can Ben go find out what’s going on with her, then?” Diego shouts at him, and Klaus looks at Ben, who nods and strolls down the hallway more easily than they could, but it feels…weird. Something in his chest tightens, in that same place Vanya’s reaching and Klaus doesn’t like to be aware of it the way he’s forced to be right now.

God, he wants a drink.

It takes almost five minutes for Ben to get there and back, and Klaus feels the blood drain out of his face when he gets a look at Ben’s expression.

“They hooked her up to some kind of generator. Klaus, the readout says it’s up to a thousand volts,” Ben says quickly. “She’s seizing pretty violently; I don’t think she even knows what she’s doing.”

Klaus lets out a blistering string of curses, the kind Sarge would be proud of—come to think of it, Klaus probably learned it from Sarge.

“What, what is it?” Allison shouts, leaning in and trying to look where he’s looking, where Ben stands, intangible and desperate.

“They’re torturing her!” Klaus shouts back.

“So, this is some kind of defense mechanism?” Diego adds his two cents, though Klaus doesn’t think the what of this is really relevant right now.

“We have to go turn it off,” Klaus darts to look at Allison and Diego and then back at Ben. Pressure keeps building in his ears, against his skin, in his brain, in his soul. How the hell are we going to get back there? He’s pretty sure they won’t even be able to stand, let alone walk a hundred and fifty feet. They’ll pop like grapes before they reach the halfway point.

Allison and Diego are shouting something else, now, but it doesn’t matter, because Klaus is looking at Ben and Ben is looking at him and Vanya is reaching that point inside him that anchors Ben, even from all the way back here, and Vanya’s going to blow up this building with them inside it and start World War III and they can’t reach her but Ben can.

Ben can.

He shivers.

Seventeen plus years together means Klaus knows exactly what Ben is thinking, because he’s thinking it, too.

“Are you sure?” He leans into Ben’s space, and Ben crouches down so they’re eye to eye.

“I’m sure,” Ben says easily, like this is easy, god, what a prick.

Something twists in his chest, and he can’t tell if it’s Vanya or his own stupid feelings. “No take-back-sies this time, mein bruder. If we do this—”

“We?” Ben raises his eyebrows and smirks.

“Oh, please, this is at least forty percent me and you know it,” Klaus narrows his eyes petulantly.

His brother shifts weight he doesn’t have back onto his heels, freeing his hands to rise in front of him, palms toward Klaus. “You remember the first time we tried this?”

“We?” Klaus mocks, but takes his own hands off his ears and presses them into Ben’s, letting that peculiar shade of blue envelop both their hands. Not quite visible, not quite tangible, but it’s power. Parts of Klaus flow into Ben like Vanya’s energy waves are crashing into everything around him, twining with the anchor between them until it’s a constant stream Ben can feed off of.

He sucks in a shuddery breath and blows out a shaky one. Allison and Diego are staring at him, wide-eyed, but he keeps ignoring them in favor of Ben.

“Do you think she’ll remember me this time?” Ben asks, smiling at him in that soft way Klaus thought they’d agreed to stop doing years ago. Rude!

Oh, what the hell.

Klaus quirks a real smile at Ben and squeezes his hands. “She’d better.”

—

“I remember everything.”

“Tell Klaus something for me, would you?”

—

fin.

#umbrella academy #fic #fanfic #umbrella academy fanfic #tua fanfiction #season 2 #look i believe klaus is fundamentally the most kind/empathetic of all of them #season 1 shows this well #diego is probably a close second but my main genderless babe klaus is in the lead #also klaus totally knows more about his ghostly powers in season 2 #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #guys that torture scene with vanya was messed up #between that and Klaus' LOVELY session with hazel and cha-cha #there's a nasty habit in this show of not addressing extreme physical and mental trauma #which you know #duh #but also let's explore it in fic for a while #let klaus say goodbye to ben goddamit #even if it's just #in their own snarky special way #let them have a MOMENT jesus fuck #at least a little something more than that weak-ass eye contact #grief #major character death

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vigilantesanonymous · 5 years ago

Text

clean - klaus hargreeves

Diego is your best friend, and he asks you for your help, the one and only favor he’s ever asked of you. The catch? It involves helping his addict brother get clean.

Warnings: addiction, alcohol, mentions of an abusive relationship

Word count: 4900

***

A favor. That’s all that Diego mentioned in his text about why I oh so urgently needed to meet up with him. That’s Diego though, curt, short, and to the point. Elaboration was not his strong suit, never had been.

“You need to get a real place to live, Diego,” I say, looking around the cramped room that reeks of sweaty dudes and menthol muscle cream. “I mean who are you, Rocky Balboa?”

“Hey, I’m doin’ just fine. Mind your own business,” he snarks, obviously butthurt that I don’t revel in the aesthetic of living in a gym as much as he does. “I asked you here to see if you could do a favor for me,” he says, his tone suddenly shifting to serious. “It’s about my brother.”

Diego Hargreeves, in my years of knowing him, has never talked about his family. I know they exist, from all the splashes in old newspapers about the Umbrella Academy. But he would be damned before actually speaking about any of them. Any time that I tried to tease out some information about the strange family that Diego was apart of, he clammed up, changing the subject to literally anything else. So the fact that he wanted to ask me a favor involving his brother had me start to wonder if Diego had been replaced by a clone, a carbon copy of the man who had erased his family from his life.

“Which one?” I ask, slightly confused. “One, four, five, or six?”

“Klaus,” he responds. “I um, I really need your help with him.” Diego rubs at his forehead, his go-to body language for when he’s stressed. “This isn’t easy for me to ask you this, but you’re my closest friend and the only person that I really would trust with him. My brother Klaus is a drug addict, and he got caught, again, buying pills off of some loser. I’ve tried talking to him, talked about getting clean and sober, I know a few of our other siblings have talked to him, but nothing sticks. He just won’t listen to us,” Diego says through gritted teeth. “He’s in jail right now, and I’ve been talking to the ADA to see if they’ll let him out easy if he gets clean. But they’re being really strict about it, and they won’t let him out unless someone really helps him get clean. They’re going to make him get checked weekly, make sure nothing new is in his system. It’s going to be rough.”

“So where do I fit into all of this?”

“That’s what I’m getting to.” Diego has never been one to ask for favors, especially not one this grave, and I can tell it’s painful for him to get the words out. “You’re one of the most kind, patient, loyal people I know. If anyone can help Klaus kick this, it’s you. So, I’m asking you if you’ll help my brother get sober.”

“Diego Hargreeves,” I sigh heavily. I didn’t know on my walk over here that I would be enlisted to become a one woman sobriety clinic, but I owe Diego my life. So anything that he asks of me, I’ll do it.

“I know it’s a lot that I’m asking of you,” he starts, but I cut him off with a shake of my head.

“You know I can’t say no to you, you bastard,” I chuckle softly. “I’ll help your brother. I can’t say that I’m going to succeed, seeing as he sounds like he’s a real pain in the ass, but I’ll help you.”

Diego reaches out and smothers me in one of his rare hugs. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he breathes, giving me a final squeeze. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” I note. “Let’s get your brother out of jail first.”

~~~

Klaus has himself flung dramatically over the bench in the cell, his skinny arms flung to either side of him. Well- it must be Klaus because he’s the only one in the cell. I notice that he has a few tattoos, and more than his fair share of puncture holes around the inside of his elbow. His outfit it… Excentric. A crop top and pants so tight they might as well be painted on him.

“Get up, asshole,” Diego barks.

Klaus looks over lazily, his energy shifting as he sees his brother. He bolts upright, a grin lighting up his features. “You’ve come to rescue me!” He cries as soon as his eyes fall onto Diego. He then turns to me, his expression becoming more coy. “Well Diego, I didn’t know you were going to bring your side piece. I would have cleaned myself up more for a proper introduction.”

Diego and I both look at each other, disgusted. “There’s no way-” “We’re not fucking-” We say at the same time, which only amuses Klaus more.

“Why’s she here then?”

“She’s going to get you sober,” Diego says with a devilish smirk.

“Ah, so she’ll be my keeper then,” Klaus grins.

Diego rolls his eyes. “Look, she’s a good friend of mine, so if you try to pull any bullshit with her-”

“You’ll skin me alive or something like that. Whatever, Knife-Boy.” Klaus dismisses Diego with a wave of his hand.

“Promise me.”

Klaus raises his right hand, cocking his hip to the side. “I promise, okay? Scouts honor. I will be a delightful little cherub and do nothing except focus on becoming squeaky clean and sober.”

“Good. You better.” Diego gives Klaus a knowing glance before turning back to me. “Okay, he’s in your custody. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” I agree, swinging my keys around on my finger. “Alrighty Klaus, let’s get going.”

Klaus and I walk out into the crisp autumn air towards my car in the jail’s dinky parking lot. Despite the weather, Klaus was arrested in a crop top and sinfully tight black leather lace up pants. He shoves his hands in his pockets, goosebumps littering his arms. He shivers slightly. “If it gets any more cold out here, my nips might show.”

I laugh and shake my head at him, unlocking the door to my car. “That’s inappropriate. I’ll have to get you a change of clothes; I run a modest household,” I tease.

“Oh wonderful, I can’t wait for our stay together to begin, then,” Klaus says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m surprised that my brother hasn’t tried to steal this car from you,” he notes as he swings himself into the passenger seat. “I don’t know a whole lot about cars, but this looks a hell of a lot better than that shitty vintage beater he’s got.”

“I know,” I reply. I drive a white ‘72 Ford Mustang, and on more than one occasion Diego has commented on how pretty my car is. I stick the key in the ignition, the roar of the engine a sound that never ceases to comfort me.

“So what’s the plan?” Klaus asks me. He starts toying with the knobs for the radio, switching from one station to the next. “Find a sleazy hotel, snort some coke, have wild sex?” His eyes glitter with mischief as he says this.

“Yeah, don’t you wish,” I retort.

Klaus huffs, folding his arms and slouching down in the passenger seat to pout. “Well you’re no fun,” he sighs. “Can we at least get some cigarettes and take out for dinner?”

“Why don’t we establish some ground rules instead?” I suggest, laughing as he groans loudly from his spot in the passenger seat.

~~~

Something I learned very quickly was how feisty Diego’s brother is. Klaus did not take to sobriety well, and made it very clear and is very vocal that he was not going to get clean without a fight. Within the first day, he had cleared through all the liquor I had stored under my bathroom sink (for when I was having a rough day myself). He was suspiciously quiet for how talkative he had been in the car, which made me nervous. And low and behold, when I went into his room to check on him, he was laying on the floor, giggling to himself and reeking of whiskey. I dragged him to the bathroom and forced him to puke (“Kinky,” he slurs as I hold his head up by the hair. “You know, you’re sexy when you take charge like this. Maybe pull my hair a little harder,” he jeers, clearly enjoying making me flustered by flirting with me. “You having fun? This won’t be so funny in a second, smartass,” I snap. Klaus thought it was a great joke until I shoved my fingers down his throat and he starts purging himself of all my booze).

That was the other thing: the relentless flirting. Whether he was sassy, or he wanted something, or wanted to throw me off guard, or even when he was in one of his sweeter moods, Klaus would always make some kind of remark that never failed to make me blush. After a few days, I should have grown accustomed to it, expected if from him even. But I didn’t, and every time he would say how hot it was that I was taking charge and keeping him from downing as many pills as possible to get high, or when he was shaking and barely coherent and suggesting a sexual exchange in order to get his fix, I would find myself red in the face. I tried to shake it off and chalk it up to him just buttering me up so that he could get what he wanted, but it didn’t always seem that way. Sometimes I would catch him staring at me for a beat too long, his usually mischievous look replaced with something softer. I didn’t really know what to make of it.

“Ah, there she is!” Klaus cries as I walk in the door. He pops up from the couch a little too quickly for my liking for his current state. He’s so close to being done with the ugly stage of withdrawal- the shaking, sweating, screaming in your sleep and calling me a bitch because I wouldn’t get him something to get high with- stage. It’s made him a little worse for wear; he’s shaky and lightheaded because of the lack of drugs in his body. Only a day or two more and it should be out of his system completely. “My little angel! Did you get any snacks for our movie night?”

I feel my face heat up as I root through the convenience store bag for his cigarettes. “Yeah, and I got you a present too.” I hold them out to him, Klaus eagerly snatching them up like a child on Christmas Day.

“Oh, bless you and your beautiful face,” he says gratefully.

“They’re for us to share,” I say as I dump out the contents of the bag onto the counter. Smoking is the only vice that Klaus and I share. Klaus makes fun of me for it, saying that I smoke for the aesthetic of it, whereas he smokes because he’s an addict. I actually picked up smoking to temper my anxiety- the ritual of taking a drag, forcing myself to breathe slowly and surely helps calm me down a lot.

Klaus leans against the counter, lighting up a cig. He takes a deep drag, letting the smoke tumble from his lips. I stand mesmerized as I watch it tangle through the curls in his hair to the ceiling. The slight tremble from his hands stills as he absorbs the nicotine, and I see as the tension starts to ooze out of him. He takes a few more drags before offering it to me.

“I really can’t thank you enough,” he says as I take a puff of my own. “That nicotine really hit the spot.” He shuffles over to me and gives me a quick peck on the cheek, his facial hair tickling my face as he does. “A token of my appreciation.”

I giggle, playfully blowing smoke at him. “I’m glad I could make your day, Klaus.”

“Well, there’s always something you could do to make my day,” he grins, giving a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. He hoists himself onto the counter, feet dangling. He positions himself over me so he can see what else I grabbed for us. Giggling softly to himself, he leans back lazily as he watches me put things away in the kitchen. “Yeah, I’m pretty easy to keep happy. Smokes, yummy food, and someone to love me.”

Before I could respond, my phone started ringing. Diego, probably prompting me for another update on Klaus’ sobriety. I mentally scream, annoyed that I can’t seem to ever get to the bottom of Klaus’s flirting. Reluctantly, I walk down the hall to answer the phone, wishing the whole time I just would get the courage to deny the call and see what Klause really means.

“Star China is absolute trash,” Klaus says, shaking his head. “I refuse to eat it. We should get takeout from that place that’s called Little Hong Kong or something. Their egg rolls?” He kisses his fingers, blowing it towards me. “Absolute perfection.”

I can never beat Klaus with his antics. They definitely have added to my experience of living with him. He always finds a way to overembelish an interaction, which keeps me on my toes. “Fine, we’ll get your fucking takeout place,” I say with a laugh. “But I want noodles.”

“Wait! I want noodles!” Klaus whines. “Can I have some too?”

Klaus and I take a few minutes to negotiate what to order, Klaus perched over my shoulder as he reads the menu. His breath tickles my neck, causing my heart to start beating out of control.

I pay for delivery, Klaus hopping up and down behind me as I gather all the food from our driver and shut the door with my hip. “Thank God,” Klaus moans. “I’m starving. I mean, I could practically wither away with how hungry I am.”

“Oh, shut up,” I laugh. “I feed you. It isn’t my fault that you choose not to eat vegetables.”

He snatches one of the boxes of takeout from me, grabbing a fork and heading for the couch.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“I like to be comfy when I eat!” Klaus calls back, already shoveling food into his mouth.

I roll my eyes. He’s always distracted by something, whether it’s Ben talking to him or the TV, which causes him to get crumbs everywhere. But he’s already rooted himself to the corner of the couch, his feet tucked underneath of him as he devours his chicken lo mein.

“Okay,” I agree, setting the other food down on the coffee table. “But if I find any crumbs someone is picking them all up, and it’s not going to be me.”

“Ben?” Klaus asks, pointing to the chair across from him.

“That’s kind of rude to pin the chores on your dead brother,” I retort.

“Don’t back him up!” Klaus cries, which only makes me laugh more. I decide to sit down next to him, making it easier for us to share food. Well, that, and I will take any excuse to be close to Klaus. “I was planning on sharing some of this, but now I’m not going to,” he huffs defiantly.

“Oh, come on Klaus. Please?” I lean against him, hoping that batting my lashes will win him over.

Klaus stops for a second, taking me in. He looks me over and grins, jumping back into his character. “Oh, fine. I can’t say no to a girl as pretty as you.” He twirls some noodles around on his fork, holding it up to feed me some.

I take the food from him, positioning myself so I’m leaning against him slightly. Klaus moves some of the cushions so that I’m leaning more on him than I am on them. He takes advantage of the way we’re sitting to steal a piece of shrimp from me, his eyes twinkling with delight as I turn to look at him, but I don’t call him out for it.

“Y’know, out of all of my siblings, I could argue that Diego is the least conversational,” Klaus notes as we sit nestled together on the couch. “So how on earth did a nice girl like you become friends with such a hard ass like him?”

I pick at my noodles, moving them by pushing them into a pile and then placing one on top of the other. “It’s kind of a long story,” I say, not really answering the question. I don’t really want to talk about how Diego and I became so close. Diego’s one of the most important people I know, and I owe him my life, but reminiscing on the finer details of how we developed our bond wasn’t something I wanted to focus on.

Klaus shrugs. “Well, I’ve got time. I’m all ears. I mean, I really couldn't leave if I wanted to. Not that I do, of course.” He shifts closer to me, his bright green eyes locking earnestly with mine. I can’t bring myself to turn him down. He’s looking at me supportively, almost like he knows that there’s something sensitive tied to my friendship with Diego. “I was working at a bar he would go to a lot between calls, or if he just wanted some time off from being a self-proclaimed super hero,” I start slowly. “And I was dating this guy at the time. And he and I move in together, because I’m young and naive and I think that even though there’s a million red flags, that moving in together is going to solve all of our problems. But he starts getting rough with me- real rough. So one night we’re fighting, like top of our lungs screaming at each other, and I just get this feeling like…” I stop to rub at my temples. Thinking back to that night brings back so many memories I prefer to keep buried. “I felt like that was it. He was going to kill me. I don’t really remember how I got away from him, but I locked myself in the bathroom and called Diego, just saying that I needed to get out of there and someone to be with me. I knew the police took too long, and I was scared out of my mind. I went back out of the bathroom, and he was choking me, saying that I would leave over his dead body. And then, in a moment of pure poetic irony, I see a knife sink into his jugular.” I chuckle darkly.

My mind flashes back to that night, the images reeling like a silent film. I remember how dark it was in the apartment, what little light illuminated his face was starting to blur around the edges as I lost more and more oxygen. And the thick thunk sound as Diego’s knife sunk into his neck. The way he stumbled back, grasping at it like that was going to do anything. Me sinking to the cold, hard floor, coughing and trying to catch my breath. My head pounding, my vision coming back, the feeling flooding into my extremities. And Diego, silently slinking forward out of the shadows as my boyfriend bled out on the floor, his eyes hidden beneath his Academy mask.

“Good old knife boy,” Klaus chuckles darkly. “I’m sorry though,” he says seriously. “You don’t deserve that. I mean nobody does, but especially not you.”

“It’s okay,” I say, but we both know it’s not.

Klaus silently pulls me into a hug, resting his chin on my head. I feel small but safe in his embrace. “So how come you guys never got together?” I appreciate his attempt to change the subject, even though it’s one that still makes me feel a little awkward. He tries to sound blase about it, but I feel like there is a twinge of something else to his tone. “Diego is one of my best friends, and I’m forever grateful to him, don’t get me wrong…” I taper off. “I just… I know that he could never see me as anything but the way I was that night. When he saved me. And in some ways, I appreciate how protective and respectful he is to me. But if I’m with someone, I want them to see more to me than just that. I know he couldn’t ever do that with me.”

Klaus hums in agreement. “I can see that. Diego is a good guy, but he definitely takes the vigilante hero role to a whole new level. I think that’s what ruined his relationship with the cop lady-”

“Patch?”

“Yeah! That one.”

“Yeah,” I agree.

I can tell Klaus is looking at me out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t care right now. I feel weirdly distant all of a sudden, like I need some air and space or something. “I think I’m going to go to bed,” I say, almost mechanically.

“Okay.” Klaus gives my hand a little squeeze. “Sweet dreams.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, but I’m sure he doesn’t hear it.

Thinking about my ex always puts me in a bad place. That’s why I try to avoid it as much as possible. And that’s why I always keep alcohol around. Is it healthy? No. But I’ll be damned if I have to stay up all night with these thoughts and not get any sleep because of him. One thing I got at the convenience store that I didn’t tell Klaus about was the liter of my friend The Captain, Captain Morgan to be exact. I start throwing back shot after shot, making a face as I do, the sting of the alcohol making my mind melt slowly. But after a few, things start to loosen up, relax. And I feel like I can finally sleep because my thoughts are so spaced out, floating loosely in my brain.

I feel myself bolt upright in my sleep before I fully realize that I’m awake. In my drunken stupor, I realize it’s Klaus screaming in his sleep that’s woken me up. Again. Poor thing, I think to myself. Maybe he needs someone with him right now. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and walk down the hall to his room.

He doesn't hear me come in at all. “Klaus,” I whisper. He stays asleep, his face screwed up with fear.

“No… No…” he murmurs. “Please Dave, stay with me.”

“Klaus,” I say again, firmer this time. I give him a little shake, to which he gasps as he wakes up, his fingers digging into my forearms.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “Fuck, am I glad you’re here.” He whispers it like a prayer. Any of the usual giddiness and antics is gone from Klaus’ usually bright eyes. Instead, he looks scared and exhausted, the kind that builds up from years of torment and pushing down emotions. He releases me from his grip, falling back on the bed with a faint thud.

“Move over,” I instruct. Obediently, Klaus scoots over so I can fall into bed beside him.

For once in his life, Klaus is doesn’t have anything to say. I hear him panting, still recovering from his nightmare as I scoot around until I get comfortable. I look up at him to see him staring back down at me.

“What’s wrong Klaus?”

He looks down, his long lashes tickling the tops of his cheeks. “It was just… A really bad nightmare, that’s all.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

He shakes his head. “Not really.”

I hold my arms out to him, silently offering to hold him. Klaus accepts, shimmying himself into my embrace. His skin is cold and clammy from sweat and fear. I put my hand on his chest and can feel his heart thumping hard and quick, the way it does when you’re terrified. I feel him trying to relax in my embrace.

“You smell like booze,” he says softly. I sigh, glad I can’t see his face. Whether it’s a smug smirk of perfect me being not so perfect, or a scowl of disappointment, that was honestly the last thing I needed to see right now.

I let out a weary sigh before responding. “Well, you’re not the only one who’s been having a rough night.”

“I’m not judging,” he says quickly, almost nervously. “Trust me, I’m the last person who would.” He flips around to face me, snaking an arm around my waist. “If you tell me about yours I’ll tell you about mine,” he offers earnestly.

“Maybe in the morning,” I suggest. The alcohol is coming back to haunt me, and my brief moment of coherence is wearing off now that I don’t have to attend to the screaming man. I feel tired, and I’m comfortable in bed tucked next to the man that I’ve grown to love. Love. Loving Klaus is a scary thought, but I don’t want to over analyze it in the state I’m in. That could be saved for later. “I promise we can in the morning if you still want to. I’m just, I’m really tired Klaus,” I admit.

Klaus nods, silently agreeing with me. “Okay,” he says softly. “I’m tired too.” Hesitantly, he nuzzles himself into my embrace, placing his face in the crook of my neck and wrapping his long skinny arms around me.

~~~

Most mornings, I wake up headache free. This is not one of those mornings. I peel my eyes open, not understanding why I’m not in my own room and why the fuck is Klaus here?!

“I tried not to move around so I wouldn’t wake you up,” Klaus admits as he watches me grasp at my throbbing temples. He must have been watching me for a while, which I find oddly sweet instead of strange. “How are you doing, sport?” He’s sat up slightly, looking down at me with tender eyes. His dark hair is fluffy and sticking up slightly on one side from sleeping. Klaus is warm too, and I reflexively scoot towards him, he silently shifts to accomodate me.

“Not well,” I answer gruffly. Then I start to put the pieces together. Drunk me really stumbled all the way to Klaus and slept with him? God, I need to never do that ever again.

“Someone’s a little cranky,” he teases. “I can’t believe you didn’t share though!”

“Klaus!” I snap. His face falls, immediately sorry.

“I shouldn’t have asked you all that stuff last night, huh?” He asks softly. “I’m sorry I brought it up. His ghost just keeps following you around though, and he was being so annoying with the accusing and bitching and-”

I sit up so fast that I feel woozy. “Did you just say that my ex-boyfriend’s ghost is following me around?”

“Um, yeah?” He says it so plainly, like it’s common knowledge. “Did- Did Diego seriously not tell you about our powers? They’re kinda like the whole reason that I’m fucked up literally all the time. Both literally and metaphorically.”

“No Klaus, he didn’t mention the powers or the seeing dead people thing,” I sigh.

“I’m really sorry,” Klaus says softly.

“What? What are you sorry for?”

“I just- I’m sorry that Diego dumped me on you, and that you’re trying to take care of me, and that your ex-boyfriend is a piece of trash,” he says a little bit louder to an empty space in the room. “I know I can be a lot. But no one has ever been this kind to me- well, scratch that. No one has been this kind to me since Dave.” He rakes his fingers through his hair, trying to find the words to tell me what the hell he means. “What I’m trying to say is- You’re a really amazing person. You didn’t have to help me with all of this, getting clean, you didn’t have to come to see if I’m okay when I’m having nightmares.” He slips my hands into his, rubbing his thumbs soothingly over the back of my hands. “I like you a lot. Like, really like you a lot. I’ve been really scared of being vulnerable with someone after Dave but, you make me feel not so scared.”

“So all the flirting was real?” I ask. I feel slow, my brain processing what I’m hearing a few beats too late.

“Of course it was. You’re fucking hot!” He cries, both of us giggling. “Um,” he swallows, flinging back to seriousness. “If you would want to like, be an item, or date, or something… That would be cool.”

I giggle, sliding a hand up to cup his face. He flicks his gaze up to meet mine, his green eyes melting into mine. I lean in and press my lips to his firmly, Klaus immediately melting into the kiss. He makes a little squeak of excitement as I pull him closer to me, grinning ear to ear when I pull away.

“How’s that for an answer?” I smirk.

“I don’t know, I think I’ll have to check again,” Klaus says before pulling me in for another kiss.

#klaus hargreeves #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves fluff #klaus hargreeves x oc #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagine #the umbrella academy imagine

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suzu-kun22 · 4 years ago

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AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26268835

Prompt: Addiction/withdrawal Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (TV) Pairings: None Warnings: Kind of obvious but, drug addiction. Drug withdrawal. Very brief suicidal ideation. Summary: Klaus forgets that his tolerance is getting better. The ghosts don’t. @badthingshappenbingo

If there are any specific prompts you’d like me to write and any specific scenarios/fandoms/pairings you’d like me to write for, just send in an ask!

Story below the cut!

Klaus Hargreeves doesn't exactly remember the last time he was sober.

It isn't much of a surprise. Most of his mental energy at this point in time is spent on when he's going to get his next high. Sometimes he worries about money – not because he cares whether he starves to death or sleeps on the street, but because he knows that he needs money if he's going to keep the ghosts at bay any longer – and sometimes a passing thought will dedicate itself to wondering after his siblings. Is Luther still stuck with dear old dad? Is Diego still getting himself injured like an idiot? Is Allison remembering to take time for herself?

Is Five even still with them? He wonders that, sometimes.

Is Vanya feeling any better? He did spare some of his remaining competent brain power to reading her book. Honestly, even with everything in that book that she wrote about him – calling him everything from a nutcase to a junkie – Klaus can't blame her. It isn't as though it's untrue. He is a nutcase. He is a junkie. Maybe he'd be upset if she had told a lie. Maybe he'd care, even slightly, if there had been some mistruth.

But, honestly, why does Klaus care if the world knows the truth about him? He's never pretended to be anything else. A nutcase. A junkie. The disappointment. Perhaps even more than poor little Vanya. She never had the potential to live up to their bastard of a father's expectations, no matter what she did. It isn't her fault. Klaus would never think less of her for it. What a stupid thing to judge people on.

Klaus, however, was fully capable of living up to everything his father wanted from him. Klaus could have been great. Klaus could have harnessed those powers that his father thought were so powerful, and become someone so much stronger. Stronger, maybe, than even Luther or Diego or–

"Klaus."

He blinks himself out of a stupor. He fell into thoughts, at some point. Maybe he didn't take enough, if he can still fall into thoughts of things such as family. Past. Fathers. Anything and everything that he would rather forget in favor of the numb bliss of a high. He closes his eyes again and leans backwards. Maybe he's hoping to fall asleep and let the numbness wash over him. Maybe he's hoping that the person snapping in his face will just bug off already.

"Klaus." The person repeats, pointedly and angrily and Klaus furrows his brow in annoyance. Can't they see that he's trying to sleep? Can't they see that he's tired and that the drugs are making him sleepy?

"Klaus. Open your eyes."

"What!?" He finally snaps, eyes opening and entire body lurching forward. His coat slips from his shoulders, and honestly he doesn't care enough to try adjusting it. He's not going to move. Why bother? No matter how far he might stumble, where he might go, there isn't anyone who would care enough to help him out. There's no one who would open their door for him, and he doesn't have the energy to break into Diego's apartment or look up Allison's phone number.

"Oh, forgive me for worrying about my brother's health." Klaus' companion practically hisses. Through the haze of his vision, Klaus can just about see Ben Hargreeves, his brother, with arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrowed. "You're shaking, Klaus. If I were you, I wouldn't pass out on the street."

"Oh, truly?" Klaus mocks, waving his hands as though doing so would help make his point in any way. He doesn't even have a point to make. His head is starting to hurt, and really he just wants to go to sleep. As much as he loves his brother – that's what he's supposed to think, right? Not how much he wishes his precious brother would just leave him the fuck alone – he really wishes he could throw a brick right at Ben's face. Maybe that would shut him up. "Why wouldn't you? Passing out sounds great, right about now!"

Ben raises an eyebrow, as though Klaus' words are truly ridiculous. Maybe they are. He's starting to think that he definitely didn't take enough. His tolerance keeps getting higher and higher and the drugs are less and less effective. It's never pleasant to blow every penny he's managed to gather on an amount that would have gotten him high as a kite just a month ago to find that it barely has any effect. Maybe it's time to give up. Maybe it's time to just stab that needle into his neck and call it a day.

If he can't stop the ghosts, might as well become one. Right?

He shudders at the thought. As though Ben would ever let him do something that self-destructive. No matter what Ben's interactions with the world could be, Klaus doesn't think he could bring himself to do something like that in front of his brother. Not Ben, anyway. The brother who has followed him around so loyally since they were teenagers.

Not that either of them had much of a choice.

Ghosts are drawn to Klaus Hargreeves. Of course the one belonging to his brother – and the one he was closest with to boot – wouldn't leave his side.

Klaus' hands start to shake.

"My head hurts." He mutters, raising his hands to pull at his short brown hair. Headaches are nothing new. Often they come with the drugs – or at least they come with the drugs wearing off – but this one is a different kind of familiar. A worse kind of familiar.

Klaus.

He feels himself jump. His shoulders start shaking. His fingers detach themselves from his hair and fumble through his pockets. Fingers jumping and shaking and there's no way he's out, right? There's no way there's no way there's no way–

Klaus!

He jumps again. He feels a whimper bubbling up through his throat. There's nothing in his pockets. How did he run out already? There's no way there's no way there's no way–

Klaus!!

He gasps for air. Desperate and pained and god can they ever just shut the hell up–

"Klaus."

His eyes snap open. He looks up. Ben is there. Ben is exactly where Klaus left him, but his eyes don't look as... upset? Angry? Annoyed? Ben doesn't usually wear concern so blatantly. Usually he hides it beneath a layer of judgement. Just to make sure that Klaus is always aware that Ben doesn't condone his choices.

"Klaus, hey." Ben's voice is quiet. Comforting, almost. It brings him back. So far back. He remembers being 12. 13. 14. After long days of training – or what their father thought was training, anyway – where Klaus barely knew up from down anymore and he'd end up dragged back to the house. Barely conscious and entirely stuck in the sounds of the angry dead.

Those days, where Ben would be the one to whisper to him that it was okay. That Klaus was safe, and whatever their father had taken him to do was over now. He remembers never believing it. No matter how many times Ben would hug him and let him cry and scream and whimper and–

"Klaus. Listen to me." Ben continues, and Klaus' hands slip over his ears. Maybe. Maybe he can just block them out that way. Maybe he should just gouge out his ears. If he can't hear, then the ghosts can't bother him. Right? Maybe–

"It's okay." Ben whispers. "You're okay. You're not there. You're here. With me. It's Ben. Dad is gone, the ghosts can't hurt you, and you're okay. The withdrawal will wear off. You'll be okay. It'll be okay."

Klaus almost wants to laugh. Say something about how stubborn life coach Ben Hargreeves suddenly took a turn into soft and gooey feelings territory, but he thinks himself far too tired for such a thing right now. His head hurts. He wants to sleep. He wants to feel numb. His entire body itches for something that he doesn't have, and he thinks that this might just be the worst feeling in the world.

"Klaus," Ben's voice stays quiet. "You can do this. You don't need the drugs. You can do this. You're strong. You can do this on your own."

Maybe that's what sets him off. Of course Ben would use this to try to shove that bullshit down his throat once again. Of course. Of course of course of course. What else did he expect? No matter how soft Ben makes his tone or how much Klaus is reminded of their teenage years, Ben wants Klaus to do something. And, as Klaus now knows, Ben is willing to use Klaus' trust in him to get him to do it.

"Think I can pickpocket enough for some coke~?" Klaus coos, forcing himself to his feet and waving his hands dramatically. Flashing both the 'Hello' and 'Goodbye' to his brother as he starts down the alley. He struggles not to sway, eventually leaning against the alley wall with one hand. He can't hear Ben following, but knows that his brother is hot on his tail.

Maybe Ben is right. Maybe Klaus should just let the drugs leave his system and work on a way to deal with his powers all on his own. Maybe that would be the best thing for him. Maybe that would be the healthy, adult way to handle this.

But, really, does Klaus care what the healthy, adult way to deal with his problems is?

No?

That's what he thought.

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inyourwildestdreamslove · 6 years ago

Text

Fearless

You deal in fear...

So who else to help Klaus master his powers? Who is quite determined to set you up with his brother...

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“No one ever does darling...”

Diego x Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 1: Lost in Coma and Covered in Cake

All it took was one look to see that he needed help.

With a single touch you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this man lived in incessant fear of his power.

How did you know?

Fear is your territory.

Walking down the street towards your studio you see a man lying in the alley way. Normally you would just sidestep him, you don’t have the time or energy to deal with telling someone you don’t have any cash and then the guilt you always feel afterwards from not helping.

‘You can’t help everyone…’ you mentally tell yourself.

You walk by without a glance back until you hear, “Ma’am? You dropped this…”

His voice is weak and little gruff and you feel your heart break, but you couldn’t ignore him.

You turn around and notice that one of your Cliff Bars have fallen from your bag. You turn around and hesantiantly reach out to take it back, and when you do your hand brushes against his. Flashes of pitch black with haunting faces and screams assault you, a overwhelming feeling of loneliness sugres through your body, the fear of being forgotten, left for dead, the pain of fists hitting your body, the sound of gun fire, cold streets, loss and finally blackness.

When you open your eyes you can see the man hovering over your clearly panicking.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! You’re not dead! You’re not dead!”

His hands were hovering over you like he wanted to touch you but was terrified of doing so.

“It’s okay… it’s not your fault… it’s mine.” you mumble as you attempt to sit yourself up on the sidewalk. The guy is on his knees in front of you with his eyes still wide with panic.

“No… I’m sorry… that was my fault… I didn’t mean to…” his voice is breaking and you watch as he dissolves into tears. What could have possibly be left of your heart breaks and you slowly reach out to him. He flinches back from your touch and you do everything in your power not to pull him towards you. You know better than to do that though.

“Have you had breakfast?” you ask softly.

He looks up at you with tear filled eyes and shakes his head.

“Would you like some?”

He sniffles as he nods.

“Okay… come on.” You hold out your hand with confidence. You’ve already steeled yourself against him. He’s taller than you that several inches and he looks down at you with confusion.

“I don’t understand…” he finally murmurer, “I hurt you. Why are you being nice to me? Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

The laugh you let out is almost musical, “I’ve met far scarier people than you darling.”

He’s clearly confused as he rushes off down the street after you, his longer legs making it easy for him to catch up you.

“What are you thinking for breakfast?”

“Waffles?” he asks hopefully.

“Waffles it is.”

The two of you are sitting in a diner with your very confused waitress pouring your coffee when the man whose name you now know is Klaus asks the question.

“What did you mean when you said that you’ve met people scarier than me?”

You shrug glancing down at your coffee, “For as long as I can remember I could see people’s fears and nightmares, I could sense their emotions and I can bring these things to life.”

He looks at you in amazement.

“You’re one of us?”

“One of who?”

“You have powers like us… my siblings and me.”

“Siblings?”

“Uhhh...yeah… you remember the Umbrella Academy from when we were kids?”

You blink at him for a moment remembering the childhood crush you had on one of the boys. You remember feeling not as alone as you read multiple articles about them.

“Seance,” you whisper.

“Yeah… how did you know?” he gives a humorless chuckle.

“You fear the dead.”

He looks up at you amazement before he whispers, “Yeah…”

“I’m trying not to be...They just don’t stop...ever.”

“I can help you.”

He looks up at you in amazement.

“You can? How?”

“You don’t think I wasn’t terrified of what I could do as a child either?”

He just nods in understanding, “How did you do it?”

“Well it wasn’t easy...I didn’t sleep much as a child...It wasn’t until I was much older that I even got a grasp on it. I always felt like a freak. It was actually you and your brother Ben that helped me come to terms with who I was.”

“What?” he says clearly confused.

“Yeah… I thought I was alone in the world then you guys got those guys in that what was it a bank robbery?”

“Yeah… our debut! Dear old Dad trained us up for years for that shit…” he says with a faux jollyness dripping with venom.

“Well when I found out what you guys could do… it gave me the courage to face my own powers. So I started to research coping mechanisms and figuring out means of training. I’m almost entirely in control all the time now.”

“I’m still sorry about earlier.”

“It’s okay… It was just stronger than usual, probably because of our powers.”

He just nods feeling like that is pretty true.

The waffles that are now in front of him don’t stand a chance as you watch him begin to inhale them. You are beginning to wonder when the last time he had a good meal was. It’s quiet between the two of you as you both eat your breakfast.

“So which of us did you have a crush on?” He asks with a shit eating grin.

“Like I would tell you!” You exclaim in amusement.

“Oh come on! I bet it was Luther wasn’t it? Allll the girls had a thing for Luther!”

It was NOT Luther!” You say with a surprised laugh.

“Me then?” He says as he puts his hands on the table and rests his chin in them fluttering his lashes at you.

You roll your eyes at his behavior.

“So it is me! Did you make a shrine?” His eyes widen comically, “ that’s why you decided to help me! You’re going to try to make your sex slave to abate your school girl obsession with my body!”

You throw your head back and laugh, “Oh darling! You have no idea the fantasies I’ve had about… your brother… not you.”

He sends you a very disappointed look, “So you don’t want me to be your sex slave?”

“Hmmm as tempting as that is… no…”

“Well it's either Ben,” he says glancing to his right, “Or Diego.”

You just shrug as you chew the last bite of you waffle and hold his stare.

“I’ll figure it out… You can’t hide it from me forever.”

You just send him a wink over the rim of your coffee mug.

“Klaus?” you ask calmly.

He looks up from his eggs to you giving you his attention.

“Where are you living right now?”

He looks down for a minute, “The Umbrella Academy… that hell hole…”

You nod in understanding, you don’t know the whole story but you know enough by his tone to know that it’s not a good place for him.

“Well I have today off and I was thinking about going shopping, do you want to come with me?”

“(Y/n), does this make us… friends?” he asks with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Of course!” you say with a laugh before you pick up the check and take care of the bill.

When you look back up at him from signing the receipt you don’t understand the look he is giving you..

“What?” you ask in confusion.

“Nothing..” he say giving you a smile.

“Well let’s go have a good day okay?” you ask gently.

You don’t know what has happened to him, but you know that he has a lot of healing to do and you just hope you are the person to do it.

So I did thing... I fell into this... I didn’t ask to adopt Klaus... I just want to hold him and tell him its okay. Chapter 2 soon!

#the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #klaus x reader #the umbrella academy imagine #diego hargreeves imagine

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kilyra · 6 years ago

Text

Who Are You? (Part 1)

Klaus and Ben Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy) One-Shot **Parts 1-4 ARE AVAILABLE from the masterlist in my bio**

A/N: So, @pegxcarter developed her own OC with some ideas of a story for her, and has graciously let me play with this arc. I’m so, SO happy she approached me. It’s just too fun!

You are one of the other miracle babies and your gift is to heal which led you to a career as a paramedic. Everything went smoothly until you responded to a call for Klaus who was ODing and in rough shape.

Warnings: None. Spoiler-free and a minor swear word.

If you want to be on my tag lists, (all or just a character) just let me know!

Snapping your gloves on, you knelt beside the young man lying on the cold sidewalk. His breathing was shallow and his dark curls were pasted against his sweaty head. “Sir? Sir, my name is Y/n and I'm here to help you.”

He didn't respond and you weren't expecting him to. A small crowd had formed but the officer that first responded to the call already had everyone edged back. Looking up, you nodded at him. “Do we know what happened here?”

Not waiting for a reply, you slid your hands around the back of the man's head, carefully feeling his scalp and checking your hands for blood. Nothing. You continued your initial check down his body.

“No, the caller didn't see anything, but he's apparently around here regularly – usually strung out. She says his name is Klaus.”

His nose appeared to be broken and blood was splattered along his upper lip. Lance, your partner, frowned. "Well, it looks like he got his clock cleaned tonight too."

Prying his eyelids open, you shone your penlight into his eyes. His dilated pupils showed minimal response. Shifting up on one knee, you looked between the officer and your partner. “Looks like OD or possible brain damage. Or both. His vitals are weak, we need to get him to the hospital. We good to take him?”

After giving you the go-ahead, it was mere moments before he was strapped to the stretcher and being loaded into the back of the ambulance. As Lance slid behind the wheel, you braced yourself and continued to monitor Klaus.

He seemed slightly more responsive as his eyes started moving under his lids. Softly groaning between uneven breaths, an aura of pain seemed to settle around him. It tugged at you.

Glancing up, you made sure Lance was focused on driving after sorting out with dispatch which hospital to head to. Since they directed him to one across the city, it was going to be a long ride.

Staring down at Klaus as you checked his pulse again, the tugging at your heart grew more insistent. There was so much hurt and something you couldn't quite put your finger on. He seemed small somehow under the oxygen mask. Feeling the growing pull of your patient, you knew you were going to help him. Really help him.

You didn't do it often because you didn't want to draw too much attention, so if a patient was stable, you held back. But, in truth, you liked it. You liked helping people and getting them back on their feet as soon as you could. Only your version of soon was immediate.

It was a guarded secret in your family that, the morning of the day you were born, your mother wasn't pregnant. You were one of the 43 children born in October of 1989 and at a young age you discovered you could lay your hands on people and pull their injuries from them. It caused you to feel a phantom version of their pain as you healed them, but it passed. In your heart, you knew sharing their injuries was a small price to stop someone's suffering. Although you couldn't stave off death, you could mend broken limbs, close wounds and reverse other various damage to the body. It was definitely a perk for this profession.

Clearing your mind, you let out a long exhale as you gave your hands a quick shake. Taking another steadying breath, you set one hand on Klaus' cheek and the other on the bare skin of his hand. Focusing all your strength on him, you let your energy reach inside and pull his pain as you braced yourself. You were sure he at least had a concussion so this wasn't going to feel great.

A blinding white light of pain exploded as you felt the bridge of your nose crunch. Something was very wrong.

Grunting, you let go and stumbled before a floating feeling lifted you away. You were flying...but were you still in the ambulance? Everything seemed to loosen its grip as it melted away and you drifted.

What's an ambulance? Why did that matter when you just wanted to keep floating?

But you couldn't keep floating. You became aware of a sensation, something was radiating from your face, a warmth. No...no, it was cold. Didn't you hurt your nose? But the cold was above that, from your forehead.

And then the screaming started. But not yours.

People were all around you, insistently shrieking and yelling as they closed in. They blinked in and out, moving between transparency and solid forms, but all shouting at you. Squeezing your eyes closed did nothing to shut them out and your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might seize up. It was deafening...and horrifying.

Slowly, you realized they were all screaming the same thing. Klaus.

“Klaus, Klaus! Breathe. You're in the worst of it now...just try and stay calm.” A kind voice cut through the chaos, freeing you.

Struggling, you fought to open your eyes as the screaming faded. Sinking back into yourself, everything came into sharp focus as you gasped for air.

You were still hanging onto the side of the stretcher with your forehead pressed against its cold framework. Clumsily, you pulled your feet back under you, but everything was so hard. Your limbs were slow to respond. Were you high?

A muffled voice drew your attention. Following the sound, you looked up and saw Klaus staring down at you, wide-eyed. He glanced at the oxygen mask before he slipped his hand from under the strap and pulled the mask off to hang around his neck. “Are you okay?”

As he spoke, he reached for your arm. Watching his hand come closer, panic shot through you.

Throwing yourself back, you crashed against the side of the ambulance, sending supplies tumbling to the floor. “Don't touch me!”

Clutching his hand to his chest, Klaus froze as the ambulance swerved.

“What's going on? You okay, Y/n??” Alarm overtook Lance's tone.

Swallowing heavily, you fought to find your voice. “Y-yeah. W....we're all good back here, just keep driving.”

“You...you did your thing didn't you? But wasn't he stable?” His voice was softer.

“Just...just keep driving,” you said as you carefully used a small shelf to pull yourself to your feet. Everything was trembling so hard you didn't trust yourself to stand without help.

Turning his attention away from you, Klaus hissed. “What's going on? Why am I here?”

“You don't remember?”

Looking towards the new voice, you saw a young man with neatly kept hair, casually lounging at the end of the stretcher.

“I...I mean, do I really need to remember every little thing?” Cocking his head, Klaus scoffed.

“You got knocked out for being an asshole, that's what happened. And you were out so cold they had to call you an ambulance because they thought you might die.” The stranger sounded unimpressed as he tilted his head, mirroring Klaus.

“But why am I sober? I paid a lot of money to not be sober. And what was with...” He let his words dangle as he jerked his head your direction.

“That, I don't know. She just touched you and-”

“Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?” As you cut him off, his eyebrows slowly rose. In almost perfect unison, he and Klaus turned their stunned gazes onto you.

You felt weak, but you forced your confidence. “You can't be in here.”

Leaning forward, he narrowed his soft, brown eyes. “You can...see me?”

Fighting through the receding waves of fog, you realized your face was still throbbing with a dull pain. Reaching up, you pressed against your nose and found it was intact and fine. But as you rubbed your hand under your nostril you saw smeared blood on your fingers. "Yeah..."

“Wait, wait, wait. You can see him? Ben. That guy right there??” Klaus pressed the question, pointing to the stranger.

“The guy I didn't let in here? Of course I can...I...what's going on?” You rubbed the blood between your fingers and thumb. You've never bled from pulling an injury before. And you've never...whatever the hell happened, you'd never been through that before.

“I have no idea. No one else has been able to see me before.” Ben replied with a mix of confusion and excitement as you were looking down.

That voice...it was the same one that pushed all the screams away.

Snapping your gaze back up to him, something felt off. Looked off. Blinking rapidly, you tried to bring your eyes back into focus on Ben but it was like you were looking at him through a dirty window. And then he was gone.

“Where did he go?”

Turning to where you were facing, Klaus muttered under his breath before he shook his head and shrugged. You only caught the last few words. “No...I guess not..alright, alright, I'll ask.”

You rubbed your knuckles into your eyes as though that would somehow help. But it didn't.

“So...you don't see him anymore? But you did see him...right?” Klaus waved his arm, pointing between you and where Ben had been sitting,

Letting out a shuddering breath, you slowly had to force yourself to look back over at your patient still strapped to the stretcher. His eyebrows were pulled together as he openly stared at you, waiting for your reply.

“Who the hell are you?”

Klaus' eyes grew wide as his head bobbed back from your question. His dark-rimmed eyes closed to a hesitant squint as a grin grew. "Klaus, obviously. Better question is...who are you?”

**Parts 1 - 4 are available in the masterlist in my bio**

Taglist: @foreverfaeries @flower-two @getlostinyourparadise @w0nder-marie

This is the Diego list but I may do other TUA stuff, so please let me know if you JUST Diego from here on out so I don’t spam you. Thanks!! @actiongirl2005 @soul-of-a-traveller @blathena

#klaus hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #who are you

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queerhargreeves · 5 years ago

Note

request: luther beating the shit out of an enemy after they make fun of Diego’s stutter:)

Thank you so much for your patience...I hope this suffices!!

TW: Descriptions of violence and ableist language

The Hargreeves siblings were on yet another mission - this time they were working on getting another history museum robbery cleared up. Third robbery this month. It wasn’t the 13 year olds first rodeo, not even close. But every mission came with its own uncertainties. They couldn’t risk having any accidents. The kids learned that lesson the hard way at the last mission.

“Five, Ben, you two go upstairs. Allison and Klaus, go distract the guys in the back. Diego and I will take on the guys at the entrance. We’ll all meet up with Allison and Klaus when we’re done with our duties. Got it?” Luther quickly explained the plan as another loud bang crashed from above their heads. The leader felt the five pairs of eyes staring at him, eagerly awaiting his steady commands.

“Aye aye, cap!” Klaus saluted before running off with his sister in tow.

Five and Ben were already out of sight before Luther could put in another word, leaving Number One and Two to go through with their assignment.

“C’mon Two!” Luther exclaimed over the noise, motioning towards his left and already sprinting off. He heard an affirmative mumble from his brother and the sounds of his footsteps quickening in pace from behind.

The pair arrived at the entrance in less than 15 seconds. The two brothers were the most agile of their siblings as they were the ones who took their training the most seriously. They were always neck in neck both in their individual and group training. No matter how much work Diego put in, Luther was always just a tiny smudge ahead. Every single time. That never settled well with the even numbered boy and has caused a shift in their dynamic.

Before their numbers were heavily enforced, Diego and Luther were always found together. They played together, they studied together, they read comic books together. They were curious, rambunctious, rowdy young boys. Diego more so, but their energy always matched. The two wrestled constantly, tumbling around in the grass and sharp giggles erupting from their small bodies. Ben and Klaus were too soft for that kind of rough and tumble. Five simply had no interest in it. So that left the pair to play together and that was good enough for them.

They’d come back inside after playtime covered in grass stains and scratched up knees with matching grins on their face. Reginald changed that dynamic forever, using Luther’s superiority status as leverage to push Diego to reach an unattainable level of performance he found satisfactory. And it worked. Diego was pushed and he grew to hate both Reginald and Luther for it.

“Hey!” Luther shouted at the masked men, “I don’t think that belongs to you, sir.”

“Oh, we got the little Umbrella kids on us now?” The man taunted, waving a jewel necklace in his hand. “You aren’t that convincing boys. I’m not scared of ya, kid.”

“These little brats aren’t worth the breath, boss.” The taller man reported, smashing another glass case open and reaching to grab at the contents inside.

“D-do-don’t m-m,” Diego’s tongue started to jam in his throat and his breathing started to get more labored. He closed his eyes and his grip tightened on one of his knives as he pictured the word in his mind. “M-move.”

As soon as Diego finished the two robbers erupted in laughter. “Oh my fuckin god!” The alleged boss pointed a finger at the struggling boy. “This little runt can’t even fuckin talk right! Can ya believe this shit?”

“You really are scaring us with all this big talk, kid. Ya got us!” The other man teased, edging on his boss. He threw his head back in laughter and clutched his stomach. “God this is so good.”

Before Diego could throw the first knife Luther was already on the other side of the case, hand around the boss’ neck.

“Watch your tone, asshole!” He shoved the man against the wall, some of the paint cracking off in the process. He raised his fist in the air and threw the first punch. A deafeningly loud crunch of the man’s nose breaking followed quickly after.

Luther’s visioned started to blur as his mind seethed. He knew how much Diego berated himself for his disability. And if he didn’t do it to himself enough already, Reginald did it for him in tenfold. He wasn’t about to let some useless criminals add to the list of people who have hurt him for something he has no control over.

Diego watched as his brother threw the man by the neck at his accomplice on the other side. The two of them quickly crashed to the ground like dominos. The Academy leader wasted no time in walking up to the criminals and gave them both a hefty kick to the gut. Not strong enough to kill them but just enough so they would be feeling it for the next few months.

“Talk to my brother like that again and I promise I will do more than just break your face and ribs. Do you understand me?” He kneeled down and grabbed one of them by the jaw and forcing him to look at the blonde in the eye.

“Now apologize,” Luther demanded, voice as steady as a rock

The thief coughed out a mixture of blood and spit ad his eyes were glazed over. However, the shit eating grin came back.

“M-maybe your retarded brother should learn to talk before trying to be a superhero and save the day.” The masked man choked out in a tight voice however the comment was still laced with sarcasm.

A knife landed in his leg in less than a moment later, causing a heart-wrenching scream to escape his mouth. And another one landed in the other man's shoulder right after. Luther’s head whipped around at the Kraken who was still stood near the hallway. He could tell his brother was trying to get the words out as his jaw was tightly clenched. But he still held his head high, back straight and shoulders proudly back. His entire body exuded confidence and dominance even if he couldn’t necessarily assert it verbally. He knows how to move and perform with the most utmost accuracy, deprived of any fumbles or miscalculations that his throat and mouth seemed to constantly do.

“H-have fu-fun i-i-in jail, asshole.” Diego took a few long strides over to the culprits and forcibly ripped the knife from the man’s thigh.

“Nice shot, Di.” Luther gave Diego an encouraging nod and raised his fist to give a fist bump.

Diego chuckled softly and met his brother’s fist with his own, “Th-thanks. And f-for w-w-what what y-you said. Y-you didn’t h-have t-t-“ Diego cut himself off both because he was going to continue to have an even harder time getting words out after an incident like that. And also because there wasn’t enough time for him to fully express his gratitude as they were on a time crunch. But he hoped his brother got the memo.

“Of course, bro.” Luther said understandingly. “That’s what big brothers are for, dummy.” He stood up and ruffled his hair causing Diego to get even more flustered.

“Now let’s tie these shits up and meet up with the rest, yeah?”

Diego nodded, “On it, C-Cap.”

#me: hasnt written in over a month #summer school english requires 84930 essays but im almost done!!#i rly wanted to write so im glad i finally pushed myself to fufill a prompt!!#luther protection squad #luther hargreeves #luther hargreeves protection squad #diego hargreeves #The Umbrella Academy #tua #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfic #Allison Hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #five hargreeves

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nobody-wants-ice-cream · 5 years ago

Text

The Umbrella Academy in: The Triwizard Tournament

Chapter 5.1 Number Five’s Research

Thank you @seven-misfits and @tehmoonofficial for your amazing beta skills!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21340549/chapters/54740578#workskin

Five couldn’t sleep after his encounter with Reginald. It had been 45 years since he had been to private training, but seeing the restraints again had brought back the scared thirteen-year-old he thought the apocalypse had trained out of him.

Reginald used to tie him in any sort of restraint, like chains or a straightjacket, to an electric chair. If Five couldn’t jump out, he would be electrocuted. It had taken thirty years of drunken conversations with Dolores to finally admit that he and his siblings were abused as children. Being back in that room was terrifying in a way Five had forgotten. Its sudden reintroduction was a blast of ice being poured down his back.

Instead of sleeping, Five decided to look up a charm to brew coffee- which ended up being Calida Capulus while pointing his wand at a mug with coffee grains in hot water- and then set to work reviewing documents in Reginald’s office. That coffee Allison got him would prove to be very useful.

Speaking of Allison, her rumor would work in his favor. Reginald couldn’t touch them. More importantly, if Five was caught, then he couldn’t be punished with individual training. He could browse Reginald’s files enough to paint a pretty decent picture of what their lives were like in this universe.

Just after they turned twelve, the seven of them became superheroes. Vanya and Ben were their heavy hitters. One particular note disturbed Five. “When Number Seven’s powers become too much to contain, I will have to stun her and put her in the isolation chamber. Her powers are essential,” read the disturbing red journal from their toddler years.

According to 400 Offensive Spells, “The stunning spell should not be used on subjects under 100 pounds or 45 killograms as the magic will overwhelm the castee and may cause permanent damage to the nervous system or magical core”. Vanya was placed under this spell as a very young child over and over again. Five had a small idea that Vanya’s powers prevented the damage from being permanent. He didn’t know how that would be possible, but that irrational hope stopped him from murdering Reginald in cold blood.

The Commission made him a killer, but he never enjoyed his work. However, after hearing the atrocities Reginald committed on his siblings, he was willing to make an exception. Stunning Vanya was only the tip of the iceberg. The things done to himself and to the version of himself native to this universe were barely a blip in his anger.

Five skipped around to his section. The book said that this Five’s interest in time travel was a fleeting interest that went away when Reginald brought him books on the runes to create a time-turner. When Five looked up what a time-turner was, he was disappointed in his other self. A device that takes you back or forward a few hours was a party trick compared to what he had the potential to do. At least this version of himself didn’t get himself stuck in the apocalypse. That would have been difficult.

If I time traveled now would I end up appearing here in this universe or would I be stuck in the future in mine? Five mused while moving around some of the papers that surrounded him.

That was the last bit of semi-coherent thought Five had. He passed out surrounded by books and papers. Specifically, blueprints for a magically expanded Minerva Aircraft, complete with six dorms and a master bedroom.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

“Five. Five. Five. Wake up. Five, wake up. Five, you can’t keep doing this, man." It was Luther being his personal alarm clock again.

“Mu, wus goin on? Five more mins, Luth,” Five tried while rolling over.

“Nope! Get up.” Luther pulled Five up and managed to get him sitting up while slumped against Reginald’s desk.

“Five, how many times have you fallen asleep here? It’s been months, what more do you possibly have to find?” Luther asked. Five had spent his nights in August and September in Reginald’s study reading his notes and pursuing magazines and newspapers that mentioned the Umbrella Academy in any way.

“When was the last time you slept in your bed, Five. This isn’t healthy." Luther snapped his fingers in front of Five’s face, “Hey! Focus.”

Five opened his eyes again. He had been up until three in the morning due to a teen magazine bender. Those vapid things were somewhat addictive. Not that he would admit it to anyone.

“I need to know what’s going on.” Five did feel lethargic. He worked and worked until he passed out trying to figure out this timeline. If they wanted to stay off the Commission’s radar, they needed to keep the timeline as consistent as possible. Five struggled to keep his head upright.

“Hey, did you know the seven of us are the only ones Dad adopted? Everybody else is a boarding student.” Five shared. He was starting to feel more alert. He reached for his mug and the Bunsen burner he used to heat up his coffee water.

“We have thirty minutes before breakfast. You should clean yourself up,” Luther said before leaving the room.

Five scowled. Luther didn’t have to get him up this early. Five decided that teleporting to the bathroom was a bad idea this early in the morning and decided to walk so he could find an unoccupied one. He stared at the floor and shuffled his feet like a pissed off thirteen year-old the whole time. At least they weren’t required to stick to one bathroom like in his youth.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

“The elusive old man finally decides to join us! How was your bender? Any wild stories? Amputee hookers? Or were you holed up in Dad’s office the whole time?” Klaus greeted. His bright smile and teasing words were grating. Five scowled at him and picked up the carafe of coffee that Mom had taken to leaving at their table.

“Well, Klaus. I actually had a wild time. You know teleporting a girl or three in the room wasn’t too difficult,” Five snarked back. Five wasn’t actually interested in the whole sex thing, but Klaus didn’t know that. In fact, nobody except Dolores knew that the idea repulsed him. Besides, Five had a feeling that telling his siblings that he had been up all night reading J-14 and Seventeen would lead to more judgement that he just wasn’t prepared to deal with.

“Did you actually?” Luther looked green in the face. He put down his knife and fork and gave Five his full attention.

Five raised his eyebrows and took a sip of coffee. He would neither confirm nor deny.

“Right, um, moving on. You missed Pogo announcing that we were to report to the foyer for an announcement. One through Twelve. It’s supposed to be super important,” Allison attempted.

“Who cares? Five, did you-” Ben was cut off by Mom announcing that it was 7:53 A.M.

“We better go and see what the old man wants.” Five teleported out of the room and into the foyer.

He was met with Number Ten who looked up from her book in surprise when Five teleported into the room.

“Hey, Five. I still get surprised when you do that. Any ideas for what the Headmaster wants to talk about?” Ten must have left breakfast early, “Thirteen and Fourteen were pretty pissed that they aren’t included in whatever this is.”

“I don-”

“You know, he hasn’t really talked to his seven science experiments in a while. Did you guys do something? Maybe Three heard a little rumor?” Ten was starting to piss him off. Her tone was condescending in a way he threw people’s heads through walls for.

“Se-” He was cut off by everyone else entering the room. He was going to question the nickname ‘seven science experiments.’ As if she had the right to call them that!

“Hey Five, hey Ten,” Number Eleven greeted. Eleven was tall, thin, and very good looking. They were extremely androgynous, hence the neutral pronoun. They wore their uniform with the sort of confidence that Five had only seen in himself, Hazel, or Cha Cha. For a split second, Five wondered if Eleven had ever killed anybody, but then he saw Eleven had uncalloused, delicate hands. Those were not the hands of an assassin.

“Do you think something went wrong? Maybe the rumor-” Allison whispered. Five gestured towards Ten with pointed expression so Allison would shut up.

Just as an awkward silence was draping itself around the room, Sir Reginald Hargreeves walked in. He stalked around the room and did not look at Five or any of his siblings.

“The Triwizard tournament is a grand and noble tradition that has lasted throughout the ages, until modern history. You students are amongst the lucky few with the honor and the privilege of submitting your names to the Goblet of Fire. Do not disappoint me. Report back to breakfast for your schedules!” Classic Reginald Hargreeves. Short, simple, and as cold as possible.

Immediately, whispers broke out amongst the strangers. Excited curiosity and nerves filled the room. Five hoped that it wouldn’t be him. He had proven himself already. Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, and Twelve filed back into the kitchen. Diego left with them.

Luther addressed the group with, “We should really plan-”

“Haven’t we planned enough?” Klaus clapped Luther on the shoulder and flounced after Diego.

“Why is it still a Triwizard tournament if we’re joining as the fourth school?” Ben mused behind him.

“Well,” Vanya piped up to his left, “Quadwizard tournament sounds pretty stupid.”

“It sounds like lazy writing to me,” Allison twirled her dark hair around her index finger, “Like some poor marketing executive or some bad author didn’t want to come up with a better name.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Several weeks later, the Academy was buzzing in unrelenting energy and unmitigated chaos as numbers One through Twelve packed their belongings in the single, large suitcase they had each been allowed to bring.

“Ben! Have you seen my left- never mind!” said Allison.

“Ow! Sorry, Seven,” said an unknown person. The voice was female, so could have been Eight, Ten, or Twelve. Or possibly Eleven. Five didn’t know what they looked or sounded like today yet.

Diego could be heard sneering, “Watch, where you’re going, Twelve.”

Five calmly packed the basics. The Commission taught him well. It took him two minutes to pack some uniforms, toiletries, and his school supplies. The same could not be said for the others who were frantically putting things in their suitcases. The Minerva would have dorms once they landed, but there was no point in bringing anything to decorate with. Ben would probably bring enough to make the space feel normal.

They were going to be sharing rooms in number order. One and Two, etc. Five took a moment to feel bad for Vanya, who would be sharing with Number Eight.

Then a thought occurred to Five. Five had spent months researching how to assimilate into this universe. Why not try to go home?

As soon as it was there, the thought was gone. This was home. His siblings were here. Right? Five felt disoriented. His thoughts moved through his brain like jello. Then he simply stopped thinking about it.

What was he doing? Packing for the tournament! According to Ben and Luther, this would be a dangerous ordeal. The goblet would pick the best candidate. If anyone was going to be picked, it would have to be him for his siblings’ sake. He was the oldest and most experienced.

Then he remembered that he had already proven himself. So why did he feel the overwhelming desire to win this tournament?

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

On the morning of October 30, 1994, twelve children and their Dad/Headmaster boarded the Minerva Aircraft on their way from The Umbrella Academy to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The plane ride was almost completely silent. There was still chatter, as Reginald was piloting the Minerva.

Allison and Five were poring over a wizarding teen magazine called Witch Weekly, which was distributed worldwide, while speaking in low voices that couldn’t be heard over the plane’s engine.

“Since when are you the heartthrob?” Allison poked him and then the picture of him surrounded by tiny hearts.

“I don’t know! That’s weird right? I guess in this universe I didn’t disappear when I was thirteen and now people think I’m attractive or something? I don’t get it. Who was the,” Five put up air quotes, “‘heartthrob’ in our universe?”

“Klaus and Luther had pretty strong followings,” Allison paused to think, “When we were fifteen, Ben had some sort of cult? And I was the only girl so...yeah. Oh, and Diego was popular towards the end, but no one could figure out why.”

Klaus was looking at the magazine in front of Allison and Five with interest. He raised his eyebrow at Five and gave a small wave before going back to his drawing.

Eight, Nine, and Twelve were playing a card game a few rows above them. They were oblivious, unlike Ten and Eleven, who were talking in hushed voices and looking at Allison every now and then. Eleven’s hair was a bright shade of electric blue today. They had opted for lithe, feminine curves and the female uniform, but a very close cropped pixie cut. Five barely recognized them. Ten was attempting to ask Eleven to grow their hair longer so she could braid it.

Luther was watching this argument with an apathetic look on his face, while Diego watched with interest. Maybe he thinks it will turn into a fight or something?

Ben was completely oblivious to all of this and kept his nose stuck in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

“Please, Eleven! It will look really good,” Ten pleaded.

“For the last time, no. Piss off, Ten.”

“Fine. Sorry. Eight! Can you deal me in?” Ten demanded.

“Yeah, sure,” Eight started shuffling her cards again.

Diego looked somewhat disappointed at the de escalation and went back to sharpening his knives.

“Hey, Three, Five! Can I borrow your Daily Prophet?” Eleven asked from across the aisle.

Since they had already gone through all of their copies of that newspaper, Five said, “Sure,” and handed them the October 29th copy. It was the most recent thing in the pile.

The rest of the plane ride passed like that. Eventually, Diego borrowed their magazines as well once he ran out of knives to sharpen.

The Minerva flew on through the clear sky.

#The Umbrella Academy #harry potter and the goblet of fire #after three months this fic is back

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peachywise · 6 years ago

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nullify part 5

an umbrella academy fanfiction // klaus hargreeves x reader

- part v: the disrupting, devilish, and demanding deal || part i ⋆ part ii ⋆ part iii ⋆ part iv ⋆ part vi ⋆ more parts to be released

- synopsis: Finally, the truth of the Hargreeves story comes out. It's a little hard to believe, but what's even worse is what exactly they need your help for. Vanya, you're happy to deal with, but Klaus? Looks like you two are going to be spending a great deal of time together as well.

- notes: hello oh gosh okay i am sorry this hiatus was so long but i am 100% done all my exams so i am officially back at it and writing actively. expect next chapter out soon and it will be a good ol funny fluff klaus heavy chapter okay i love you all i'm sorry, adios

link on ao3

____________________________

“Do you want to put your pants back on?”

“No,” Klaus smiled, flopping down next to you on the couch and wrapping his arm tightly around your shoulders.

“Then off you go,” you smiled politely back. He gave you a sort of quirked, curious look, but you quickly shoved him off on to the floor before he could figure out your intentions. “I came here to get answers, not to get diseased.”

Klaus mock gasped, while Luther tried to suppress his half-snort laugh from behind his rather large hand. Klaus just crawled halfway across the floor to where he had dropped his pants and slipped them back on— struggling a bit because wow was that leather tight— mumbling incoherently under his breath.

“So, who’s going to be the one to tell me why exactly I’m here?” You questioned, pulling your legs up and crossing them under you, looking from Klaus, to Luther, and then at Five. All three looked at each other as if they hadn’t exactly thought this far ahead. Lovely. Five sighed as he sat on the chair across from you and leaned slightly forward, clasping his hands together as a serious look befell his face.

“I guess I’ll start at the beginning. Just hold off on any questions until the end, it might be a bit hard for you to believe.”

You couldn’t hold back your laugh as you leaned back comfortably. “We were all born to mothers who hadn’t really been pregnant and have powers because of it. You’re afraid your story will be too much for my mind to comprehend? Have a little faith in me.”

Five raised an eyebrow, and Klaus moved back to sit beside you once his pants were properly back on. “Oh, you say that now.” Klaus smiled, giddy in his fidgety excitement, “but personally, I can’t wait to see your reaction.”

“Klaus,” Luther grumbled in an almost warning gesture. Klaus ignored him.

Jesus, you didn’t have time for this.

“For fuck’s sakes, will one of you just spit it out already!”

A moment of silence followed your outcry, but then rather unceremoniously, Five stated point-blank, “we’re from the future and traveled back in time to stop the apocalypse from happening.”

And then, like the clever little slice you are, you allowed yourself a moment of silence as well. You couldn’t even hear your breath, a pin drop, a mouse scurrying across the house, yadda yadda and all those fun clichés.

“You in there?” Klaus asked. He even knocked you on the head lightly, murmuring, “I think you broke the poor thing.”

You swatted his hand away, and he reared it back into his chest, cradling it with the look of a hurt puppy. “I’m not broken,” you grumbled, sitting up a bit as you turned your attention back to Five. “I’m just wondering what you guys take me for. I’m not gullible. Yeah, maybe I believed at one-point Santa existed and was my fourth-grade teacher in disguise, but this? That sounds like a bad plot to a shitty TV show.”

Klaus moved to sit next to Five, covering the kid's ears as he did. “Shh, he was never around long enough for us to tell him the truth about Santa.” You just rolled your eyes as Five simultaneously jerked away so fast, throwing a fast punch to Klaus’s gut that had him doubled over groaning in a second flat. His attention turned back to you just as fast.

“This isn’t a joke. When I disappeared all those years ago, I found a way to travel through time but I got stuck there. What I found was nothing— no civilization, no us, no you. Everything was in ruins. It took me many years, but I found my way back to stop the apocalypse from happening.” At that, he exchanged an odd look with both Klaus and Luther. Klaus looked more sympathetic at that, his expression turning more serious in those moments. Luther meanwhile just looked uncomfortable and a little shutoff, his arms crossed so tightly against his chest that you wondered if those jacket sleeves would rip.

“And this apocalypse, when is it supposed to happen exactly?” you asked, deciding to play into whatever they were pulling. You should have known they were all insane. You’d expected it of Klaus, but man, were all of them this disillusioned? “Let me guess. Big meteors are supposed to rain down and destroy us like they did the dinosaurs? Oh! Better yet, all these fossilized dinosaurs are going to come back to life and eat us all!”

“Someone has an active imagination,” Klaus commented, a gleeful look crossing his face, but Five’s own cynical impatience cut both of you down. “No,” he sneered, standing up in what you assumed was his way of seeming more intimidating or serious. It was just hard to take it that way when he didn’t even reach five feet. “But if you stop talking long enough for me to tell you the story, maybe you would simultaneously stop proving your idiocy and get the answers you want.”

Well, then.

“Carry on.”

“So, you’re telling me all of you traveled back to the past— my present—three months ago after your sister almost ended the world?”

“Technically she did, we just popped right on out before we all rather disastrously perished,” Klaus interjected, speaking for the first time since Five finished relaying his tall tale of all that had happened. Luther simply groaned, tightening his crossed arms even more.

Five ignored them both completely. “In layman’s terms, yes, that’s what happened.”

Now, you were no doubt impressed by his ability to tell stories. It was convincing, you’d give him that, but you just weren’t positive it was true. If you sat there and told him you believed him, for one, you’d look like an utter idiot if they turned out they were lying. It would have had to have been an intricate joke on their part, but you’d be damned if it was going to be played on you. No. You needed to make sure that what he said was real. And there was only one plausible way to do it.

“I have questions. If you even pause in answering them, I’ll kick your ass for lying to me. Got it?”

Five nodded. Klaus just looked amused and leaned forward like he was ready to watch an entertaining game.

“If they aren’t going to be convinced, why are we even bothering telling them? This is a waste of time and energy.” Diego’s voice sounded behind you, causing you to jump a bit and exclaim softly, “Jesus Christ.” When the fuck did he get there? You hadn’t even heard him.

Twisting around and resting your arms on the back of the too-plush, white leather couch, you questioned, “are you sure all you can do is throw knives? Maybe you’re a cat shifter or something, you’re so sneaky. Here, let me test to see if you have nine lives— pass me one of your knives,” you smirked snidely, an impish imitation of the scowl he offered you back. Diego clearly wasn’t amused. “Listen to me, you—”

“Both of you, shut up,” Five snapped, his patience clearly wearing thinner by the second. It looked like the Fisher-Price poster boy might explode. A pity, but hey, you could live with it. “Why must you ruin the fun? I wanted to see the show,” Klaus sighed, resting his hand on the side of his face. You threw a pillow at him, and he caught it with a wink in your direction.

Standing up from your seat, noting with jealously how your butt hadn’t fallen asleep like it did on your thrift store found shit couch, you crossed your arms and stared down at the boy. Back to business.

“Whose apartment is this?”

“Allison’s. It’s a second one she barely uses, so it’s likely we’ll go relatively undetected,” Luther replied.

Made sense. “What year did you guys come from?”

“2019,” Five replied in a bored manner.

Now that had you squinting your eyes a bit. It was 2015 now, so allegedly you could ask anything about the future.

“Did Jon Snow really die in the season five finale of Game of Thrones?”

Five tilted his head slightly in confusion, and Diego just looked annoyed as he threw his hands up and begun pacing. Klaus snorted. But surprisingly, Luther was the one to answer the question, shifting uncomfortably as his eyes darted to the ceiling, “uhm, no. He’s alive.”

His siblings gave him a questioning look, but you didn’t care which one of them actually knew. You were just thinking thank fuck he was alive. Well. Thank fuck if the Hargreeves were telling the truth and were from the future. Now you were really hoping they were.

“Who won the presidential election?”

Diego was the one to reply this time, a deeper bitterness attached to his tone than the one directed at you earlier. “Donald Trump,”

Never mind. You hoped they were filthy, humorless liars.

Your face must have displayed your severe disappointment and revolt, as Klaus speedily added, “I would offer words of comfort, but even I can’t find the silver lining in it,” giving a small shudder as he said it.

“Well if you’re done with twenty questions, can I finally get to the part to where you come in, or would you rather waste my time for a while longer?”

You felt a twitch at the corner of your eye at Five’s abrasiveness, but you offered a sweet smile over it. “As a matter of fact, I would rather waste your time longer. Thanks.”

Was he getting red in the face? Ooo, delightful.

Diego apparently didn’t see the joy in it. He stomped over to you in his little combat boots and all, getting directly in your face. “You can nullify powers, and we have a sister who’s having trouble controlling hers, and no longer wants to try. Either you help, or get out and forget about all this."

You held your breath for a moment, eyeing him down in what you were sure was some unspoken fight for dominance. At least he was blunt about something both Klaus and Five had been leading up to. You could respect that. However, the situation on the other hand? It was a little confusing. If Vanya did actually have powers— and after having read her book, you were surprised in the least to hear of them— and was the cause for the end of the world, what could be done to really control them? You could stop it from happening maybe, granted you had no idea how much pressure your force field could take in stopping her from using them, but wasn’t that just a momentary fix?

“She nearly put an end to the whole world, or rather, she did, but you all just escaped it. What exactly do you need me for? You expect her to do it again or something? Where even is she?”

Luther suddenly pulled Diego back, taking his place in front of you as a voice for the collective of them. “She’s in one of the rooms with Allison now, but all you need to understand is we’ve been here for three months. For the first month, Vanya couldn’t even look at us. She wouldn’t speak. She was in a catatonic state. In the second month, we tried to understand the extent of her powers to figure out how to prevent another apocalypse from happening, but every time she tried to use them, she couldn’t control them. Now she won’t even try, but they’re still there. She’s a ticking time bomb.”

A small unsettled flare lit in your stomach. “She’s also your sister. Don’t talk about her like she’s just a problem to fix. From the story Five told, you guys locking her up and essentially ignoring her for her whole life was the catalyst for this whole thing. Yeah, I get it. She almost ended the world, and what she did to Allison was fucked up. I’m not condoning that. But if you’re actually going to help her now, then do it for her. Actually, be there for her. Don’t pin me— a stranger— on her to take the problem off your fucking hands.”

You had been in enough foster and group homes to understand the loneliness that often came with them. But it was one thing to be ignored, and another to be acknowledged as simply not good enough. Vanya’s book had been very telling, about all their lives and not just hers. Each Hargreeves sibling had been fucked over by their mad father, and undoubtedly you felt empathy and sympathy for each of their situations and not just hers. Though your life had its own tragedies at the hand of your powers and other’s opinion of them, you had still spent most of the time you could avoiding every being detected by Reginald at all, fearing being included in his little makeshift family. You had known the love of a father before. They clearly hadn’t. Growing up, the Academy thing left a sour taste in your mouth. It wasn’t until you had read Vanya’s book that you finally understood why.

Luther blinked at you in surprise, and you noted a bob in his throat as he swallowed a little nervously. He looked a bit cross like he might actually dare to argue back, but Klaus cut him off before he could, moving to stand beside him.

His wide eyes seemed to reflect a serious outlook, his face a little pale. “We all made mistakes, we know that,” he started off with, and you were once again shocked by the sincerity he seemed to be able to display. Your breathing was a bit ragged after getting so aggravated in your little monologue, and Klaus grabbed your hands and led you back to the couch as if calming an upset child. Ass face. Sitting across from you on to ottoman, he continued, “we all sat there pinning blame on one another when really, it was dear old dad who ruined us all. I want to help. We all want to help.” he squeezed your hands, before finally releasing them. “But we need you as well. Vanya needs to feel like she’s in a controlled environment. If she practices around you and things get out of hand, hopefully, you can turn it off before things go boom again.”

Leaning back, you sank down into the cushions and covered your face with your hand, the light not helping your now growing headache. You took a deep breath in and then out. “Okay. Okay, I’ll help,” you relented, dropping your hand to peer at Klaus’s hopeful little smile. You quickly shifted your gaze back to Five, who had been silent during the entire exchange, simply watching with a contemplative eye. “So, what’s the plan then? I just come over sometimes and stand guard or something while she does her thing?”

Five picked up a coffee mug of the table and took a sip, putting it back down as he muttered, “you ask a lot of questions. But no. We want to be as safe as possible, so the plan would be for you to move in here in case anything was to happen.”

You were quiet for a moment. Maybe a little too quiet, since Five looked a little surprised by your lack of response, which was odd, since you weren’t sure what he was expecting your reaction to be.

“You should stick to brooding. Humour is not your strong suit. Seriously, what’s the plan?”

“I’m not joking. That is the plan.”

Hmm.

Getting up from the couch, you picked up your tote bag, and then the broken clock which had still been sitting on the floor. You slipped it into the bag. Pulling down your sunglasses, you turned towards the group and gave a lazy salute, stating, “Well, it’s been real guys. I’ll be sure to send you a Christmas card.”

Klaus shot up so suddenly you almost got whiplash, and ran to the door to pin himself in front of it like a scraggly leather clad barrier. “Whoa, whoa, hold on a second,” he pleading with a frantic little laugh, “be reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” You huffed at the shithead, no trace of such amusement in your voice. “You want me to just drop my whole life to live with a bunch of batshit insane grown up super babies and be at your every beck and call? Hell no. I have two jobs. I have an apartment I need to pay for!”

Klaus muttered back awkwardly, “technically you’re also a batshit insane grown up super baby,” but before you could reach back into your bag for the clock to chuck at his head, Five’s hand gripped your wrist in a tight grasp.

“Will you calm down? If you don’t want to move in here, then Vanya can move into your apartment with you,” Five snapped, releasing his grasp as Klaus started to move back towards you like an inquisitive animal unsure if the being in front of it was a predator or not.

You scrunched your brows together. “Seriously? I told you guys she needs her family. Having her live with me isn’t going to do much good. Look, I am fine coming over once and a while to help out, I really am, but I can’t just drop my whole life. You guys aren’t going to be here forever, and what happens when you guys leave? I have to go back to something.”

Five took a step back, contemplating this as you spoke. Diego took the quiet opportunity to intervene with his own point of view, adding, “they’re right. This whole plan was bound to fail anyway. We can think of something else.”

You were about to agree with him, but before you could, Klaus interjected with a very loud, “wait, I have an idea!”

Luther stated, “well that’s a first,” and you decided your clock’s next target was going to be his big rude head instead.

“Vanya will live with you, but all of us can still visit you and stay with her when you’re at work or what not.” Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea, you thought. But still, she should be around them more so than around you. Part of fixing this whole situation was fixing their family relationship too. Klaus seemed to almost read your mind, albeit, a little misconstrued, as he added, “better yet, I’ll move in too! It’ll be fun, we can all paint each other’s nails and braid each other’s hair—

“Fuck no.”

Klaus frowned, grabbing your shoulders and giving your tense self a little shake. “Oh, come on. I thought we were getting along?”

You deadpanned, “I’m a terrific actor.”

Granted, his plan did have some merit, but you loved having your own space. Your apartment wasn’t even that big anyway. You had your room, a pull-out bed in your crappy makeshift spare room, and then that uncomfortable couch. You wouldn’t subject anyone to that no matter what.

“We’ll pay you if you agree,” Five interrupted your thoughts, and suddenly, you wondered why you had ever thought it had been a bad idea at all.

“Well in that case, hello roomie,” you smiled at Klaus, as his mouth popped open in slight shock. Ignoring him, you dropped your bag on the floor and turned back to the rest of the family.

“Well, let me meet Vanya. We should probably check to see if my force field can even keep her powers at bay in the first place. Or if she’s even comfortable moving in with me.” Lowering your sunglasses back down, you looked them all in the eyes and said, “I, of course, will be paid for my services no matter the outcome.”

Klaus uttered a small, but very audible, awe of, “they’re magnificent, aren’t they?”

#tua #tua fanfic #tua fanfiction #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfiction #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #five hargreeves #luther hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves reader insert #klaus hargreeves fanfic #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #klaus hargreeves imagine

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hamelin-born · 6 years ago

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Umbrella Academy/FFXV Ficbit

@charlottedabookworm

The Umbrella Academy/FFXV ficbit that I’ve been promising myself that I’d write for. A while. As originally brainstormed into existence on the FFXV Story Discourse. Set post-season one Umbrella Academy, and pre-canon FFXV, and featuring dfab trans!Ardyn who took advantage of Bethista’s forays into researching dimensional barriers to go strolling through alternate dimensions for a lark.

Un-beta’d and, for the most part, un-edited.

Coming Home

“I”, the individual who is somehow, incredibly, Klaus’s birth-parent says, “Am not a kind man.”

Sir Reginald Hargreeves makes a sound. Sir Reginald is also currently pinned against the far wall by an individual force, arms and legs glued to his sides by bonds of coruscating crimson light. The be-hatted man (and really, Klaus manages to spare a half-hysterical moment to think, it is an awesome hat) doesn’t bother to acknowledge dad’s indignant, muffled protest - his eye (golden, golden as coins on a dark night, yellow as venom, sharp as envy) are fixed on Klaus to the exclusion of all else.

“But.” He says softly, and his voice - “I will never lie to you.”

And the noise in Klaus’s head - stills, for the briefest of moments.

“I have frightened you. I apologize.”

(The first Klaus had known of the disturbance was the noise - the house had shuddered on its moorings, and his head had jerked upright, exchanging bewildered glances with his siblings. He didn’t remember - nothing like this had happened the first time around, not that he could recall, and by the expressions on their faces, they’d come to the same conclusion.

And then the man had appeared in the door.

A black overcoat patterned in silver over a black vest and white undershirt, lace at his cuffs, a scarf around his neck, and that hat - and the eyes. Bright, almost inhuman gold as they skimmed across the contents of the dining hall before fixing unerringly on Sir Reginald.

Who obviously knew him if the expression on his face was any judge. “You - “

Dad was half-way out of his chair when the stranger had flicked two fingers at him as if knocking a particularly irritating pest to one side, and dad had.

Dad had.

Dad had gone flying across the room before slamming against the wall, and Luther had yelled and Five had blinked backwards and a noise had escaped Klaus’s own throat and the man had ignored them all as he stalked forward until he and Reginald were eye to eye and then he’d opened his mouth to speak and he said

He’d said.

He.

“You stole my son.” And the noise in the room had vanished in an instant and something inside of Klaus had gone still as dad hadn’t denied it.

Had, in fact, displayed an admirable lack of self-awareness as he struggled to look down his nose at the stranger and insist that ‘the boy’ had potential and that he wouldn’t have manifested any of it if the stranger had been allowed to keep him, that said stranger hadn’t accepted his perfectly generous offer to recompense him for ‘the boy’, that it was really for the best, that it was for the greater good -

“You stole my SON!” The stranger had hissed, and there was something - there was something -

“Number Four, despite his obvious defects has potential and I will not allow you to - “ And Klaus felt himself go numb as he stared, stared, stared -

“You kidnapped my son, and you gave him a number instead of a name.” The man drawled, a smile - no that wasn’t a smile, it was something else, it was a promise - spread across his face. “Such irony. Now, be quiet, will you.” And the glowing energy had risen and spread across dad’s mouth, had bound him hand and foot and left him pinned to the wall -

And then the stranger had turned, and looked directly at Klaus.)

“I carried you and bore you - and it was something of a surprise a surprise to find myself pregnant and giving birth in the course of half an hour. Not the least because I had reasonable cause to believe myself sterile. You were - something I had long since given up hope of wanting.”

“And then they placed you in my arms.” The stranger says softly, and he is looking at Klaus. Looking at him like he matters. Like Klaus is - is the only person in the room, like he’s actually taking his wants and desires and him into account.

“They put you in my arms, and I looked into your eyes, and I loved you.” There is something wistful, something half-disbelieving in his tone, and Klaus.

Klaus believes him.

(He’s been loved and known himself to be loved exactly once in his life. His siblings care for him, but they’re family, they’re supposed to care - but love? Only Dave ever loved him. Until now.)

“He stole you from me.” The stranger states simply. “And I have spent years trying to find you. It was not until something disturbed the fabric of time and space that I was able to cross worlds once more - back to this world, to you.”

Well, Klaus thinks dizzily, that explains why this man hadn’t shown up the first time around.

“Are you saying that you’re an alien?” It’s Five - the oldest and the quickest of them all who asks the question, voice sharp and probing - but not flagrantly disbelieving, so it. It. Might actually be real?

“Certainly not.” The man sniffs, not looking away from Klaus. “I’m simply from a different dimension, and happened to be taking a stroll on this planet when I found myself unexpectedly pregnant. I was summarily - and involuntarily - summoned back to my birth dimension shortly after this piece of filth stole my son from me, and I have spent - a considerable amount of time and resources finding my way here once more.”

“Would you like to come back with me?”

And Klaus. Klaus is.

“I see dead people.” Klaus blurts out.

“So have several individuals in my extended family.” The stranger responds, not batting an eye.

“I’m an addict.”

“As am I, although I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol in quite some time. I find that my tastes have mellowed as I age - I much prefer verbal repartee these days to losing myself in the comforting embrace of mild-altering substances.”

“I - “ Klaus stares. No one’s ever, ever - “What. What’s your name?”

The expression on the stranger’s face cracks ever so slightly. “Ardyn Lucis Caelum. And, may I ask - what is yours?”

“Klaus.” Klaus licks his lips.

“And how old are you, Klaus?”

“Thirteen.” The response is automatic. The stranger sighs.

“You are not.” Ardyn responds, voice brooking no opposition. “Please, don’t do me the discourtesy of lying to my face. I am - something of an expert in these things. Your age?”

“…thirty.” Klaus whispers.

The stranger - Ardyn - nods.

Nothing in his body language or expression changes.

He still looks at Klaus with tightly controlled longing. There is still an open softness in his gaze as he stares at him, as if attempting to memorize his face, his words, his bearing.

He still.

Wants Klaus.

“Would you like to come home with me?” Ardyn repeats himself softly, still holding himself rigidly in place. “I would care for you, to the extent that you allow me. I warn you, I am - not kind. I have done terrible, terrible things. But I love you, and I would try. I want very much to try. I will never lie to you. I will never hurt you. I will never cage you. I will never, and I swear this, I will never cast you aside.”

“I - “ Klaus licks his lips. He doesn’t. This is. He hasn’t - “I’m a fucking druggie in the body of a kid. I’m rude and disrespectful, and why would you want me?”

“Because I love you, and because I want to be family. If you would permit it.” And there Ardyn goes again, giving him the choice.

“Why?” Klaus bursts out, glaring up at him. “It can’t be that fucking simple - people don’t have to love people just because they’re family - “

“I choose to love you.” Ardyn interrupts, eyes bright and head held high. “I choose to love you, and I choose to want you.”

“I.” The seance stares. “How do I. What guarantee do I have that.” That you won’t change your mind. That you’ll still want me, even after you know what I’m like. That this is real.

A thin, almost bitter smile crosses Ardyn’s lips. “Some time ago,” the man says softly. “My brother attempted to kill me. My birth-and-blood brother killed my fiancee in front of me, and then ran be through with an exceptionally large sword. I hate him more than you are capable of imagining.” He sighs. “And yet I love him still.” Ardyn’s voice is tired.

And Klaus. Klaus gets that.

“I will not stop loving you, Klaus.” Ardyn tells him softly.

And Klaus.

He shouldn’t. This is too good to be true. What about the timeline? But.

But.

“My brothers and sisters?” Klaus manages. He wants. He wants to.

“Do you care for them?” Ardyn asks him bluntly.

Klaus glances around. At Allison, staring at him. At Luthor’s dumbstruck expression. Five’s calculation, Diego’s fierce smirk, Ben’s mouthing ‘go for it’ at him, Vanya’s teary grin - “Y-ees.” He responds slowly.

Because what can you depend on in this world, if not family?

“Then they are my sons and daughters as well, and I love them.” Ardyn responds simply, and just like that Klaus can tell that he means it. For the first time since this conversation begins, his gaze lifts from Klaus’s face and turns to the other members of the Umbrella Academy. “Would you like to come with me?” He asks them, plainly and bluntly. “I can promise to care for you until my dying day, and provide for your needs - physical and otherwise - as I am a man of some property in my own right.”

Klaus barely hears the conversation that follows. Five arguing that this is their best bet to change the timeline, an unexpected variable that they would be fools to dismiss, Ben’s simple declaring that if Klaus is going, he is going, Diego’s fierce seconding of Ben’s opinion, the hope in Vanya’s voice as she cautiously agrees, staring at Ardyn as if she has never expected anyone like him could exist, Allison exchanging a glance with Luthor before both of them nod slowly and.

And.

And Ardyn holds out his arms, and Klaus.

Klaus steps forward, and lets himself fall into his father’s open embrace.

“Yes.” He lets himself whimper, whisper, hope. “Yes.”

#ffxv #the umbrella academy #my fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fusion

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