Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

November 10, 2002

In one world, Five Hargreeves gets fed up with his father and his father’s inane rules. He storms out the front door and jumps to a future where he spends the next four decades living with smoke and ash, isolation and death.

In another world, Reginald Hargreeves has plans for Number Five. In that world, Reginald appeases him, at least temporarily. The day that follows finds Five on the floor of his father’s office, a monocle sitting over his left eye, gasping through unbidden tears.

“How do we stop it?” he asks.

Reginald stares down at his son. “You will be my scalpel.”

And, like the proverbial road not taken, it makes all the difference.

(Or, depending on your perspective, hardly any difference at all.)

March 26, 2019

The cab ride was somehow endlessly long and far too short.

Ben hadn’t been back to the Academy since The Mission. Yes, it warranted the capital letters, thank you very much.

The Mission had marked two major events.

First, it was Five’s longest return from wherever Reginald was sending him off to. They hadn’t seen him for more than a weekend in over a year; they wouldn’t see him for more than a day at a time after.

Second, Ben had come so close to death he could practically smell the afterlife (freshly treaded dirt on a trail, leaves on a spring day, and a hint of daisies – which was weird because Ben didn’t think he’d actually smelled daisies before). If Five hadn’t been there to knock him out, the Horror would have ripped him apart from the inside. Ben had woken up a week later in the infirmary knowing without a doubt that if he ever used his powers again it would be the end of him. When he’d explained that to Reginald – that he didn’t want to use his powers anymore, that he was sure he would die if he did – the old man gave him a speech about overcoming fear after failure for the betterment of humanity and how he expected Ben to be back in training as soon as he was back on his feet.

Ben was back on his feet two weeks later. He walked out the front door with Klaus hot on his heels and never looked back.

So, really, The Mission had marked three things. Because Ben’s exit had triggered an exodus. Five disappeared back to wherever he’d come from as soon as he confirmed Ben was okay. Allison rumored her way to Hollywood. Diego took off and found a job at a gym where he could train for the Police Academy. Vanya wasn’t technically a member of the Academy; she, at least, took the time to get into college before she left. Luther was the only one who stuck around, right up until he went radio silent then took a modestly publicized trip to the Moon.

The Mission marked the end of the Umbrella Academy.

The cab had stopped. Klaus was tugging at his sleeve. The Academy towered outside the window, imposing as ever. Ben took a breath, held it for five seconds, then let out slowly.

He could do this. It was a funeral. What could possibly go wrong?

Two days earlier

Ben made a couple of final notes, then closed the case file. It was too late for dinner by the time he got everything organized for his sessions the next day. He opened the fridge anyway. The vegetables he’d gotten in a fit of optimism last weekend were spoiled. Cool. This was why he tried to stick to realism. All optimism ever got him was rotten vegetables and unreturned phone calls.

He threw a bag of popcorn in the microwave. The first kernels were popping when the door flew open and a tornado of black fabric and faux fur entered.

“Have you heard the news?”

Ben stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Klaus? It’s been over a month. Where the hell have you been?”

“Of course you haven’t heard the news,” Klaus said, beelining it to Ben’s TV. “You probably just finished work. And you call me an addict.”

Ben bristled. “It’s not easy starting an independent practice.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Klaus said with a wink as he fiddled with the remote.

Ben couldn’t stop himself from scanning his brother. Check for new marks, for bruises, for hints of where he’d been while Ben’s guest room had remained empty. The circles under his brother’s eyes had gotten even darker and, despite moving like the Tasmanian devil on crack, he seemed fragile. Wait-

“Is that a hospital bracelet on your wrist?”

Klaus waved said wrist at Ben, flapping his hand and he focused on turning to whatever channel he was searching for.

“Found it!”

A picture of Reginald Hargreeves flashed onto his screen.

“The billionaire inventor was reported missing in late February, according to our sources. The investigation was kept quiet at the family’s request.”

“Not my request,” Klaus muttered.

“Pogo,” Ben replied. That was the only option that made sense. He hadn’t heard about any missing person report and, regardless of the fragility of the family ties that bound them, he didn’t think any of his siblings would have kept it a secret from him.

“Authorities officially declared Mr. Hargreeves dead this afternoon, citing new evidence in the case that points to-”

Klaus turned the volume down and turned to Ben with a huge grin.

Ben blinked back at him. “He’s…”

Klaus’ grin widened. “Ding dong, the witch is dead!”

The microwave beeped in agreement.

“Celebratory popcorn for all!” Klaus cheered, hopping up and dancing around Ben into the kitchen.

His father’s picture continued glaring at him from the TV screen.

Well damn. He’d have to re-arrange his sessions for the week.

He shouldn’t be surprised. Reginald Hargreeves would never let a little thing like death keep him from screwing up his children’s lives.

March 26, 2019

“There are still some important things we need to discuss,” Luther said. He’d positioned himself in front of them like a lecturer in front of a classroom. Or like a leader in front of his underlings. How 2004 of him. Klaus settled onto couch next to Ben with a glass of whatever he’d found at the bar.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Five?” Vanya asked from Ben’s other side.

“Who knows if or when he’ll show up,” Luther responded. “This can’t wait.”

“Oh really?” Diego asked. “And what’s so important that it can’t wait for all of us to get here?” He’d taken the chair to Luther’s left, as close to Luther’s position as he could get. Ben’s professional brain flagged about fifteen things he could write in a report about his brother before he forced it back into family mode.

“The way he died,” Luther retorted.

Diego rolled his eyes. “And here we go.”

“I don’t understand,” Vanya said. “I thought the investigation was closed. They determined no foul play. It was an accident on the way home from a trip.”

“Yeah, according to the detectives,” Luther said, as if that was a point in his favor.

“And the coroner,” Ben added.

“And the coroner,” Luther amended.

“Well wouldn’t they know?” Vanya said.

“Theoretically.”

“Theoretically?” Allison asked.

Luther deflated a little. “I’m just saying. The last time I talked to Dad, he sounded strange.”

“Oh, quelle surprise,” Klaus gargled through his drink.

Allison shook her head. “Strange how?”

“He told me to be careful who to trust.”

Diego stood up. “Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles.”

“No,” Luther insisted. “He must have known something was going to happen.” He turned to Klaus. “Look, I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad.”

“You can’t ask that of him,” Ben said.

Klaus laughed. “Yes, Number One, very rude of you. I can’t just call Dad in the afterlife and be like ‘Dad, could you stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?’”

Luther gave a confused shake of his head. “Since when? That’s your thing.”

“I’m not in the right frame of mind.”

Ben leaned back into the couch, grabbing the glass out of Klaus’ hand and stealing a substantial gulp. Diego was giving him a sympathetic look. Ben returned it. If Klaus was set on digging himself a hole, who was Ben to stop him?

“You’re high?” Allison said.

“Yeah! I mean, how are you not, listening to this nonsense.”

“Well, sober up,” Luther ordered. “This is important.”

“Let him be,” Ben said, resigned.

“Aren’t you supposed to help people like him?”

Ben glared at Luther. “I specialize in anxiety and depression, but thanks for your concern in my professional capabilities.”

“Fine,” Luther said. “There’s also the matter of Dad’s missing effects.”

“Who cares about his stuff?” Diego asked. “He was on a trip, right? He probably, I don’t know, packed an overnight bag.”

“No. His stuff was rifled through. Like someone had gone through it in a rush. I think this was planned and it was personal. Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge.”

Ben perked up. “You better not be going where I think you’re going with this.”

Klaus looked back and forth between Ben and Luther. “You think one of us knows something?”

“Not just knows something,” Diego said, deadly low. “He thinks one of us had something to do with it.” He stalked over to Luther to get in his face. Ben shifted forward, flipping through his conflict resolution training in his head.

“Nice to see nothing’s changed.”

They all whipped around, comically in sync with each other for once.

Five stood at the bar pouring himself a drink despite the fact that he didn’t look much older than the last time they’d seen him.

He’d said he was 19 then.

It had been well over a decade since they’d all been the same age. From what they could gather, Reginald had finally given in and allowed Five to start time travelling when they were 15. It hadn’t taken long to notice Five wasn’t aging at the same pace as them. Not when they all gained height and weight and Five remained stubbornly short and slender. He was already gone more often than not at that point. They hadn’t seen him in nearly three months when Reginald called him in to help with The Mission. Five still had every appearance of the 15-year-old who had started disappearing on them two years before. It hadn’t affected his instinct or his reaction time. If anything, he was quicker than the rest of their siblings.

Ben supposed he should be thankful. It had saved his life.

Five had become a blip in their lives. In-and-out like a stray cat. He’d always come back – somehow the most devoted to the idea of their dysfunctional little family despite being there the least – but they never knew when or where he’d appear.

The only constant was a briefcase he insisted on keeping with him.

“Good of you to show up,” Luther snapped.

“I thought so,” Five said, raising his glass to Luther before taking a swig and walking to join their circle. “So what are we arguing about?” He looked Klaus up and down. “Nice dress.”

“Oh, danke!”

“Luther thinks we had something to do with Dad’s death,” Vanya said. She held out her hand with a subtle smile. Five heaved an exaggerated sigh and passed her his drink.

“Does he now?” he said, turning to Luther with mischief in his eyes. “And how do you reckon that, big guy?”

“No one else knows his movements.”

“You think they do?” Five gestured around the room. “How many of you have been back to the Academy in the past, say, seven years? Show of hands.”

Luther and Diego raised their hands.

“I wasn’t going to leave Mom all alone here,” Diego muttered.

“And how many of you talked to Dad?” Five asked.

Diego put his hand down.

“So, Luther,” Five said, “tell me how any of them would know Dad’s movements any better than someone who turned on the news at the right time?”

“You would,” Luther threw back. “You knew him better than any of us. So where have you been the past month, huh Five?”

“You always were jealous that I got extra special training,” Five scoffed, spitting the last three words like a curse. “We weren’t bonding over a nice bottle of scotch, you know.”

“Answer the question,” Luther grit out.

“I was here and there. Mostly 1955. Had a layover in 1963. I think I was in the 1800s for a bit. I’d have to check the logs. You know how it is.”

None of them knew how it was.

“If you’re not going to be serious,” Luther started.

“What do you want to hear? That I stashed Dad’s body in a log cabin up state? Or maybe a penthouse under a false name across town? Won’t find it until the money runs out or the smell gets so bad-”

“Oh my god, Five, why are you like this?” Allison groaned.

Five shrugged. “I want to see him dead as much as the next guy, but he’s serving a greater purpose. I wouldn’t threaten that.”

Ben felt his brow furrow. “A greater purpose?”

Five waved his hand, grabbed his drink back from Vanya, and drained it, wincing as he swallowed. “This has been great, as always. I’m sticking around for a while, if anyone cares. Make sure there’s coffee in the kitchen.”

He was gone as quickly as he’d come.

“He doesn’t even seem bothered,” Allison said.

“He’s an emotionless bastard. What did you expect?” Diego responded.

“He took Dad’s glass,” Luther said.

Klaus levered himself to his feet. “Powerful observations all around. Fun as this has been, I’m going to see if there’s anything to eat while I plot Mom’s murder.”

Ben slumped back onto the couch again as Klaus floated out of the room. Diego gave Luther one last look of disdain before following. Allison did the same with a disappointed shake of her head.

“Come on, guys,” Luther called after them. He turned back to where Vanya and Ben sat on the couch.

“We were here first,” Ben said.

Luther sighed and trudged upstairs. Ben rolled his head to face Vanya. She offered him a small smile.

Their siblings were weird. Their relationships were fractured.

At least most of it was predictable.

Klaus thought that maybe with the other siblings around he could escape Ben. He should’ve known better.

He’d tried to talk to Dad. He really had. Withdrawal was a bitch, but he’d pushed through. All for nothing. The old man was as stubborn dead as he had been alive. And what was the point, really? To appease Luther? To give Reggie that chance to express his disappointment one more time before settling into the Great Beyond? To listen to several minutes’ worth of chastisement, get exactly zero answers to their questions, then deal with the inevitable argument it caused in the shambles of their family?

No. Klaus was done.

He’d gone up to Reginald’s office, nabbed the fanciest thing he could find, and headed to the nearest exit.

It all went swimmingly until he heard footsteps following him into the alley.

Turns out years of on-and-off living with someone meant they sort of knew your habits. So annoying.

“What do you think you’re doing, Klaus?” Ben asked.

“Oh, you know, practicing my lock-picking skills,” Klaus said without turning around. “Aha!”

The box opened to reveal a pile of papers and books. Worthless. At least the box should fetch more than enough at the pawn shop. He went to throw the papers in the dumpster. Ben intercepted his hand with a put-upon sigh and grabbed them himself.

Klaus kept moving. “You can save yourself the lecture, Benerino. I’m done. I tried to contact dear old dad like Luther wanted and nothing. Nada. Zilch.”

Papers rustled behind him, the familiar sound of pages flipping that Klaus had grown accustomed to while Ben was in grad school.

Klaus huffed. “I deserve a break.”

“Klaus?”

“It’s been hard, okay? Not the old man dying. I couldn’t give two shits about that. Happy sailing and what not, am I right?”

“Klaus.”

“But what’s with Luther throwing around accusations? And Five being all mysterious and Five-like? It’s weird, right?”

“Klaus.”

“He’s acting like he wasn’t Dad’s snarky sidekick for the past however many years, then talking about ‘a greater purpose’? What the hell does that even mean? He always says shit like that and it never makes any sense. Something is off, Ben. Mark my words.”

“You’re right,” Ben said, sounding distantly shocked.

Klaus stumbled over a stray shoe and almost faceplanted into the pavement.

“I’m what now?” he asked, turning around to face Ben with a grin.

Ben was staring at the papers with wide eyes. His mouth was hanging open and there was a tremor running through his hands.

Klaus’ grin faded. He took a step closer, frowning. “Ben?”

Ben finally looked up at him. “You’re right. Something is very off about Five and Dad.”

Klaus lurched back to Ben. “If this is a trick to keep me from pawning this,” he said, glancing at the papers. It took a minute for what was written to make sense.

“Oh my god,” he murmured. “I was right.”

Ben had made Klaus show him where he’d found the box. They pilfered as many other pages and notebooks as they could find, pushed all the living room furniture back, and set up an organizational system on the floor. Ben was flipping through a red journal ostentatious enough that Klaus would know it belonged to Reginald even without the initials embossed on the front. Seriously. Why did he need it embossed? None of them were allowed anything half that nice. It was clearly Reginald’s.

Klaus picked up another sheet of loose paper. 1999. He started crawling over the 2003 row to put it in its rightful place in the chronology.

“Hey,” Allison’s voice said from the doorway, “we’re going to do the funeral…” She trailed off as she took in the set-up on the floor.

“What the hell is this?” Diego said. Vanya and Luther appeared behind him and Allison.

“Oh, hey, guys!” Klaus greeted. “Did you all know Five was Dad’s personal assassin or were me and Benny the only ones kept in the dark?”

November 10, 2002

A knife stuck into the dining table.

“I want to time travel.”

“No.”

“But I’m ready. I’ve been practicing my spatial jumps, just like you said.”

The boy appeared next to him in a flash.

“See?”

Reginald paused. A spatial jump was trivial compared to the unknowns of time travel. Number Five did not yet have the patience to understand the intricacies of what he asked for.

And yet…

He was right. He practiced with a dedication not seen in most of the other children. He applied what he learned and had an aptitude in mathematics well above average.

A metaphor hovered at the tip of Reginald’s tongue - ice and freezing waters and acorns. It would be lost on the boy. He was too stubbornly devoted to the idea of time travel. And, loath as Reginald was to admit it, he needed Number Five to remain at his side.

Perhaps Reginald had instilled too much ego in him.

That could be remedied.

He set his utensils down and faced Number Five where he stood beside to Reginald’s seat. “I have another task in mind for you. We shall begin training tomorrow.”

Five hesitated at that. Curiosity always got the best of him. Reginald had learned years ago – the best way to control Number Five was to pique his interest. That or threaten his siblings.

“What task?” Five finally asked.

Reginald suppressed a swell of victory. “Tomorrow. My office. 8 am sharp.”

Five worked his jaw, mulling over his options. “Fine.” He blinked back to his seat, pulled the knife from the table, and slid his dinner plate back into its place.

Preparations were made after the children had gone to bed.

Each of the children had skills that made them uniquely valuable. That value was more concrete for some than for others.

Numbers One and Two were his hammers. One: strong, physically resilient, manipulable. A staunch defender of those he felt loyalty towards and malleable enough to twist that loyalty towards Reginald. Two: Competitive and agile with projectile weapons, a perfect offensive tool against enemies and easily controlled himself through an instilled rivalry with Number One.

Number Three was his voice. She could get through any door, sway anyone to his side who he couldn’t control via other means. A powerful asset.

Number Four, if he would cooperate, could serve as an exceptional spy. The ability to speak to the dead held such unfathomable potential. Yet it remained out of reach – an abstract weapon Reginald would likely never wield unless Number Four conceded to his training.

Number Six was his weapon of mass destruction. A threat to maintain control over those the others couldn’t reach.

Number Seven was, of course, a lost cause.

Each child had their own potential, none of them fully realized yet. That would come with time.

But Number Five? The ability to jump through space and, eventually, time? Dedication to a cause and – while skillfully hidden – a fierce devotion to family?

Reginald unlocked a drawer and ran his finger down a growing list of names. Problems to be solved.

Number Five was by far the closest to reaching his potential, already brushing the edge of greatness.

Yes. He had plans for Number Five.

March 26, 2019

“What the hell?” Luther whispered, putting down one stack of papers and picking up the next.

“We’ve covered that, yes,” Klaus replied.

“I still can’t believe this,” Allison said for the fiftieth time. Klaus sighed. Why did he even bother responding? They were all sat in various positions around the room scanning Dad’s notes. The day he’d broken Five like an egg in a “This is your brain on drugs” ad was just the beginning. There were notes on all of them. Experimental notes. About his children. Their powers, their training, hell even their sleeping patterns. All carefully objective. Like they were nothing more than lab rats. Luther had tried to defend old Reggie at first. He’d quieted after the account of Five’s first “solo mission.” Then he’d found out his moon mission had been a sham. Allison had taken him to the other room and talked him through whatever crisis that caused. When they’d come back, he’d handed his stack of papers to Vanya and grabbed the closest bottle of alcohol he could find. He’d gotten through about a third of it.

A thwump interrupted whatever continued disbelief Allison might have followed up with.

Five sat in a previously unoccupied armchair. He skimmed the notes on the floor, then scanned their faces.

“So you figured it out.”

Vanya started to respond, then frowned and leaned towards him. “Is that blood on your shirt?”

Five glanced down to examine his clothes, tugging his jacket to cover the blotch that was most definitely blood. “It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Vanya said.

Five gave her a soft smile – as soft as Five did anything. “I had to take care of something.”

“You mean you had to kill someone for Dad,” Diego said.

“Funnily enough, no. This had more to do with my other employer.” He paused tipping his head side-to-side in consideration. “Former employer. But normally you’d be spot on.”

Ben frowned, flipping through some of the papers in front of him. “There’s not anything in any of these about another employer.”

“There won’t be,” Five replied, eyeing the piles of papers scattered on the floor. “He kept those separate. Wouldn’t want to mix up his notes about organizations and threats with his scientific notes about his experiments.”

“It’s true?” Luther asked. “All these years, Dad had you killing people.”

“Of course it’s true. Did you think Dad kept decoy notes to throw you off track?”

“I mean, now that you mention it,” Klaus said.

Five pulled a face Klaus recognized as his I’m-amused-but-refuse-to-acknowledge-it expression. “Well, he didn’t. Gotta say, I don’t think he expected you to pillage his belongings quite so fast.”

“Five,” Allison said, pushing up to her knees and moving over to the armchair. “This is serious.”

Whatever amusement there had been shut off like a water main as she approached. She scanned his face. What she was looking for, Klaus wasn’t sure, but she clearly didn’t find it.

“How did he get you to agree?” she asked. “You were always so stubborn. You pushed back against him. You threatened to leave. His notes say he took you into his office and showed you something, but he doesn’t say what. Just that you responded ‘as hoped.’”

“Allison,” Ben warned.

“It’s fine,” Five said, eyes never leaving Allison’s. “You’re talking about when we were 13. The day I wanted to time travel.”

“Yes,” she said.

Five broke into a humorless smile. “He showed me the end of everything.”

November 11, 2002

Reginald’s office door clicked shut behind him.

Five scanned the room. There was nothing indicative of a new training regimen. Reginald stood in front of his desk, polishing his monocle with a cloth. Five moved a respectable distance in front of him, hands in his pockets.

“Alright, then, what’s this new training?”

Reginald held up the monocle and inspected it. “You want to see the future, Number Five?”

Five narrowed his eyes. What the hell kind of question was that? Some kind of test?

“I want to time travel. I know I can. Help me or don’t.”

Reginald tipped his head. “Very well. I have an important task for you. A role I believe you will adjust to quite well.”

“Great, let’s get to it.”

“In the year 2019, a cataclysmic event will destroy all human life on Earth. The reason I founded the Umbrella Academy and train you and your siblings as I do is for you to stop that event.”

Five gaped, then scrambled to cover his disbelief.

Holy shit. He’d always known Reginald was off, but this? The old man had lost it. He was a doomsday-er. One of those cuckoos who collected cans of food in a bunker in the basement. That couldn’t be right. Odd as Reginald was, he’d never struck Five as quite that flavor of delusional.

He needed more information.

“End of the world, huh? And how are the six of us gonna stop it?”

“You will each contribute in your own way. As I said, I have a very important role in mind for you.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“You’ve taught us to find evidence. Proof. I’m not seeing either here.”

Reginald’s mustache twitched. “And what if I could provide it for you?”

“How?”

Reginald held out his monocle. Five stared at it like it was a gun Reginald pulled on him.

“Go on, take it.”

Five did. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“That monocle allows its wearer to see in the inner nature of those within its sight. As such, with the right guidance, it offers visions of the future.”

“That’s-”

“Easily provable if you put it on and look in the mirror.”

That was true, Five supposed. Either he’d put on the monocle and find out it was some mystical alien artifact that allowed visions of the future or he’d continue to see the office, pretend he saw an apocalyptic future, then figure out how to convince his siblings that their father was a few fries short of a Happy Meal and that they needed leave. They were 13 and they had superpowers. They could probably survive between the seven of them.

Slowly, Five fitted the monocle over his left eye. He didn’t know how he expected it to feel. The metal of the rim was cold despite Reginald’s earlier ministrations. Nothing seemed particularly out of sorts. Reginald had stepped out of view; all Five could see was the office around him, though it was almost pulsing. Like it was waiting for something.

He turned towards the mirror, caught a glimpse of himself, then-

He was covered in blood. Some of it was dried on his face, old, the itch of it familiar enough that it didn’t register as odd. Some was new, dripping down his cheek to land on his shirt, coating his hands like a macabre set of gloves.

This- this wasn’t possible. He was hallucinating. It had to be some kind of trick. He jerked around, trying to get his bearings in the office-

Only to stumble backwards with a noise of distress he barely recognized as his own.

The world was fire and ash. The street around him – how had he gotten onto a street?! – was nothing but debris. He- he recognized this. It was a few blocks from the Academy. He took off running. Everything around him was destroyed. Smoke strangled him, but he didn’t slow down. Where was everyone? Where was his family?

The gate and the doorway were all that was left when he reached the Academy.

No.

NO!

They couldn’t be-

“Ben? Vanya? Dad?”

No one answered.

Surely, there must be someone. Someone alive who could tell him what was going on.

He started combing the streets. It didn’t take long to notice the bodies. He ignored them and pushed forward. There had to be some sign – any sign – of what had happened.

And then he reached a body he recognized.

He staggered over blocks of concrete and charred foundation to the bodies. Four of them. He couldn’t make out their blurred faces, not really, but he knew without question that they were his siblings.

He fell to his knees, barely feeling the sting as they cracked and bled over rubble. Everything was gone. He was the last one left. Just him and four bodies with umbrella tattoos on their wrists.

Where were the other two? He needed to find them.

He couldn’t make himself get up. What did it matter? They wouldn’t be alive anyway.

His whole world was gone. All that was left was a gaping hole of isolation and dust and a sense of grief so profound he could feel it at the deepest part of his soul.

It was too much. He couldn't breathe. He wanted to scream. He was going to vomit.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn’t breathe-

He woke up on his father’s office floor.

His breathing had settled. He could still feel something clutching in his chest, but it was all oddly detached. Like he was looking at himself from across the room.

The monocle was gone.

He pushed himself into a sitting position. It felt like it had been days. Weeks. A lifetime of desolate nothingness with only his sibling’s bodies to keep him company. His throat felt dry and his stomach was gnawing at itself despite having had breakfast before he’d come up.

Reginald was across from him, once again polishing the monocle, his face a blank mask of indifference.

Or maybe it wasn’t a mask at all. Maybe he truly didn’t care that his son was collapsed in a pile of uncoordinated limbs, throat swollen from sobs he didn’t remember choking on.

Five felt something try to rise at that – anger maybe – but it never swelled larger than a ripple, smothered by something bigger.

There was only one thing he cared about.

“How do we stop it?” Five asked.

Reginald set the monocle on the desk, draping the folded cloth beside it. “You will be my scalpel. Surgical precision is paramount. You will gather information. Together, we will determine who or what may cause the apocalypse. You will eliminate those threats. You will not be seen, but your actions will dictate the outcome of humankind.”

“The others-”

“Are not prepared for the truth. You and I are.”

That was true. The others wouldn’t be able to handle this. But Five could. And Reginald…Reginald had a plan. They could stop the world from becoming what he’d seen.

It should probably bother him that he hadn’t really felt anything since he woke up. He flashed briefly to the future, the immense sense of loss.

No. This was easier.

Five pulled himself to his feet.

“Tell me more.”

March 26, 2019

“My first kill was less than 48 hours later,” Five said. “Well, my first premeditated kill. We were all good little soldiers before that.”

The springs of the chair creaked as Five sat back and pulled his legs up cross-cross applesauce. It was the only sound in the room, jarringly loud in the crushing silence.

“Huh,” Klaus breathed. There was, as Ben would say, a lot to unpack there. The future always felt like it was going to be shit, but a desolate wasteland of isolation and dust and a sense of grief so profound it reached the depths of one’s soul hadn’t quite been on his radar.

“The apocalypse,” Luther murmured.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true,” Five said. “We have five days to stop it. Closer to four now.”

“Five,” Allison finally said in a voice Klaus suspected she reserved for Claire, which – yikes – Five was not going to appreciate, “what he did to you-”

“Showing me the future?”

Allison hesitated. “Sure. What he showed you. It wasn’t-” she stopped again, pursed her lips in frustration. “How do you even know it was real?”

“Trust me, it was real. I don’t know if it’s because of my powers or what, but I could tell. Even if I hadn’t then, I most certainly know now.”

“How could you possibly know that for sure?”

“How can any of us do what we do? I just know, Allison. Jesus.”

Allison shot him a dangerous look. “You know he traumatized you into doing what he wanted, right?”

If Five was upset at the observation, he did nothing to betray it. “No, he didn’t.”

“He did,” Allison insisted.

“He showed me a future we need to stop. It wasn’t pretty, but it was necessary. Now, if we could-”

“None of that was necessary!” She turned a pleading gaze to Ben. “Can you back me up here?”

“I’m not diagnosing our brother after less than ten minutes of conversation,” Ben replied. He paused and moved to meet Five’s gaze. “But it does sound like you shut down emotionally to protect yourself and that Dad took advantage of that to manipulate you into doing things you normally wouldn’t have done.”

“And what exactly do you think it is I wouldn’t normally have done?” Five responded, hackles raising ever so slightly.

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Become an assassin at age 13. Probably other things too, but that’s the one that stands out.”

Five scoffs. “I was always a weapon. He just pointed me in a direction.”

Klaus twitched. Because those? Those were very clearly not Five’s words. Five was all sharp edges and arrogance and sardonic remarks. He’d never been one to frame himself by what he was to other people. A weapon. Something without its own will or agency. Something to be used by someone else. By their father. Jesus, how had Reginald wheedled his way so far into Five’s mind with none of them noticing?

“Five-” Allison pleaded.

“Don't act like what he did to me is any more than what he did to any of you. I'm a different instrument but we're all his tools in the end,” Five shot back.

“Don’t push right now,” Ben murmured to Allison.

She clenched her jaw, but didn’t say anything more.

Five narrowed his eyes at Ben. “I’m not one of your patients.”

“I know,” Ben said, calm as a summer breeze. “You’re my brother.”

Five didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. Klaus fiddled with the papers in front of him in the lull that followed. In terms of a spontaneous intervention, this was a hell of a way to go. The fact that Five hadn’t killed any of them yet was impressive. Klaus stopped a hiccup of hysterical laughter. Jesus, Five really could kill any of them. He had the skill set. The literal job title. The way some of their conversations went, how had he held back?

Luther broke the silence with an awkward cough. “So, uh, do you know what all is in here?” He gestured at the piles of notes on the floor. “What he said about us?”

“Nope. He never showed me. Believe me, I asked. Everything about you was ‘none of your concern, Number Five,’” Five mocked. “I can take a pretty good guess what he wrote about me though.” Five stood up, brushing down his jacket in a practiced move Klaus was sure was meant to come across as casual. It would have if there hadn’t been a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flash of cornered animal behind his eyes. “It looks like you all have your hands full here. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your investigation. Plenty more to discover in there, I’m sure.”

“You’re going?” Diego asked. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Five confirmed. “I was only dropping by for a quick check-in. Got places to be.”

“Where?” Luther asked. “Dad’s dead. What could you possibly have to do?”

Five didn’t say anything, staring hard at Luther.

Luther wavered. “Five? Dad is dead, isn’t he?”

The little shit let his lips quirk up and disappeared in a flash of light.

“What an asshole,” Diego said.

“Is Dad not dead?” Luther said, mostly to himself.

“I think he’s entitled to be an asshole after everything we just heard,” Allison threw back.

“I’m as sympathetic as the next guy, but he was an asshole long before Dad made him whatever that was.” Diego gestured at where Five had disappeared.

“Oh my god, did Five really hide Dad in a cabin up state?” Luther said.

Diego turned on him. “We don’t have time for your crisis right now. Ten minutes ago, you were finally on our side that Dad was a monster who experimented on his children.”

Luther startled back to the present. “I still am! I just- if he’s alive-”

“If he’s alive, he’s continuing to manipulate our younger brother into being his own personal hitman,” Diego seethed. “Does that sound like a great man, Luther? Is that someone who you trust to differentiate good from evil?”

“Jesus, give him a second to process,” Allison said.

“Sure, take his side like always.”

And, naturally, that broke into a full-blown argument. Because God forbid One, Two, and Three actually have a calm conversation that didn’t require an entire team of trained mediators.

Vanya shook her head and went back to her pile of notes. Ben picked up the journal again.

Klaus rifled through the papers in front of him, but his heart wasn’t in it.

He couldn’t recall many individual interactions with his siblings from their youth. They sort of melted together. Too much time, too many drugs, whatever. But he remembered when Five had started pulling away. In part because it coincided with a new training schedule for both of them. Otherwise, Klaus was sure it would’ve been lost in the annals of his mind.

Heh, annals.

But he digressed.

It hadn’t taken long to notice the different treatment. It wasn’t so much favoring, though Luther certainly took it that way. Reginald was still set on them being a team. Five’s role on said team, however, became much more mysterious.

Klaus had run into Five on the way back from the bathroom one night.

“Hey, Five-o!”

“Klaus,” Five had responded.

“So, what’s with the new training?”

Five had pinned him with an expression dead enough that Klaus almost thought he was seeing an apparition from the mausoleum.

“It’s nothing,” Five had said, impassive, then he’d walked away like he was in a trance.

And Klaus – terrified baby Klaus – had been too scared to push it because Five so clearly had Reginald’s eyes and ears on him. So he’d scampered back to his room and gotten high. He’d pulled back from his brother. His brother who, as it turns out, had probably just returned from his first assassination after – or possibly in the middle of – what sounded like a doozy of a nervous breakdown.

Brotherhood at its finest.

Luther, Diego, and Allison’s argument escalated in the background. They were so loud and Klaus was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t hear the sharp inhale from the corner Ben had carved out for himself.

When Klaus looked over, Ben appeared to be skimming the same area of the journal over and over again, a broken record skipping on repeat. Vanya gave Klaus a concerned shake of her head.

“Ben?” Klaus asked.

That finally got everyone’s attention. Ben jerked up to face them, paler than before. His eyes flitted between them, finally settling on Vanya. “Um. Vanya, can I talk to you? Privately.”

Vanya’s brow creased. “Sure?”

They moved into the other room.

That effectively killed the argument. If Klaus had known that was all it took, he’d have pulled someone into the hallway earlier. Everyone went back to shuffling through Reginald’s notes.

“I have WHAT?!” echoed from the hallway.

Klaus sighed. What Dad could have written about ordinary little Vanya, he didn’t know, but why not add more excitement to the day?

It wasn’t like anything could be more dramatic than Five being a teenage assassin, right?

Chapter Text

Griddy’s was grimier than Five remembered. Then again, he hadn’t been back since before Reginald had let him in on the whole apocalypse situation and recruited him to the cause.

A lot can change in six years.

Or, he supposed, 16 years. Almost 17.

It had been strange, the realization that his siblings were going to get older without him. Even stranger watching it happen. Vanya graduated college. Ben earned his Master’s degree. Allison had a baby. Meanwhile, Five could barely grow a patchy excuse for a beard.

He swirled his coffee and took a drink. It burned, more bitter than he preferred, but it was passable. He’d certainly had worse.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t changed too. His changes…they were less visible. He’d been able to keep those pieces of himself hidden from everyone other than Reginald and his targets. Until now.

Reginald had kept close records of Five’s kills. He’d always asked for details and Five had never hesitated giving them. Comprehensive accounts analyzing what he had done, what – if anything – was said, any hint that might fit into the larger puzzle of the apocalypse.

It was important.

It was necessary.

It was probably callous, if Five worried about things like that anymore.

It had been a long time since he had felt anything other than the drive to prevent, prevent, protect, protect, protect

Now those records were laid bare on the living room floor for anyone to see.

He’d never particularly cared what anyone thought of him. Yet, there was a pit in his stomach that hadn’t been there at the start of the day. Seeing his actions through his siblings’ eyes – it didn’t weaken his resolve, but it made everything more real.

He’d always assumed they’d be angry when they inevitably learned the truth. And they had been. At Reginald. Which was fine. Logical even. But that anger didn’t seem to carry over to Five. If it had, it was masked by a sadness so blatant that every single one of his prepared responses failed him.

His grip around his cup tightened.

Why? Five was a killer. He owned up to that. Objectively, he was not the type that anyone should feel sad for. He was a monster forged in the illusion of justice. The act of change possessed in a revolver. Revolution packed into a suitcase bomb.

He’d known something was wrong with him after his first kill. People are supposed to feel things when they commit atrocities. He’d seen it chip away at Ben right up until it nearly killed him.

Five had felt nothing, and he’d leaned into it with all that he was.

In the early days, he had asked why. Why this person? Why would their death matter? And the early ones had been justified. A murderer. A rapist. A corrupt businessman harming his employees. Eventually, Five learned how to calculate probabilities, how to map future events using actions in the present, the little ways his targets might affect the future. He stopped asking and started analyzing.

Then Reginald had begun sending him after younger targets. Teenagers. People the same age as him and his siblings.

Maybe that would have stopped a better person.

Five stared at the paper his father handed him. “This one is only 14 though.”

“As are you, Number Five. As are your siblings. Are you not capable of committing harm?” Reginald responded.

He couldn’t argue with that, now could he?

One had already been in prison. It had almost been a relief. The kid had beaten his father to death. Five had appeared in his cell in the middle of the night. The boy had sat up on his cot and gaped at him.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you? Number Five, right? That’s how you got in.”

“Does it matter?”

“I should be with you. A member the Umbrella Academy. I tried once, but your dad…” the boy trailed off. There was anger there and hurt with a touch of vindictiveness. Five remembered the pictures of the crime scene. A man’s head beaten in with a hammer. Gruesome and personal in a way Five’s kills never were.

The boy, Harold – it would be unprofessional not to learn his targets’ names – looked Five up and down. “I assume you’re not here because Mr. Hargreeves changed his mind.”

“No. I’m not.”

Harold swallowed, but he didn’t cry. Impressive. They usually cried, on the rare occasion they saw him coming.

“Am I that important?” he finally said. “That the Monocle would deem me a threat to the Academy?”

“Sure,” Five shrugged. “If that makes it easier for you, go ahead and go with that.”

It wasn’t like it was untrue. If he was on the list, he was a threat to the world.

“It does,” Harold said with a small smile. “There isn’t anything I can offer you. But your dad is an asshole. Trust me, I know a thing or two about asshole dads.

He waited for a response from Five. Five didn’t give one.

Harold plowed onwards. “You deserve better than that. If you let me live, we could be friends.”

“We couldn’t. But nice try.”

Harold shrugged. “Had to give it a shot.”

Then he lunged.

Later, while Five dabbed at blood stains on his shirt, Reginald had sat at his desk recording everything Five could remember from the encounter.

“And do you think he was a threat, Number Five?”

Five thought back to the hunger in Harold’s eyes as they’d fought, a hunger that – despite years of killing – Five had yet to experience.

“Yes. He was.”

Reginald had given a single nod. “Elaborate.”

And Five did.

He always did.

It had been clear that Harold had the potential to become a threat. Some of the others though? Five had stopped asking, but he’d never stopped wondering why the youngest subset of Reginald’s targets had all been born the same day as him and his siblings.

His coffee was lukewarm when the diner’s bell jingled. A reflection caught in the bell on the counter. Five sighed.

“I thought I’d have more time before they found me.”

“Let’s all be professional about this, yeah?” the man closest to Five said, “On your feet and come with us. They want to talk.”

“I’ve got nothing to say.”

“It doesn’t have to go this way. You think I want to shoot a kid and go home with that on my conscience?”

Five stared into his half-finished coffee. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about that. You won’t be going home.”

Five stepped out of his jump into a pretentious bedroom-turned-office. He beelined it to the attached bathroom, rifled through the cabinet, then returned to one of the more comfortable chairs with disinfectant and bandages.

Reginald didn’t spare him a glance from where he sat at an ostentatious desk. Honestly, the previous owner’s taste was atrocious. A mix of old money and modern extravagance that Five scrunched his nose at but Reginald found “acceptable for the time being.”

“Report, Number Five.”

Five poured the disinfectant onto a cloth and swiped it over the cut on his arm. “The others found your notes. They know what we’ve been doing.”

“Hm. Unfortunate, but not unexpected.”

“I think they know you’re not dead.”

He left out the part where he’d been the one to basically confirm it. They would’ve gotten there eventually. Probably. But no need to leave things to chance. This close to the apocalypse, they needed to be together and safe, not squabbling over trivialities.

“It’s of no consequence. The Umbrella Academy has reunited.”

Reginald finally looked up. He gave Five a disaffected once-over, landing on the wound Five was inspecting, and raised an eyebrow.

“I stopped at Griddy’s after I left the Academy,” Five said. “The Commission found me.”

“You forgot to dampen your tracker,” Reginald said. “An amateur mistake. I’ve taught you better than that.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s been a busy day. Sue me. It doesn’t matter anymore. I took it out.”

“I can see that,” Reginald said, stepping around the desk. He took the roll of gauze Five had been struggling with and started wrapping Five’s arm. Five slumped back into the seat.

It really had been a long day.

“I presume you had no issue with your attackers?”

“They’re taken care of. I stuck around for a little while afterwards. Near Griddy’s. I saw Hazel and Cha-Cha in the crowd.”

“Did they see you?” Reginald asked, pinning the gauze.

“No. I don’t think so, at least. I jumped a few times before coming back, just in case. If the Handler is sending Hazel and Cha-Cha, we must be close. They’re the best of the best other than me.”

Reginald walked back to his seat and tapped the organized mess on the desk. Five followed, grabbing a handful of the trail mix Reginald begrudgingly kept around for him. Papers of various age and size were strewn across the desktop. At the center sat an order from the Commission to an agent on-the-ground. His hard-earned prize.

“Have you figured out why the Commission wanted Lester Swann dead?” he asked through a mouthful of mixed nuts.

Reginald kept examining the papers. “What do we know about him?”

“He was 56 years old, divorced, three kids. Went to college and graduate school in Pennsylvania. Worked in a few pharmacies there after he finished. Moved here in the early ‘90s for his then-wife’s job. Landed a position at a local drug store, became the owner a few years back, and worked there until he was killed yesterday. Two bullets to the chest, one to the head.”

And Five had just missed them. He’d intercepted the order, but was caught before he could fully sabotage the tube room and briefcases. The Handler was right about one thing – Gloria was too damn good at her job. By the time he escaped, looked up the name on the order, and tracked the man down, it had been too late. Flames were already starting to dance behind the pharmacy windows. He’d jumped in only to find Swann laid out in a pool of his own blood and the fire spreading too fast to save anything.

He'd gone to the police station to see if they’d salvaged anything from the crime scene between his visits to the Academy. The Handler must have predicted his movements. Commission agents attacked him and he’d been forced to retreat.

The only clue they had was the name. Not ideal, but not terrible. They’d worked with less before. It wasn’t the end of the world. Unless it was.

Reginald narrowed his eyes at his scribbled notations on Swann. “Where did you say this pharmacy was?”

“On Seventh.”

“Seventh and Pine?”

Five’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, why? Is that important?”

Something flashed across Reginald’s face, gone in the blink of an eye like it was never there.

“Did you learn anything about who his clients were? Is it possible his business was a front?”

“Not as far as I could tell,” Five said. “My best guess is it was about a client. The fire was centered on the file cabinet and computer. It spread fast. The whole building went up.”

Reginald sighed. “Disappointing, Number Five. That was our strongest lead.”

Five searched Reginald’s face. He could take the criticism. He had dropped the ball. He could admit that. That reaction though? It sure as hell hadn’t been disappointment. Whatever it had been was long gone now.

“You know something,” Five said.

“What more could I know than what you’ve shared?”

Five shook his head. “You’re always ahead of things. You knew the crossroad.”

“And from that, you’ve determined I’m withholding information? I was counting on you to prevent his death so that we could learn more from him,” Reginald chided. “That, I suppose, was my mistake. You’re absolutely certain there is nothing more you know about this man?”

Five clenched his jaw. “No. We’ll find another way. I can check out the ex-wife-”

“Don’t bother. You need to stay close.”

“What I need,” Five emphasized, “is to check in at the Academy. Make sure Hazel and Cha-Cha don’t make any connections.”

“No.”

Five raised his eyebrows. “No? Hazel and Cha-Cha-”

“Are looking for you. Going to the Academy would do nothing but draw them there. If you insist on protecting your siblings, the best thing to do is stay away. Or would you rather waste your time playing guardian to the Umbrella Academy instead of discovering how to stop the apocalypse?”

Five pursed his lips. It wasn’t a bad point. Going to the Academy would do nothing but put a target on his family’s back. Could he take that risk? They were together. Surely, they could protect one another.

Hazel and Cha-Cha’s presence meant the Commission was scared. Getting sidetracked now, so close to the end, wouldn’t help anyone. And…Reginald was holding something back. Five was sure of it. The closer he stayed, the better his chances of figuring it out.

“Fine,” he conceded. “I’ll stay here, then go out tomorrow to see what more we can learn about Swann. Happy?”

“Ecstatic. Pogo will update me if anything pressing arises at the Academy. You are dismissed for the time being. Get some rest. And eat some real food.”

Five grabbed another handful of trail mix as he left the room out of spite. He’d eat real food if and when he wanted to. He made his way to the kitchen, snagging a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet along the way. If he was forced to spend the night in, he might as well have a drink with dinner.

March 27, 2019

In an act of rebellion, Vanya had poured her pills down the kitchen sink.

They’d collectively decided it would be best to stay at the Academy for the time being. It felt safer somehow. Plus, Diego and Ben were worried that Pogo or Grace would stumble on Reginald’s notes and hide them away in a fit of loyalty – or programming, in Grace’s case. A legitimate fear, it turned out, when Pogo had found everyone sprawled across various furniture in the living room a few hours after Five left. He’d been surprised the notes were out, but not so much about their content.

And hadn’t that been a slap in the face? Pogo had known all about her powers and Five’s…whatever they wanted to call it. Assassin status? He’d scurried off pretty quickly, but it left a sour taste in her mouth. Another betrayal. Another family member who wasn’t who she thought he was.

So she tossed her pills. It had felt right at the time. A moment of empowerment. Diego had clapped her on the shoulder. Allison smiled at her in the mirror above the sink. Even Luther had given awkwardly supportive thumbs up from where he was hovering in the doorway.

Then Ben had come back from grabbing necessities from his apartment with Klaus and said words like “cold turkey” and “withdrawal” and things had felt a little less celebratory.

And now – barely a day later – she was noticing the difference. Everything felt loud. Honestly, everything …felt. The world was more vivid. Emotions that would have been ripples yesterday were tidal waves today. It was like a glass wall had stood between her and her emotions only to be slammed open and shattered beyond repair.

That didn’t even account for the turmoil caused by reading what Reginald had written about them as children.

A break. That was what she needed. Her head was starting to hurt, and she felt the beginnings of nausea. A pins-and-needles feeling was rising in her chest. She slipped away from her siblings, picked up her violin, and found an isolated corner of the Academy.

The texture of strings beneath her fingers and the wood of the bow was enough to ease the pounding in her head. A few notes of Bach and she was already feeling more herself. Whatever that meant now. She closed her eyes and let the music flow around her.

She’d spent a lot of time over the past day thinking about her childhood. How she’d always felt separated from the others. How she’d unknowingly been walled off from a piece of herself. Who would she be if she’d never taken the pills? Would she be confident like Allison? Skilled like Diego? Or would she be as broken as she felt now? Would her power try to kill her like Ben’s? Would she have wanted to escape it like Klaus?

Or maybe Reginald would have found another way to control her. Like he did with Five.

And that brought up the question that had been eating at her since the “you have powers, Vanya” revelation.

Did Five know?

He’d said Reginald hadn’t let him read the notes, and he’d certainly never given any indication that she was anything other than ordinary.

He hadn’t given any indication that he was an assassin either.

He’d been her confidante for so long. She liked to think she was his too, before the mess that was their adolescence. She’d listen when he needed to vent about training or their siblings; he’d sit while she played violin. Ben would join them sometimes. Five, Six, and Seven, in their own little world. At least for their 30 minutes of assigned free time.

Deep down, she knew Five would never keep such vital information from her.

But a sliver of her couldn’t help but wonder.

He’d been mad about the book. She hadn’t been kind to him. By the time she’d written it, they’d grown apart. His visits had become few and far between and, when he did come by, he was always gone by the end of the day. Which made sense now, but had been infuriating in the moment. Her frustration had built and built until one day it exploded outwards through the keys of a typewriter. Ben was the only one lucky enough to come out mostly unscathed. The treatment she’d given Five wasn’t nearly as bad as the others, but she hadn’t exactly held back either.

Except, unlike the others, Five had come to her about it instead of letting it fester. They’d talked everything out years ago in an hours-long amalgamation of conversation and argument that had been as cathartic as it had been exhausting.

Surely, he would have mentioned something after all that. He’d seemed so sincere.

Plus, as far as they could tell, the way Reginald was finally able to secure Five under his thumb was through the threat of their deaths via apocalypse. Five very clearly cared for them. He would kill for them. Became an assassin to save their lives. The only things Five truly kept to himself were his own: his activities, his whereabouts, his emotions.

God, what was wrong with their family?

Her bow skittered across the strings when the door to the room she’d sequestered herself in slammed open. The room was startlingly silent outside of Klaus’ heaving breaths and an odd rumbling.

“Oh, hey, there you are,” Klaus panted. He turned his head towards the hallway. “I found her!”

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Are you?” Klaus returned, looking at her like she was a spooked horse.

She frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You know, just, the house is…” he waved at the walls.

And suddenly the rumbling made sense. The windows were rattling. Some of the fixtures in the room swayed towards her.

She sat down heavily on the floor as the rest of her siblings piled into the room. She looked at Ben.

“Is this a normal symptom of withdrawal or…?”

Ben barked a surprised laugh and squatted down next to her. “Let’s see what we can figure out.”

March 28, 2019

What they’d figured out hadn’t been much. Reginald had given up on her training quickly enough that there wasn’t much to go on. There was evidence of what she could do and the beginnings of how she might control it, but not enough to put together a substantive plan of attack. They were flying blind, forced to rely on tricks the others had learned and see what would and wouldn’t work for Vanya. It was the equivalent of throwing darts at a board blindfolded.

Ben’s tips for emotional regulation ended up being the most helpful training any of them offered.

It wasn’t like they weren’t all still dealing with their own crises. Luther was still smarting from the revelation that Reginald was, in fact, not a good father figure. Diego was mad – when wasn’t he? – so it was hard to pinpoint where exactly he stood. It seemed like a mixture of wanting to be angry at them while realizing they were all a patented mess. Ben was angry because Klaus had somehow managed to sneak out and get high. Klaus, accordingly, was high. Five still hadn’t come back.

And Allison…Allison had guilt rolling off her like sweat on a summer day.

Vanya, in possession of a fledgling set of powers and an accurate definition of the term emotional roller coaster, oscillated between sympathetic and irritated. She knew it wasn’t Allison’s fault. They’d been kids. Barely old enough for memories to stick.

That didn’t matter when Allison had the bad luck to approach her in the living room when her emotional pendulum swung towards irritated.

“Hey, Vanya?” Allison said, knocking on the door frame and offering a small smile. “I was wondering if we could talk?”

She came in and sat down before Vanya could respond.

Typical, a voice said in the back of her head. Always assuming that because she’d asked permission, she’d be given it.

A headache pounded behind Vanya’s eyes. There was a crow outside that had been cawing like its life depended on it. The low buzz created by city traffic had graduated from mild annoyance to moderately agitating. She was scared to do the one thing that gave her solace for fear that she’d bring the whole Academy down with nothing but an antique violin and her feelings.

So, yes, while logically she knew it wasn’t Allison’s fault, all she could think was-

“You did this to me.”

Allison recoiled. “I’m so sorry, Vanya. I didn’t realize- I didn’t understand until we read the journals.”

“It all makes sense now,” Vanya said with an ugly laugh she didn’t recognize. “This is why you never wanted me around, right?”

“What? No!” Allison reached forward before thinking better of it and dropped her hands to her lap.

Part of Vanya’s mind echoed Allison’s sentiment. The rest of her didn’t get the memo.

“You couldn’t risk me threatening your place in the house. Your- your dominance.”

“You know that isn’t true!”

The anger kept coming, boiling over like an untended pot. It felt the same as it did when she was writing her book but multiplied tenfold. A rage that burned white hot – that would consume her if she didn’t let it out, no matter who it hurt in the process.

“You couldn’t handle the fact that I might be special,” Vanya seethed.

“You are special, with or without powers!”

“Don’t say that!”

“I mean it!” Allison insisted. “I’m sorry that this happened to you and that I was the one to do it. If I could go back and change it, I would.”

“You destroyed my life!”

A light fixture shattered. Allison staggered a few steps back with wide eyes.

“Shit,” Vanya whimpered. She heard footsteps thumping towards the room. The birds outside kept making noise. A car honked. Were clocks supposed to be so goddamn loud?!

Somehow, she’d ended up sitting on the couch, head in her hands, surrounded by her siblings. The wall rumbled around them.

Perhaps dumping all of her pills in one fell swoop had been poorly considered.

Ben was coaching her through breathing. Someone was rubbing a hand up and down her back. Probably Allison. Maybe Klaus, though she couldn’t smell cigarette smoke, so unlikely. Definitely not Diego or Luther. She tried to imagine either of them sitting next to her trying to soothe her and nearly snorted.

Allison doesn’t care about you, the voice in her head said, smaller this time.

“Vanya?” Allison said beside her. Ha, take that annoying head-voice. She had enough presence of mind to know her siblings. That was Allison’s Concerned Sister tone. And she had it for Vanya.

“I’m sorry,” Vanya said, coughing on a sob. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it.”

“I believe you,” Allison soothed. “Even if you did mean it, you would be totally justified. It’s okay.”

“Hey, Vanya, look at me,” Ben said. She looked up to find Ben knelt in front of her. He offered a small smile and held out his hands. She took them.

“Keep breathing with me. In two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Hold, two three, four.”

After a few more repetitions, the rattling stopped. An exhale came from the side of the room Luther was standing. Diego ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, that was exciting,” Klaus said.

Ben closed his eyes like he was dealing with a particularly frustrating child. “Klaus.”

Vanya exhaled a laugh and collapsed back against the couch.

“I think we deserve a break,” Klaus said. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the bath.”

Luther and Diego wandered off to do whatever Luther and Diego did in their spare time. Eat raw eggs? No, Luther at least would cook his. Maybe they were talking out their issues. Unlikely, but Vanya was pretty sure Luther had cried on Diego at some point after he’d taken down a bottle of Reginald’s good scotch by himself. Stranger things had happened.

Allison and Ben stuck by Vanya, sitting on either side of her on the couch. Vanya laid her head on Allison’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered after a while.

“I am too,” Allison responded. “We’ll get through this. Sisters?”

She held up her fist like she was offering an imaginary toast.

“Sisters,” Vanya said back, bumping Allison’s fist with her own.

There was a popping sound and a loud metallic thud from the front door.

“Did anybody else hear-”

And then there were two people with suits and animal masks standing in the doorway.

The fight was impressive, Vanya was sure. She’d spent most of it hidden in a corner, knees to her chest, eyes shut tight, hands over her ears while Ben tried to simultaneously cover her and keep her calm.

At some point, the smaller attacker approached them. Vanya screamed and sent the woman flying backwards.

Everything got hard to follow.

When the world came back into focus, Ben was once again knelt in front of her with Allison at her side. The chandelier was on the floor. Luther and Diego were out of sight.

“They’re okay. They’re fine,” Allison said. “Luther took a hit.” She gave a wary glance to the chandelier. “Diego went to get Mom and check if he’s okay. The people who attacked took off when the house started shaking.”

“Cowards,” Ben said with a smirk. “It’s like they’ve never dealt with errant powers before.”

“Don’t make me laugh right now,” Vanya groaned. “You could have died. Oh my god, we all could have died.”

It was a solid ten minutes before the room stopped rumbling and Vanya could breathe again.

She frowned and looked around. “Where’s Klaus?”

Ben’s eyes widened. He swung around and scanned the area.

“Klaus?” he shouted.

Nothing. He turned to Allison, who gave a helpless shake of her head.

“Shit.”

Chapter Text

March 29, 2019

Hazel took a bite of his doughnut, sending several chunks of sugar glaze into his lap. He set it down on a napkin draped over the car’s center console and brushed the sugar onto the dingy floor mats before going back to scanning the street in front of the Umbrella Academy.

The past few days had been weird – weirder than what constituted a typical day in the Commission Corrections department, which was saying something. The assignment had been off from the start. Their target? None other than Number Five Hargreeves, who had apparently defected and run off to 2019. Or maybe he’d been a double agent? Hazel had gotten distracted during the briefing reading the impressive list of kills in Number Five’s file. He’d known the kid was good, but seeing it laid out in front of him? Truly, a consummate professional.

Who could blame Five for defecting? The Commission docked pay for ridiculous infractions. Hazel’s own benefits package didn’t cover his medical needs. His wrist was killing him. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to afford to retire.

Yet here he was, working a mission that had been an absolute shitshow thus far. A pile of dead Commission hires at a doughnut shop, a strike that had only been successful because he and Cha-Cha had managed to grab one of Number Five’s brothers, and now a missing briefcase. Cha-Cha had yelled at him good and long for that.

At least he’d met Agnes.

He’d never wanted something for another person before. He wanted a lot of things for her.

She’d get none of them if the world ended. Which, according to their escaped hostage, was going to happen within the next few days unless Number Five had a say in it.

Yeah, the past few days had been weird.

Sometime between setting up to wait for a junkie to show up with stolen Commission property and finishing his second jelly doughnut, he made a decision.

The man in question appeared not long after, trudging towards the front gate with a dead-eyed stare and no briefcase in sight. Lost, discarded, or destroyed, most likely. It didn’t matter which anymore.

Hazel intercepted Klaus as he hit the stairs up to the door.

Klaus startled, then groaned. “Oh God, you? Just- just leave me alone. Let me go home.”

“You got it.”

Klaus barely had enough time for a questioning “huh?” before Hazel dragged him up the front stairs and rang the bell. Muffled voices and shuffling, then a young man of Asian descent opened the door. Hazel pulled Klaus into his side so he was clearly in view.

“I’ve come to volunteer.”

The man at the door stood open-mouthed before turning to Klaus. Klaus gave a helpless shrug. The man’s eyes lowered and rose again in what appeared to be a practiced assessment of his brother’s welfare.

“Sure,” the door-answerer said when he finished his scan. “Why not? Wouldn’t even be the weirdest thing to happen this week.” He opened the door wider to let them in. “I’m Ben, by the way.”

“Hazel. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that yet. You okay, Klaus?”

“Yeah, just…long night.”

The house somehow felt more chaotic than it had when Hazel had broken in the day before. Another one of Five’s brothers was in the middle of what sounded like a heated discussion with a woman Hazel assumed was his sister.

“I’m not rumoring anyone, Diego,” the woman said.

“Oh, come on,” Diego responded. “Getting one police officer to give us information-”

“I said no. There are better ways.”

“Are you kidding me?” Diego yelled. “What better ways? We’re on the goddamn clock. You know, maybe if you hadn’t been so set on not using your powers, our brother wouldn’t have been kidnapped by a pair of psychopaths.”

“What was I supposed to do?” the woman snapped.

“Literally anything, Allison!”

“I was holding my own perfectly fine. How was I supposed to know they’d go after Klaus?”

“Great. Got it. You won’t use your powers to help Klaus. What about the end of the world? What about Five? Actually, what about your daughter? You don’t want to help her?”

“Do not bring her into this,” Allison said, calm in a way that even Hazel could tell was dangerous. “She’s the reason I don’t use my powers anymore.”

“I’m sure Claire will be really proud you kept your moral high ground when she’s dead in the apocalypse.”

The dull thud of a punch resounded as Ben rounded the corner. Allison stormed out the back of the room, face turned away.

“Not productive, Diego,” Ben said.

“Yeah, well, wait- you!” Diego pointed at Hazel as he entered the room with Klaus.

“No,” Ben said, stopping Diego mid-charge with a hand to the chest. “He brought Klaus back and says he’s here to volunteer.”

“And you believe him?” Diego said, incredulous.

“He had the advantage. He could have come in guns blazing, and there’s no reason for him to return his kidnappee. We’ve been searching all night. We made zero progress. We weren’t going to find Klaus any time soon.”

“You were looking for me?” Klaus asked. He’d pulled himself out of Hazel’s grip and staggered a step away. There was an emptiness in his tone that hadn’t been present the day before.

“Of course we were,” Ben said with a frown. “Idiot.”

Hazel leaned down to Klaus’s ear. “Is this normal?”

“You’re asking me about normal? After yesterday?” Klaus paused. “It was yesterday, right?”

“It was. And point taken.” Hazel rose back up. “Like I said, I’ve come to volunteer. I left my partner and quit the Commission. Though, neither of them knows that at the moment, so time may be of the essence.”

“I’ll get the others,” Ben said. “Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

The others ended up being Allison, the ape man Hazel had fought the day before, and a small violinist sipping what smelled like lavender tea. They were a ragtag group if Hazel had ever seen one. Yet, they were surprisingly up-to-date on assassins and the apocalypse. The most blanks he’d had to fill in were around the Commission and Five’s connection to it.

“Corrections doesn’t get much in the way of information,” he said. “We get told what we need to know to complete the job, no more, no less. We don’t interact with one another outside of our partners, if we have one, but we know of each other. And Number Five? He was a legend. Recruited at age 15 and climbed the ranks faster than anyone had seen before.”

“So I take it the Commission doesn’t have pesky little things like child labor laws,” Klaus said, curled up in a chair gnawing on his thumbnail.

The corner of Hazel’s lips quirked up. “They do, actually. Commission Handbook Chapter 2 Subsection 6A: The minimum age for employment of minors is 14 years. The Commission must procure and keep on file a work permit or written training agreement with the minor’s guardian or proof of emancipation. It goes on. Number Five had all the paperwork. Someone signed off on him being there.”

“Dad,” Diego muttered.

Hazel shrugged. “From what you’ve described, I can’t imagine it would’ve been anyone else. There were whispers in management that Number Five – being young like he was – had a special clause in his contract that allowed him to visit home. He wouldn’t sign on without it and the Board wanted him enough that they agreed. The Handler, one of the higher-ups, she took him under her wing. It’s impressive that he was able to hide the fact that he was working with your father from her, much less the Board. Double-crossing the Commission is next to impossible. That he’s survived this long speaks to how adept he is in his training.”

“Fanboy over our brother later,” Diego said. “How do we deal with this?”

“He’s an impressive agent, that’s all,” Hazel defended. Diego raised an eyebrow. “The Commission will be working to pull the apocalypse trigger – whatever it may be – and to stop Number Five from getting in their way. I don’t know what the trigger is, but I assume Number Five is close if Cha-Cha and I were called in. The Handler likely knows her best bet at stopping him is through you. I suggest we move you to a secondary location. If Cha-Cha and I could find you, so can the rest of the Commission. With you protected, I may be able to run interference to allow Number Five the time to find the cause and stop it.”

“We don’t need protection,” Allison argued. “We need to help Five.”

“Then buy yourselves some time,” Hazel responded. “Delay the Commission. Give yourselves a chance to regroup and get to Number Five.”

“We don’t have anywhere else to go,” Luther said. “Unless we want to go to Vanya’s apartment or Diego’s boiler room.”

“My boiler room is cozy,” Diego said, defensive.

Klaus patted him on the leg. “I’m sure it is.”

“I think someone would notice if we all piled into Vanya’s apartment,” Ben said.

“It’s not a defensible position,” Luther pointed out. “There are too many civilians.”

“Out of the city,” Hazel suggested. “Someplace you can’t be traced to. I have a- a friend who talks a lot about a bird sanctuary. There’s a lake near it with cabins. She has her eye on a few, but they tend to get bought up by rich folks to spend their summers there. This time of year, it’s pretty quiet. They’re isolated. Have some distance from each other. I’m sure we can find one that’s unoccupied.”

“Luckily, we have someone who can vacate it for us if it’s not,” Diego said, sending Allison a pointed look. Allison gave a hard stare back, but didn’t deny it.

Vanya set her tea down. “We need to tell Five.”

“Number Five can take care of himself, at least for another day,” Hazel said.

“He needs to know what’s going on,” Vanya insisted.

A gust of wind scattered papers across the room. Odd. Hazel peeked around. He’d closed the door when he came in. The house was old, but sturdy. Not the type of building he’d expect more than a draft in.

“He will,” Hazel continued, still eying the room. “Later. Until then, he’s perfectly capable-”

“No,” Vanya snapped, “we need to help him now!”

Another gust of wind, this time enough that Hazel stumbled a step forward. Off to the side, several window panes cracked.

“What was that?” Hazel asked when he regained his footing. No one else seemed surprised. Luther was wrangling papers while the others sent varying looks of concern towards Vanya.

“Shit, sorry,” Vanya said.

Allison put a hand on her knee. “You’re fine.”

“Focus on your breathing,” Ben murmured.

Vanya took a breath and let it out. The room settled.

“You’re getting better at that,” Ben said with a smile.

Vanya didn’t return it. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Um, maybe…just, things are really stressful right now…maybe I should call and get a refill of my pills.”

“What?” Allison said. “Vanya, no!”

Vanya heaved an exhausted sigh. “I can’t keep losing control every time I have an emotion. I hate not feeling anything. Hate it. But we have other problems we need to prioritize. We shouldn’t be worrying about the fact that I have powers I can’t control. Not when there’s an apocalypse happening and an organization of time-travelling assassins trying to kill our brother.”

A clap of thunder. Rain started pounding outside

“See?” Vanya continued. “We can figure out a way to wean me off them afterwards.”

Hazel frowned. The mention of pills raised all kinds of red flags. Puzzle pieces started shifting, moving together.

“May I ask what these pills are?” he asked.

“None of your business,” Diego returned.

Vanya sent him a flat look. “It’s not a secret. Not anymore. Can one of you explain? I’m calling in a refill.”

The siblings glanced between each other before settling on Ben. Ben sighed. “Vanya recently learned that she has powers. Our dad decided they were too dangerous when we were kids and hid them from her. The pills kept them under control. Probably did all kinds of other shit too. She hasn’t taken any for a couple of days now.”

Hazel nodded vaguely. “So the weather and the window and the house shaking…”

“Are her powers starting to manifest.”

Hazel let out a low whistle. “Your dad sure is a piece of work.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Diego scoffed.

“Not to pry,” Hazel started, “but the pharmacy your sister uses doesn’t happen to-”

Allison shot to her feet and moved to the door. “Vanya? What’s wrong?”

Vanya stood holding the frame taking measured breaths. She was considerably paler than she’d been before.

“My pharmacist is dead,” she said distantly. “The building caught on fire. He didn’t make it out. They said there’s an investigation to see if it was arson. And if he was dead before the fire.”

“Jesus,” Klaus whispered under his breath.

“They’re moving all of us to different providers, but there was a mix-up. Mine can’t be refilled until April 4th at the earliest.”

Hazel cleared his throat. “I hate to add stress to an already stressful situation, but the Commission sent out a corrections team to take care of a pharmacist. Lester Swann?” Vanya paled further. It was answer enough. “Number Five blew his cover and stole the order. Went AWOL. That’s why Cha-Cha and I got called in.”

“Meaning it was probably apocalypse-related,” Luther said.

Hazel gave an affirmative nod.

“That could be anything,” Allison said with a desperate air. “This Lester Swann guy could have been involved in- in something under the table. How many clients does he have? It could be any of them, right?”

“What are the chances of that?” Vanya asked, eyes locked on Hazel.

“The Commission usually specializes in small changes to create a domino effect. For a job this important, though, they’d likely get as close to the source as they could. I’m sorry, but I think we found our apocalypse trigger.”

“Shit,” Diego murmured.

The revelation settled like a concrete block at the bottom of a river. Hazel gave them a moment. Truthfully, he needed a moment too. If Vanya was the trigger, the most prudent step would be to take her out of the equation. It would be easy. He had their trust. All he had to do was get close enough. Snap her neck. Make it quick.

Vanya sniffled, quiet, like she was trying to keep it to herself. Allison pulled her into a fierce hug. On the other side of the room, Luther was staring at his sisters with a lost expression. Diego stared at the floor, fidgeting with a knife. A hand reached over and latched onto his thigh. Klaus. The two brothers shared a look of uncertainty that shifted into resoluteness. Hazel had seen that look before. In the rare cases he wasn’t able to get his targets alone, when there were loved ones in the way, that was the expression they got before they threw themselves into the line of fire.

Sure, Hazel could take out Vanya. But who was to say the Commission didn’t have a back-up option? Vanya’s death could light another fuse. Not to mention he would lose his allies in the process. Number Five would most certainly come for him. If the kid found out about Agnes? Best case scenario, he’d use her as leverage. Worst case, revenge.

No. The wiser move was to stick with the devil he knew.

“That makes it all the more important for us to move,” Hazel said as gently as he could. “The Commission will attack you. If they determine their primary objective is under threat, they’ll send their full forces to secure it. If you want to lower civilian casualties, we shouldn’t be in the city any longer than we have to be.”

“Didn’t you say they were careful about killing people?” Luther asked. “Wouldn’t it harm the timeline for people to die?”

Hazel shook his head. “They won’t care. This close to an end-of-days, everyone is doomed anyway. It’ll be a free-for-all.”

“Does Dad know?” Vanya asked. “Is that why he…”

“No, he can’t know,” Diego said.

Vanya stared at him. “Why not?”

“He’d have kept a closer eye.” He hesitated, eyes darting around to his siblings like he was bracing for something. “And he would have sent Five by now.”

Allison kept an arm wrapped around her sister. “Five would never hurt Vanya.”

“Are we sure about that?” Diego shot back. “Can we take the risk?”

“Yes. Five needs to know,” Vanya said. She still had a distant look about her- shock, most likely. It made the statement no less firm. “He’s out there risking his life to protect us. He’s been working towards this for years. He can help.”

“He’s been working on it by killing people,” Diego snapped. “He’ll tell Dad, and who knows how that’ll go over? We all read what he’s had Five do. I don’t think Five would harm any of us without reason, but to stop the apocalypse? Do we really think Dad can’t convince him the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?”

“I agree with Diego,” Luther said.

Everyone gawked, no one more than Diego. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I agree with you,” Luther repeated. “About Five telling Dad. It’s what I would have done before I knew about…everything. I don’t think I would have killed anyone, but I probably would’ve done something if Dad said it was for the greater good. We have to prepare for the eventuality that they’ll come after us.”

“I still don’t think Five would hurt us,” Vanya said.

“Agreed,” Allison added.

“For what it’s worth,” Hazel said, “I’d recommend against leaving Number Five out. From what I can gather, he’s fixated on you all. Everyone at the Commission knows that you don’t talk about Number Five’s family.”

“He hasn’t shown it,” Luther said. “We haven’t seen him since before we found out about Vanya.”

“Because he knows where you all are,” Hazel said. “If you go missing, I doubt he would stop searching until he found you.”

“Assuming we can trust him – which we don’t know we can – how do you propose we contact him, huh?” Diego asked. “We don’t exactly have a forwarding number.”

And that- that was a decent point.

Silence.

“What are the chances Pogo is spying on us for Dad?” Klaus finally said. He’d been so quiet Hazel had almost forgotten he was there.

“High,” Ben said.

“Do you think Pogo will pass a message to Five for us?” Luther asked.

Klaus barked a laugh. “Absolutely not. I think Pogo will notice us packing and say something to Dad and Dad will send his favorite spatial-jumping son to check what we’re up to.” Klaus tipped his head side-to-side. “Or we’ll disappear and Fivey will panic and hunt us down. Either way works.”

“That’s…surprisingly insightful,” Luther said, brow furrowed.

Klaus shrugged. “Had a hell of a night. We do probably have to worry about Five tattletaling though. If he thinks it will help us. And we all know how Reggie can screw with our heads.” He made a flapping gesture around his hair.

“Thank you,” Diego said, throwing a hand in the air.

“So we convince him Dad isn’t working in our best interest,” Allison said. “He’s already on our side. All we have to do is prove to him that Dad isn’t.”

“How quickly do you think you can do that?” Hazel asked.

“Once we show him Dad’s been lying about Vanya? Probably pretty quick,” Ben said. “It’s his reaction to that we need to worry about. It’ll bring into question the one solid, consistent relationship he’s had directing him since he was 13. He’ll need support, whether he shows it or not.”

“Then we support him,” Allison said. Her tone brooked no argument, nor did the glare she sent at Luther and Diego. Luther wilted under it; Diego clenched his jaw but gave a stiff nod.

“Great,” she continued. “Let’s start packing. Meet back down here in an hour. A family vacation to the lake sounds lovely.”

Almost exactly one hour later, Diego was pacing the sitting room. They’d gathered Reginald’s notes into a box and put it in the ready-to-go-to-the-car pile. Pogo had taken Grace and gone to a safer location across town. It wasn’t likely the Commission would attack if their catalyst wasn’t there. For once, though, Diego was willing to play it safe.

It was probably the only safe thing they’d do for a while.

So far, Luther, Klaus, and Hazel had made it to the living room rendezvous. They’d kept Hazel out of Pogo’s view. He’d asked to use the phone briefly while Luther convinced Pogo to leave. Diego had caught a few bits of soft conversation about vegan doughnuts and birds before he’d slunk away to pack food.

Diego still wasn’t sold on the whole plan, if they could call it that. Five was his brother. He wanted him out of their father’s grasp as much as the rest of them, but he wasn’t blind to the fact that Five had been working for Reginald for years now. Part of him didn’t think Five would threaten any of them, much less Vanya. A much louder part was screaming that, whatever hold their father had over Five, it wouldn’t be broken through the power of love or whatever Disney shit his siblings seemed to think would happen. No, it would break with the knowledge of Reginald’s lies and manipulation. It would be ugly and jagged, and did any of them really know Five well enough to predict how he would react?

Except…

He’d come to several of Diego’s fights over the years. More than most of their siblings bothered to. He’d be a dick about it, but he’d make sure Diego had ice for his injuries and food in the fridge. If he did that for Diego – someone he’d never been particularly close to growing up – he must do it with the others as well. Even Diego could admit that Five seemed to have an attachment that meant he was more on their side than their father’s.

And something about giving up and abandoning Five with Reginald didn't sit right. Five was still one of them. He’d spent years keeping track of them, checking in on them, fighting for them.

Maybe it didn’t matter what got Five away from Reginald.

Maybe all that mattered was that they fought for him too.

A flash of light and an accompanying familiar thwump. Speak of the devil.

“Hey, what are you morons up to?” Five yelled from the entryway. “Why are you sending Pogo away?”

“Called it,” Klaus murmured with a half-hearted fist pump.

Luther and Hazel shot to their feet as Five stepped into the room. Five stopped short and gaped.

“You!”

Hazel cringed. “That seems to be a popular reaction to me in your family- shit!”

He ducked behind the couch. Two knives hit their mark in the wall behind the spot his chest had been moments before. Jesus, where had Five pulled knives from?

“No, no, no,” Luther was saying, arms waving in front of him. Five stalked deeper into the room. “He’s on our side!”

“I’m not here to hurt them, I swear,” Hazel said, muffled by the couch he was still huddled behind.

“I don’t believe you,” Five seethed.

Diego stepped in front of him. Five jerked back a step and aimed the knife he was holding downwards. “He’s telling the truth.”

Five’s eyes flit to Hazel’s hiding place, then Luther then back Diego. “He’s lying to you.”

“He’s not,” Diego assured. The kid chewed on his lip, one of the few tells of uncertainty that Diego had identified in his younger brother. Diego took a breath. “It’s Dad who’s been lying.”

He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as he said it. Five straightened, resolve returning full force. He leaned around Diego. “What have you been telling them, Hazel? What’s your play?”

“Nothing! I mean, I told them about the Commission, but nothing about your father-”

Luther lunged for Five’s arm just as Five threw yet another knife. Diego redirected it with a flick of his wrist. It landed with a thunk in the ceiling. Before either of them could do more, Five blinked away. Hazel poked his head out from behind the couch.

Luther swung around. “Look out!”

Five appeared behind Hazel and smashed a vase over his head. Hazel staggered. Luther was between them before Five could do more damage. The kid snarled and disappeared again. Hazel got to his feet and assumed a fighting stance.

Much as Diego hated to admit it, the chances of him and Luther stopping Five were low. In a short, targeted attack, he could dodge whatever Diego threw at him and use Luther’s size to his advantage. If he would listen for a second…. As if that would happen. Five was as stubborn as the rest of them. The only one who was a real threat to him was-

“Klaus!” Diego shouted over the sound of a shattering lamp. Klaus turned to him with deer-in-headlights eyes from the corner he’d shoved himself into. He was holding tight to the dog tags he’d been fiddling with since he got back. “Go get Allison. Now.”

Klaus looked back and forth a few times before hybrid groan-whining and taking off at a sprint.

Allison was probably in her room. They just had to hold Five off for a couple of minutes. Six max, if she was somewhere else in the house and somehow didn’t hear the ruckus.

Luther crashed into a coffee table. Hazel was bleeding from a deep cut across his forearm, a sacrifice block that had likely saved him from a chest wound.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Five yelled at Luther.

“Then don’t,” Luther shot back.

Diego dove into the fight.

Two minutes. Six max.

Three minutes later, Five was finally showing signs of tiring. He was good – always had been – but his attack style depended on overcoming his enemy with a quick onslaught. He wasn’t built for long fights. Not that he couldn’t more than hold his own. A longer fight at least evened the playing field. Plus, he was very clearly aiming for non-lethal hits on his brothers, if he aimed to hit at all. Hazel wasn’t as lucky. He’d earned an array of injuries that may well have killed a normal man.

Five lunged at Hazel again. Hazel intercepted and knocked him away. Five hit a chair and rolled over it, landing back on his feet.

“Why won’t you go down?!” he snarled.

Hazel shook out his shoulders, panting. He’d put himself by a wall, blocking off one of Five’s potential angles of attack. “Got something to fight for now.”

As Five stepped forward again, Klaus flew back into the room, arms pinwheeling to keep himself from falling when his forward momentum slowed.

“We’re here! We’re here!”

Behind him, Allison’s winded voice started “I heard a-”

Five threw himself backwards and disappeared.

“Dammit,” Allison muttered.

It would’ve been a problem if they hadn’t spent years training together as kids. Sure, they were rusty – it had been ages – but every one of them had fought together enough to recognize the others’ strategies.

Luther edged towards Hazel’s side. Five popped into existence, swinging yet another knife – seriously, where we he getting all these knives?! – towards Hazel’s throat. Luther, without hesitation, reached around and slammed Five’s head against the wall.

Five went down. The knife clattered to the floor next to him. Hazel kicked it away. It spun under the remains of a couch.

“Luther!” Allison chastised.

“What was I supposed to do? He’s slippery!”

Five groaned and flopped to his back in an uncoordinated roll, arm flailing out like it didn’t belong to the body it was connected to. The other hand held his head where it had smashed into the wall. He didn’t look like he was fully aware of where he was.

Allison maneuvered around several broken chairs, shoes crunching over the remains of the lamp and vase, before kneeling next to Five. She put a hand on his cheek and turned his head towards her. He blinked at her hazily. She gave a sad smile.

“I heard a rumor you stopped fighting us and came with us willingly.”

His eyes fluttered and turned white. His arm stopped moving like a severed tentacle and dropped to his side. Luther pulled him to his feet and helped him stagger to a seat. Klaus plopped down next to him. Five swayed, but made no move to attack.

“Don’t murder me,” Klaus said as he reached around Five’s face. “I’m just going to check…”

He pushed Five’s bangs to the side and hissed, then began a careful examination of the swollen bump on his forehead. It was hard to tell if Five’s docility was because of the rumor or the head trauma.

“How long will that rumor hold?” Diego asked.

Allison looked pained. “Until we get to where we’re going.”

Diego watched as Klaus probed Five’s head and checked his pupils. Five continued to stare into the middle-distance.

“Well, you better start thinking of a good follow-up during the drive.”

Chapter Text

Despite Diego's snide request, Allison was not thinking of another rumor. She wouldn't do that to Five again. Not unless she absolutely had to.

Five had stayed uncharacteristically quiet as they’d piled into cars, then – miracle of miracles – fell asleep during the drive. Though maybe it was less a miracle and more fatigue and a solid knock to the head. Klaus continued to fuss over him. Every few minutes, his fingers would dance over Five’s temple. He’d re-check that Five’s pupils weren’t dilated, make sure the kid was comfortable, occasionally take his pulse.

There was something different about Klaus since his dramatic return from being kidnapped. He’d been tight-lipped aside from insisting he was fine, and none of them had had a chance to talk to him about it yet between Hazel’s arrival, the whole Vanya-apocalypse bombshell, and abducting their younger brother. Jesus, it was technically abduction, wasn’t it?

What a mess.

Regardless, no one stopped Klaus from checking on their brother like a particularly fastidious doctor on rounds. If nothing else, his fussing was enough that Five clumsily swatted at him a few times, proving the head trauma hadn’t dropped him into a coma. It seemed like everything had just…caught up to him. Once his body went down, it must have taken full opportunity to rest.

They’d found a vacant space easily enough and set Five up in one of the bedrooms. Luther was tasked with keeping an eye on Hazel in case he wasn’t as trustworthy as he seemed. They’d all agreed Allison would keep her distance from him. Give her enough time to throw a rumor if he betrayed them. That was fine. She would rather focus on Five anyway. The rest of them took shifts in Five’s newly appointed room. God knows, the kid would wake up and disappear on them if they didn’t.

He was going to be pissed she’d rumored him. Hell, he already seemed halfway there. He was pale, had gone too many jumps without re-fueling. The bump on his head where it had bounced off the wall was turning purple. He didn’t even look like he was resting.

As she sat with a fidgety Klaus, the thought struck her that Five shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be passed out in a stranger’s bed. He shouldn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders, the weight of the responsibility of single-handedly saving his family. He shouldn’t know what it was like to kill or how to navigate organizational politics. He was 19 years old. He should be finishing his first year of college. Learning what it’s like to stand on his own in the world. Experimenting with hobbies. Having fun.

The rest of them got to have a life. Five deserved that too.

Morning came like any other, with rose-tinged streaks of clouds and frost-sparkling grass of late March. It felt wrong. As if the world should be somehow fundamentally different after the crush of revelations that had come down on their family. And yet, miles away, people were getting up for work. Across the country, her daughter was sleeping. Life pressed on.

Clinking and clanging started up in the kitchen. Not long after, Vanya trotted in with a cup of tea.

“Ben’s trying to put together breakfast with whatever Diego raided from the Academy’s kitchen. You should eat something.”

Allison offered a wan smile. “Thank, V.”

Ben was whisking a bowl of eggs when Allison wandered in. “Need any help?”

“Mind cutting up some vegetables?” he responded, gesturing at a bag on the counter.

The chopping was a nice distraction, plus it gave them the opportunity to brainstorm what they would say to Five. Everyone had agreed that they would be the two to handle The Conversation. Too many of them would feel like an intervention, which would no doubt put Five on the defensive. Ben had been a natural choice with his background and training. Allison had been more hesitant. She wanted to help Five – felt a desperation deep in her chest to reconnect and be a halfway decent sister – but Vanya deserved to tell her own story. Except she had shied away when they’d asked, said she’d rather talk to him afterwards on her own. Allison didn’t know what to make of it, but she wasn’t going to force the issue. She’d done enough of that already.

Ben had just finished cooking when Klaus yelped from the bedroom.

“Shit, he’s awake!” Vanya yelled.

Allison looked across the counter in time to see Five stumble out of a jump into the living room. He caught himself on the couch, face scrunched in pain and hand on his head. Because of course he’d try to jump with no regard for his physical state. Allison wiped her hands, then strode over and guided Five to sit on the couch.

Vanya rushed into the room. “If you’d waited two seconds, I could have given you Advil.”

Five grunted and held out his hand. Vanya stepped over and shook out a couple of pills, then handed him a glass of water. Diego and Klaus hovered on the outskirts of the room. Ben pushed past them with a makeshift breakfast bowl.

“How about everyone give us some space, yeah?” he said.

Klaus stared at Ben, then Five, then back to Ben with a dramatic sigh. “I have something I need to try out anyway. Let me know when things inevitably go off the rails.”

When he was gone, Ben turned to Diego and jerked his head in the direction Klaus had disappeared. Diego sighed. “I’ll go see what he’s up to, I guess. Try not to let anyone get stabbed. The little shit likes knives.”

Five flipped him the bird without looking up. Diego returned it as he followed Klaus upstairs.

“I’ll just, um…go make sure Luther is okay,” Vanya said.

Once she was gone, Ben nudged at Five. When Five leaned back, Ben handed him the breakfast bowl. Five stared down at it, unimpressed. “You’re all assholes. This doesn’t make up for knocking me senseless, then rumoring me.”

“It’s not meant to,” Ben said. “You need to eat something. You used your powers a lot and you were obviously exhausted.”

Five stabbed at the food and took a bite, glowering at Ben all the while. Who knew it was possible to belligerently consume scrambled eggs?

“There are things you need to know,” Ben started.

“What, some bullshit Hazel spouted?” Five responded as he chewed. “He was lying to you. Trying to get close. To use you as leverage against me. Where is he, by the way?”

“Luther is watching him. We’re not complete idiots. And he’s not lying. Not about anything we need to talk about.”

He took another slow bite. “You can tell me after I check in with Dad. Where the hell are we anyway? The trip is a little fuzzy,” he said, shooting a scowl at Allison.

“I’m sorry I rumored you,” Allison said. “I’m not sorry you’re with us though.”

Five sent a venomous smile. “Who doesn’t love a good family kidnapping?”

“Why is it important for you to check in with Dad?” Ben cut in.

“Why wouldn’t I-” he paused and narrowed his eyes at Ben, “wait, are you kidding me? We’re in the final countdown to the apocalypse and you’re gonna psychoanalyze me? Right now?”

“I work more in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. And I’m way too close to this to be able to offer you anything approaching what you need. I’m just here to talk to you. As your brother.”

“And your sister,” Allison added.

“Or you’re going to unknowingly delay me so Dad and I can’t stop the apocalypse. Which I’m sure is Hazel’s plan.”

“Hazel left the Commission” Ben said. “He’s claiming he wants to stop the apocalypse. I got the impression he found someone he wants to stay with.”

Five stared at him blankly, then shifted to Allison.

“He’s in love, Five,” Allison said.

It took a moment to set in, then, “Bullshit.”

“Hear us out,” she responded. “If you’re still not convinced after you have all the information, we’ll listen to what you have to say.”

“But not otherwise, huh? How do I know you’re not here to rumor me again if I don’t cooperate?” he sneered.

She’d volunteered for this, Allison reminded herself. They knew Five would lash out. This was exactly what they’d expected. It didn’t quell the growing sisterly instinct to shove him out a window.

“I’m pretty sure I could rumor you right now and there would be absolutely nothing you could do about it,” she said with an exaggerated smile. “And I’m here so I can support you, you little brat.”

“I don’t need your support, Allison,” Five returned. “I need to stop the world from ending.”

“Then let us help you,” she said.

Five shook his head violently enough that he had to stop to rub his temple with a wince. “All of you should stay away from this mess. I need you safe.”

The admission looked like it was pulled from him with pliers. The shove-him-out-the-window instinct gave way to give-him-a-hug. She resisted the urge. Best to avoid getting stabbed before they got to the important bits.

“That doesn’t sound much like Dad,” Ben teased.

“It’s not,” Five shot back. “He wanted the Umbrella Academy reunited to help stop the apocalypse. I disagreed.”

“That’s why you helped Dad fake his death?” Ben cut in. “To bring us back together. To keep us safe.”

Five shrugged. “Worked, didn’t it?” He shoved more food in his mouth.

Allison frowned. “There was a coroner’s report.”

“Not hard to pay off a coroner, believe it or not.”

Ben huffed a laugh. “So, did you stash him in a cabin up state or a penthouse across the city?”

Five allowed a sly smile to cross his face. “Penthouse. You really think Dad would do well in a cabin in the middle of nowhere?”

Ben chuckled. “It would certainly be a sight to see.”

As they sobered, he shot Allison a short nod. A signal, of sorts. Allison scooted closer to Five. Five eyed her before taking another wary bite. Despite talking with Ben beforehand, this whole discussion felt like jumping on stones across a river, never sure which would be stable and which would topple you into the water. She didn’t want to make a mistake. Not when the stakes were so high.

“How many people did he have you kill?” Ben asked, gently as he could.

“Dad? A little more than 60. Through my work at the Commission?” He hesitated. “More.”

Allison closed her eyes. That was a lot of people.

“And despite all that, we’re still here,” Ben said. “With an apocalypse imminent. Did the things he had you do really affect what you wanted them to? Or did they satisfy his whims?”

Five’s fork clinked as he scooped the last of his food up and set the bowl aside. “We’ll never know. Maybe I slowed it down. Maybe what we did made it preventable instead of inevitable. Maybe I opened a door that was locked tight before. My entire life is centered around calculating probabilities of events. If you think you’re going to convince me of anything with what-ifs, you’ve already lost. None of you recognize the danger you’re in.”

“The apocalypse,” Ben said matter-of-factly. “And an agency of time-travelling assassins set on making sure it happens. Anything else?”

If the situation weren’t so serious, Allison would laugh at how Five’s jaw clenched. “If you want to be basic about it, I guess that covers it. Is there a point to this? Because if there is, I’d like to get to it while I’m still young.”

“What if what Dad thinks will help isn’t actually what’s best for us?”

“Like I said, what-ifs are my thing, not yours.”

“You dislike him as much as the rest of us,” Ben added.

“And that will matter as soon as the apocalypse is averted.”

“He’s been lying to you,” Ben argued. “To all of us.”

Five huffed. “Diego tried that already. Whatever Hazel told you, it was to gain your trust. I’ve seen Commission agents do it before with tough targets.”

“Hazel didn’t tell us anything. We found this out before that. Right after you left, actually. In Dad’s notes.”

Five’s brow furrowed before shifting back to neutrality. “I’m listening.”

“Vanya has powers.”

Allison didn’t realize how open Five’s expression had been until he shut down. He went from curious to murderous in the span of half a second.

“Don’t joke about that,” he snarled.

“We wouldn’t,” Allison said quickly. “We’re not that cruel.”

“It’s in Dad’s notes,” Ben said. “We found out when we went through them.”

“You’re being absolutely serious right now?” Five asked.

“Absolutely serious,” Ben confirmed.

“Cross my heart,” Allison said, making a cross over her chest like she did with Claire.

Five worked his jaw a few times. “Where?”

Ben gestured to the box of Reginald’s notes nestled in the corner. Five appeared next to it, already sitting, and started digging through them. Allison stood and patted Ben on the shoulder before they joined him.

“Show me,” Five said, scanning the pages.

Ben picked up the red notebook and flipped to the right page. Five snatched it back and started reading. The room was silent outside of the whispers of turning pages. Diego was trapsing around upstairs, hopefully with Klaus. The others must be outside. Luther and Hazel had both wanted to get a sense of the perimeter of the house. It had been too dark when they arrived. Now that it was morning, they were likely getting the lay of the land, presumably with Vanya in tow.

Five closed the book carefully set it in the box of notes.

"Five?" Allison ventured when he didn’t say anything.

"Just...give me a minute." He picked up the journal and flipped through it again. When he was finished, he ran a hand down his face. "Is she okay?"

“She’s getting by,” Allison said. “She dumped her pills. It’s been hard. There have been some…episodes. If she gets angry or upset, things get dicey. She’s learning though. We’re helping her. You can too.”

"Her pills,” Five mumbled, eyes darting like he was running calculations. “That was how Dad was keeping her powers at bay. Shit, I need to check something.”

“Is it about her pharmacist?” Ben asked. Five froze. “Hazel knew about the Commission order you stole.”

“Right,” Five murmured.

“You were looking into him, weren’t you?” Ben pushed. “Lester Swann? That’s where you’ve been since the day of the funeral.”

Five stood up and started pacing, eyes tinged with the beginnings of dread. “There was nothing. Nothing to link him to anything nefarious or apocalyptic. It had to be one of his clients. But it can’t be Vanya.”

“You were on this for days. What are the chances there’s something else you missed?”

"Goddammit," Five said. Then, "GODDAMMIT!" The journal sailed across the room and slammed against the opposite wall. Five was back to pacing before it hit the floor. “He knew! That bastard knew the second I told him where Swann worked, and he kept me away!”

“Dad knows?” Ben asked, shooting a worried glance at Allison. That was new. They’d assumed that if Five didn’t know, Reginald wouldn’t either. If Reginald had known about Vanya for days, why hadn't he made a move? What was his play?

“He keeps track of shit like that,” Five responded distantly. “Your doctors, pharmacists, whatever.”

“I’m sorry, he what now?” Allison said.

But Five wasn’t paying attention, fists clenching so tightly it had to be painful.

“Hey, how about you take a second,” Ben tried.

“He sent me on a wild goose chase to keep me from finding out. Because- because he knew I wouldn’t hurt Vanya.”

Five’s pacing was frantic now, his face flashing through emotions like a child flipping through tv channels.

He looked livid.

He also looked lost.

“Five, stop and take a breath,” Ben instructed, this time with more force.

Five barked an ugly laugh. “Take a breath? He’s been using me for years, and you want me to take a goddamn breath?! I knew he was keeping me in the dark, but this?”

“You know now,” Ben said, voice even.

“You don’t need Dad,” Allison added. “We can help you stop the apocalypse. Together”

Five pulled back. The emotions from before were smothered with something sharp. Dangerous. “Help stop it together? You all can barely manage your own lives. The last mission Luther screwed up got him stuck with an ape body. Diego lives in a shithole ‘fighting crime’.” He made possibly the most sarcastic air quotes of all time. “Klaus is Klaus. Ben can't use his powers without dying. Vanya- Vanya apparently has uncontrolled apocalyptic-level powers. And you? Allison, you could barely keep custody your own kid. Why would I ever trust any of you to save yourselves from an apocalypse?”

The words settled like lead. After a few seconds of silence, Five seemed to realize what he’d said. His expression shifted from furious to hunted. She watched him watching her, biting her tongue. It was better than crying. Or punching him through a wall.

Before anyone could say more, he stepped into a portal and disappeared.

“Allison-” Ben started.

Allison held up her hand. “It’s fine. We knew he’d probably lash out.”

“That doesn’t make it hurt less.”

“It doesn’t.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “That could have gone better.”

“It could have gone worse. No one is bleeding. I think we can safely say Five won’t be running to Dad. He’s probably off licking his wounds.”

“We need to find him, don’t we?” Allison said.

“Maybe we leave that to Luther and Diego. I think we might need some space from him. How about you grab a cup of tea and I’ll join you on the porch in a few minutes?”

Allison smiled, though she knew it didn’t reach her eyes. “That sounds good. Make sure Luther doesn’t knock him out on a wall or something.”

Ben smirked. “Will do.”

The sun had long ago crested the trees, sending golden streaks of light across the field behind the house. Five had a good view of it. The best view, one could argue.

“Five?” Luther called below.

Five pulled his knees closer to his chest, away from the edge of the roof.

He wasn’t sure whether he wanted them to find him or not. Probably not. He’d hurt them enough already, pulled out the knives Reginald had stuck in his back and threw them straight at Allison and Ben. They didn’t deserve it. He hadn’t been able to stop himself. Emotions he hadn’t felt since he was 13 were swelling, cresting over mental barriers he hadn’t known he’d constructed and bursting out with no regard for anyone in their path.

They came in waves, a familiar sense of apathy trying to smother them. For the first time, it wasn’t working.

Shock, anger, confusion, betrayal, loss – all overlaid with dread at the idea of his family being anywhere near the apocalypse.

Every bit of control he’d thought he had over the past several years had disappeared in the span a conversation. He’d done everything - everything - to keep them away. To keep them safe. How was he supposed to protect them if they were at the center of it? If Vanya was the cause?

Footsteps thumped behind him.

“You’re a hard man to find, Number Five.”

“That was kind of the point,” Five responded. “Should’ve known it would be you. You’re as competent as the Commission network makes you out to be.”

Hazel made his way down the roof towards Five. “I could say the same about you.” Five turned to halfway face him. He hovered a few feet behind, fidgeting. “Can I just say, I really admire your work. That job you did in Calhoun? That shit is legendary. Can’t believe I’m actually standing here talking to you. Honestly, it was an honor having you attempt to murder me.”

Five snorted. “Glad someone enjoyed it. What do you want?”

“May I?” Hazel said, gesturing at the space near Five.”

“Please,” Five responded with a nod.

Hazel sat down, close enough to talk, but out of swinging range. Wise man, though it wouldn’t make a difference if powers got involved. “Maybe I just wanted to talk to someone else who abandoned the Commission.”

“So you really did leave. You’re trying to stop the apocalypse.”

“Like I said before, I have something to fight for now.”

Five stared out at the trees. “Someone you love?”

A soft smile broke over Hazel’s face. He ducked his head, sheepish. “Yeah. She’s- she’s kind. She listens. She looks at me like I can be someone worthwhile.”

“Hazel, you old softie.”

“I suppose so.”

Five shook his head. “How has the Commission not killed you already?”

“I guess, when it mattered, they underestimated me. Like they did you.”

Diego’s voice echoed from the trees on the other side of the house, calling Five’s name along with a few choice descriptors Grace would have scolded him over. Despite himself, Five felt his lips quirk upwards.

“You care about them a lot,” Hazel said. “Your family, I mean.”

The smile faded. “Look where it got me. Betrayed by my father. Hunted by the Commission. For years, I’ve done nothing but protect them. Killed for them. And what was the point of it all? In the end, I knew nothing. Everyone figured out the apocalypse before me.”

“Because of you,” Hazel corrected. Five’s brow twitched in confusion. “You set things in motion. You had the pieces. It’s not your fault your dad tripped you at the finish line, kid. Maybe you didn’t figure everything out yourself, but you sure as hell made sure everyone got the right information. You brought them together.”

“I didn't do shit.”

“I don’t know your family very well. To be honest, they don’t seem like the most functional bunch. But when they put their minds to it, they were as focused on helping you and your sister as you are on protecting them. Who knows? Maybe that’ll save us from an apocalypse.”

Five raised an eyebrow. “What, with the power of love? Even you can’t be that naïve.”

Hazel shrugged. “Got us both to betray the Commission, didn’t it? And it got you pretty damn close to stopping an apocalypse on your own. Add a few more superpowered siblings to the mix, maybe we stand a half a chance. Although, fair warning, I think Allison is probably going to punch you in the face after what you said back there.”

Five winced. “That wasn’t my finest moment.”

“Eh, you’ve had a rough few days.” He stood up, cracking his back. “I’ll give you five more minutes, then I’m telling them where you are.”

“I could jump away.”

“If you don’t want to be found, go right ahead.” Hazel paused, gazing out at the field. “They’re worried.”

“I’m sure they are. Incompetent too. Luther has circled the house three times and hasn’t once thought to look up. Diego I at least had to blink to the other side of the roof to avoid.”

Hazel glanced down. “That’s the point of a team, right? If Diego’s looking up, Luther doesn’t need to.”

With that, Hazel moved back to the roof access point. Five curled tighter, watching clouds tumble over each other in the distance.

Not long after, a lighter set of steps tiptoed onto the roof, tentative in a way that spoke to caution and a fear of falling.

“I’ll catch you before you trip and roll off, you know,” he said.

“I trust you, but I’d rather not try it out,” Vanya replied.

He blinked up and met her halfway. She sat next to him, shoulders brushing so he could feel her sigh of relief at being seated.

“So, Dad’s awful, right?” she said.

Five barked a surprised laugh. “I never thought otherwise, but I’ll admit I’m even more inclined to agree now.”

Vanya knocked her shoulder into his. “Wanna talk about it?”

Emotions swelled again, nearly choking him. He really didn’t. But maybe it was time.

“He used me. He spent years training me to kill without thinking about it, but he did it by playing off of my willingness to protect you all. He had to have known he made a mistake as soon as he found out it was you. If he had his way, I still wouldn’t know. The only reason I’m here is because he didn’t count on Hazel being at the Academy. Or on me being off-balance enough that Luther gained the upper hand. This is such a goddamn mess.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I mean, it kind of is.”

“No, it’s not. It’s his fault for not training you properly. Maybe if he’d had more patience with a four-year-old none of this would be happening.”

“It sounds like the Commission was pretty set on it happening either way.”

Five sighed and dropped his head onto his crossed arms. “What a goddamn mess,” he said, because it was worth repeating.

A breeze picked up, rustling Vanya’s hair. She pushed it out of her face. “What was it like? Being an assassin?”

How do you explain to your sister who cried when you stepped on ants as a child what it’s like to snuff out a human life? Did he talk about the feeling before the kill? The calm of knowing who your target was and what your course of action will be. The moment of success? Or maybe after, when he calculated what to report back to their father. The emptiness.

“It doesn’t feel like anything,” he settled on. “You have to keep yourself distant from your targets. It can’t be personal.” Vanya nodded slowly. “I never enjoyed it. I was good at it. I took pride in it, but it never gave me pleasure. I think at some point I stopped seeing people and started seeing probabilities.”

“That sounds terrible.”

Five shrugged one shoulder, picking at a thread in his jacket. “It is what it is.”

The air was calmer now. In the distance the lake lapped at the shore. A pair of squirrels chased each other up the trunk of a pine tree, circling up into the branches before jumping to the next one over. Life was thriving. It had no idea what was headed its way in a matter of days.

“Are you going to kill me?” Vanya asked.

Five jolted, arms falling from his knees as he pulled away and turned to fully face her. “What? Of course not! Do you think that little of me?”

Vanya shifted to look him in the eye. “What if I asked you to? As a failsafe,” she added at the appalled horror Five was sure he was doing a terrible job of hiding. “If I’m about to start the apocalypse. I already talked with Allison. If it comes down to it, she’ll rumor me. We came up with wording together. There should be a backup option though. You. I don’t want to die. But I don’t want to cause the end of the world. To kill all of you.”

“Don’t,” he said sharply. “Do not ask me to kill you.”

“Only if I get out of control. If there’s absolutely no other way.”

“There will always be another way. Or I won’t notice there’s not until we’re past the point of no return. It turns out I’m not as observant as I thought I was.” He wasn’t quite able to keep the bitterness from his tone.

Vanya offered him a sad smile. “There’s no way me having powers would have been on your radar.”

“I’m trained to work through probabilities. To consider all options.”

“And you didn’t have all the variables.” She put a tentative hand on his knee. “Five, you’re 19 years old. I know you like to think of yourself as this super independent person – and you are in a lot of ways – but not all of them. You were a kid and Dad showed you something terrible and you trusted him to help fix it. You have the variables to work with now. You can figure something out. And we’re together. That counts for something, right?”

Did it? He thought back to the years he’d spent separate, watching his siblings leave and become adults, grow as individuals. Grow apart. Years that he’d spent learning the most efficient ways to kill a person and how to navigate the Commission as a spy. They were a family, sure, but they hadn’t been a team in ages.

The question was, did that matter? His fight with Luther and Diego proved that the three of them, at least, remembered each other’s strengths and weaknesses. And, as much control as being on one’s own offered, there were benefits to working together. Covering weaknesses, playing to strengths. Someone to look up when he was looking out. Besides, how much had perceived control really worked to Five’s advantage? In the end, it had been a farce implemented by his father to keep him close.

He thought of Vanya’s weight next to him, of the warm feeling he had when he saw his siblings together, of Klaus and Diego laughing through the end of an argument, of Allison and Ben sharing put-upon sighs, of the worry in Luther’s voice as he called Five’s name even though Five had hurt Allison.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, it counts for something.”

“Good.”

He’d have to find a notebook somewhere and run calculations. Vanya was right. He had the variables he needed now. He’d already started running some in his head, but they were rudimentary. Maybe he could-

Vanya cleared her throat, still peering out towards the horizon. Five’s calculations skittered to a halt.

“Um,” Vanya started, twisting her fingers together, “so, Luther and Diego, they offered to work with me. On training. With Ben on the sidelines. To help with the emotional stuff. Anyway, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to watch?”

She sounded nervous, yet hopeful. And, Five realized, he’d been so focused on the apocalyptic ramifications of Vanya having powers that he hadn’t stopped to consider the personal ones. Vanya – little ordinary Vanya – could train with them. She could finally come into her own – be a full-fledged member of the Umbrella Academy, after years spent watching them run off without her.

The corner of his lips quirked up. “I do. When did you say you were going down?”

Vanya’s relief was palpable. “A few minutes. Not right away or anything.”

“How about you tell me about your powers? I popped up for some air before Ben and Allison could tell me much.”

“You mean you freaked out on them and yelled, then came up here to brood?”

He waved her off. “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. Tell me about your powers.”

They sat on the roof as the sun rose above them, Vanya’s voice rolling over him – more confident than before – until it was time for training.

Chapter Text

March 31, 2019

Vanya wobbled a couple of inches off the ground.

“Focus on-” Diego started.

“I got it,” Vanya replied, stabilizing into a hover. The trees swayed, but no more branches joined the pile their fallen comrades. Luther gave her a hopefully-stronger-than-it-felt thumbs-up.

A week ago, if someone had told Luther he’d be training his supposedly ordinary sister to control her world-ending powers, he’d have…well, he’d have politely told them they were mistaken. But Diego would have laughed in their face, so there was that. Yet here he was, offering encouragement as Vanya created what seemed to be energy fields and, as of about three hours ago, manipulated sound into something dangerously close to the ability to fly.

Hey, after finding out most of his life had been built on a foundation of lies and twisted truths, why the hell not?

And, somehow, training Vanya wasn’t the weirdest part of the past day. That honor went to Five. Not only was Five present, he was watching them train from the sidelines in silence. No insults offered up as advice. No snarking about how inept they were. He’d parked himself by their training area and just…observed.

Allison had come to sit next to him for a while. They’d spoken in whispers, neither breaking their focus on Vanya’s practice session. Whatever they were talking about, it most assuredly wasn’t their sister based on Allison’s stern expression and Five’s downturned lips. Eventually, Five ducked his head and said something that led Allison to grin and pull him into her side. Five allowed it for all of two seconds before wiggling out of her hold like an embarrassed teenager.

Except that wasn’t really a metaphor, was it? Five was, in fact, a teenager.

He’d always seemed so put-together. When they were kids, he was the first to roll his eyes at their father. His extended absences during their adolescence painted a picture a self-sufficiency, reinforced twice over by Reginald’s treatment of him. They’d had a partnership while the rest of the family had to scavenge for scraps of approval wherever they could find them. It had irked Luther for years. Diego and Allison too, though they’d never admit it. Diego had turned it into resentment, Allison into motivation to succeed. And Luther? He’d funneled it into creating an illusion. An illusion of certainty. A projection of confidence that Reginald knew what he was doing to cover the flickers of doubt that were waiting for the right moment to ignite.

After years of careful maintenance, all it had taken to light the match was a few journal entries and the silhouette of his younger brother resting his chin on his knees the morning before.

Different as they were personally, Five and Luther’s experiences with Reginald were comparable. Both put their faith in him. Both ended up isolated from the family for years. Both bore physical evidence of their choices that differentiated them from the rest of their siblings. That made it all the more difficult to watch his brother. Luther was sitting in the burnt-out shell of his sense of self, picking through the smoldering remains to find what was left of him without his father’s influence. Five, meanwhile, had slapped a bandaid over his raw emotions and pretended there wasn’t a weeping wound festering underneath it. He’d thrown himself into reading Reginald’s journals, then mapped out the house and surrounding land in meticulous detail. Yet, there were moments when he would go quiet, eyes flashing with insecurity. Like he was second guessing himself.

How could Luther possibly hope to help with that when he was busy doing the same thing?

For the time being, it didn’t matter. Five was distracted enough by their strategizing sessions. Whatever crisis of confidence he was having, he fell back into his old self once they sat down to plan out their defense against the Commission’s upcoming attack. Five and Hazel had enough intel on the Commission to serve as a solid starting point. That didn’t stop multiple arguments from breaking out throughout the process, including:

1. Luther proposing that Allison shouldn’t be in the line of fire (Allison won)
2. Ben and Vanya insisting that they didn’t need the others to protect them (They lost)
3. Five and Diego nearly coming to blows despite the fact that they were arguing for the same point (Luther couldn’t remember what it was now)
4. Klaus proving he knew how to handle a gun (No one won – the story of how he learned was horrifying, and Luther would have chalked it up to a drug-addled nightmare if Hazel hadn’t backed it up)

By the end of it, they stood around the kitchen island in silence passing around a bag of cookies Grace had managed to smuggle into their food stock before they left the Academy. Ben got them to eat an actual dinner eventually. Mostly because they finished the cookies.

As far as plans went, they’d come up with worse.

Five and Hazel had been split as to whether the Commission would grab Vanya or try to trigger her right then and there by slaughtering her family in front of her. Whichever goal the Commission was aiming for, they’d have to attack the same way. The best hope of defending themselves was to hold the house as long as they could. While the front rooms were open, the back offered more cover and fewer entrances to guard. They’d make their stand in the back hallway off the living room. Five and Diego would serve as the primary defense with the hallway entrance serving as a choke point. Allison and Klaus would watch for anyone trying to enter through the first bedroom and take out any attackers who managed to get by Five and Diego. Hazel and Luther would guard the second bedroom from their place in front of the interior bathroom where Ben and Vanya would take cover.

Dawn broke on April 1st.

A thick fog of tension settled in the house. Five paced, gaze darting to the shadows more and more as morning melted into afternoon. Hazel wasn’t much better. His bulk hid it in a way Five’s frame couldn’t, but he was on edge. Ben and Vanya picked up a game of checkers. Klaus and Diego made stilted conversation over the clicks of game pieces.

Halfway through their third match, a vaguely familiar thwump sounded outside.

“Positions!” Five shouted. A bullet shattered his coffee mug seconds later.

Things, as Klaus might say, escalated quickly.

Figures in red gas masks appeared at the window. The front door splintered. Ben and Vanya made it to the hall as the first agent breached the entryway, ducking as bullets pinged the wall behind them. Hazel and Luther squeezed after them with Allison and Klaus on their tails. Diego and Five – for lack of a better term – unleashed hell.

The rachet of gunfire was constant. Under it was the thud of whatever projectiles Diego could get his hands on, the blip of Five’s power as he jumped, the melody of Allison’s voice rumoring anyone who got close enough. They were holding their ground. The few agents who made it to Luther and Hazel were easily dispatched.

It was a triumph of strategy. A plan executed brilliantly.

Right up until it wasn’t.

Two agents stumbled through Allison and Klaus’ blockade, both wounded. Hazel took out one. The other slammed into Luther before he could react. Luther pushed him, enough blood from the agent’s stomach wound covering his hands that the agent’s gun slipped from Luther’s grasp when he tried to grab it. The agent fell backwards, but not before firing off as many shots as he could. At the same time, the agent who Hazel had dispatched pulled himself up and shot the last of his ammo before collapsing. Hazel staggered, a bloom of red spreading on his thigh. It was haphazard but close enough range to knock him to one knee. Right in time for the spray of bullets from the first agent to fly past Hazel into the bathroom.

Tile cracked. Ben cried out, and there was a thud of limbs against porcelain. Vanya screamed.

Luther swung himself into the room. Blood was spattered on the bullet-riddled shower wall. Ben had collapsed at the base of the tub. He was holding his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut in pain. Blood was starting to ooze between his fingers.

“Shit,” Hazel muttered beside Luther. He hobbled into the bathroom and knelt by Ben, whipping a towel off the rack and pressing it to the wound. Luther stayed frozen in the doorway. He should check the hall. Make sure they were defended against further incursions. But Ben was sprawled out on the floor and-

“I’ve got this,” Hazel said. “Keep an eye on things.”

Luther nodded and turned away, though he made sure the keep Ben in sight.

“I’m fine,” Ben said, fast enough that it was pretty clear he wasn’t. “It’s my shoulder. I’m okay.” Hazel squeezed harder. Ben yelled again, then went limp.

“It’s not a lethal hit,” Hazel reported. “He’ll be okay as long as he gets it treated. Probably blacked out from the shock of it all.”

Luther nodded and sagged against the doorframe. The wood beneath his back was vibrating. He frowned. A rumbling overtook the chaos in the front part of the house. It wasn’t just the doorframe. The whole room was shaking. Hard.

Shit. Vanya. She was curled up in the corner, had probably ducked and covered to avoid the shots. Now, her hands were clenched in her hair as she stared vacantly at Ben, spouting a steady stream of no’s.

Luther abandoned his post and squatted next to her. “Hey, no, it’s okay! Ben is fine. We’re all fine.”

If he said “fine” enough times, it would be true, right?

A chunk of the ceiling crashed onto the toilet.

“We gotta go,” Hazel said, shifting Ben to pick him up.

Ben moaned, blinking back to consciousness.

“We can’t!” Luther yelled. “We’re still under attack!”

Gunfire pinged to prove his point.

“She’s going to bring the house down,” Hazel argued, gesturing to the cracked ceiling.

“What’s going on back there?” Diego yelled.

Luther sent an uncertain look to Hazel. “Um…”

Klaus popped his head in. “Hey, what’s with the- Ben?”

“I’m fine,” Ben repeated. He sounded dazed, but seemed to be regaining cognizance. And with it, pain.

Klaus came further into the room. “That doesn’t look fine.” His hands fluttered over Ben’s shoulders.

“Seriously, what’s going on back there?” Five shouted, nearly drowned out by a series of shots ricocheting off the walls. “We can’t afford-”

“Ben took a hit,” Luther yelled. “Vanya’s…” What was Vanya? Freaking out? About to bring a building down on top of them? “…on edge.”

Another burst of gunfire. Luther risked peering out of the room. Allison had joined Five and Diego, shouting as much as she could. Her voice was lost in the noise of the attack. The three of them were getting pushed down the hallway. Agents swarmed. Five stepped forward and reappeared on the front agent’s back, swinging him around so he opened fire on his compatriots.

It was a temporary reprieve at best. There were too many of them. Ben was down, and Luther couldn’t protect everyone and-

Klaus rose slowly from where he’d been crouched by Ben. His fists were shaking as they started glowing blue.

Blue that manifested into blobs around them, then that morphed into human forms.

Ghosts.

Holy shit, they were ghosts. With- with gunshot wounds and tire marks and blunt force trauma and was that a hatchet? Five made a shocked noise. Diego grabbed Five’s shoulder and put himself between his siblings and the apparitions.

The ghosts advanced on the agents. The next ten seconds were bloody and loud. Klaus fell to his knees with a shaky exhale. The ghosts flickered and disappeared.

“Shit.” Klaus ran a hand across his face. “That was a lot.”

Five pushed Diego past into the living room. Whatever he saw must not have looked much better than the mess in the hallway. He winced before limping his way to the rest of the family.

“They’re all dead,” he reported.

“Good job, Klaus,” Ben said from the floor. “Way to figure out your powers.” He gave a shaky thumbs-up.

Klaus laughed, a smidge hysterical. “You know how I love dramatic timing.”

“I hate to interrupt, but…” Hazel started. The ceiling cracked more. The walls shuddered around them. Across the hall, a light fixture dropped, jerking on its wiring before snapping and landing on the shaking bed.

Klaus crawled to Vanya. “Vanya, come on, you have to-”

“No time,” Five yelled as more cracks and bangs sounded around the house. “We need to get out!”

Hazel grabbed Ben while Luther picked up Vanya. They stumbled out of the house, coming up short a few feet into the field. More bodies littered the perimeter. Some of them barely looked human anymore. Even Diego seemed a little green around the edges, though Five and Hazel strode by like it was nothing.

Vanya was taking stuttering breaths in his arms, too fast for comfort. She didn’t show any signs of registering what was going on. He set her down in the grass. Feeling solid ground under her would help, right?

“Set me next to her,” Ben said, grimacing as his shoulder was jostled.

As soon as he was on the ground, he started whispering to her. Hazel took up position guarding their flank. Luther took the opportunity to check the others for injuries. Five was bloody but there was no indication any of it was his. Allison, Klaus, and Diego had superficial wounds, nothing that needed immediate attention.

“Ben?” Vanya said. She blinked a few times. The rumbling settled. The house was slanted like a woodsy version of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Still standing, but definitely not stable enough for them to take cover in without risking it coming down around them.

They’d lost their safe ground. They were sitting ducks.

Fwump

The sound was similar to Five’s, like a song in a different key. Luther was getting really tired of hearing off-brand versions of his brother’s power.

A woman with a sharp smile and white-blonde hair was standing in the field. She held a briefcase in front of her with both hands clasped around the handle.

“Oh, Five, is this the family I’ve heard so much about?”

Five, who had frozen stock still at the noise, turned and pointed a gun at her, face masking any emotion other than cool confidence. “Handler. It’s good to see you.”

“Aw, that doesn’t seem to be true.” She tilted her head in a coquettish twist, nodding at the gun. “You’ve been quite the thorn in my side the past few days, you know. Not to mention the Board.”

Five shrugged. “I don’t see how that’s my problem. You're the ones who recruited me.”

“We couldn't very well let a kid muck about with the timeline,” she responded, tone sharp. “You were causing ripples. You know better than anyone that we have to stop ripples from becoming waves.”

Five’s smile could have pierced armor. “How’s that going for you?”

She leaned over to shoot an exaggerated look at Vanya. Even taking measured breaths, Vanya’s eyes were a blazing white. She scowled at the Handler’s attention.

The Handler stood straight again. “Not too far off schedule, I’d say.”

Five’s finger twitched on the trigger.

The Handler started a casual-yet-somehow-threatening pace. “You and dear old Dad were always a step ahead of us. We’d just landed on Harold Jenkins as a fuse, then POOF,” she made an exploding motion with one hand, “he was dead in his cell. It’s why we recruited you. Better you kill for us than for someone else. And, low and behold, the unsanctioned killings stopped. Or, as it turns out, slowed down. You’re quite the little learner.” She gave him the same expression a teacher gives a first grader doing crafts. “So adaptable. The apocalypse stayed in flux. We couldn’t figure it out. We were sure you weren’t slipping your leash until you showed your hand a few days ago.” She stopped pacing and turned to Five, pouting. “It was disappointing, I’ll admit. But you have potential, Number Five. Enough potential that the Commission would like to make you an offer.”

“What?” Ben murmured from the ground.

“Come again?” Five said.

“An offer. You have to know your efforts here are futile. That was a mere fraction of our forces. It would be such a waste of talent to allow a little thing like the this to be the hill you die on.”

“A little thing like this?” Diego echoed, incredulous. “You mean the apocalypse? That’s the ‘little thing’ you’re referring to?”

The Handler ignored him. “What is it that you really want out of this endeavor?”

Five worked his jaw. “I want you to put a stop to it.”

“You and I both know that isn’t quite true,” she replied.

Silence rang between them.

“My family,” Five finally said.

She raised her chin. “What about them?”

“I want them to survive,” Five responded like it was being pulled from him with pliers.

“All of them?”

“Yes, all of them.”

“You have to know what you’re asking is impossible. We need our trigger. The rest?” She glanced at them like they were mannequins in a storefront window. “I’ll see what I can do. In return, you would take a job with us again. A new position. In Management.”

“I find it hard to believe that you want me working for you again,” Five sneered. “After I, as you so kindly put it, slipped my leash.”

“You’re wasted here, Five,” the Handler said. “And you were wasted in Corrections. We’d thought because of the affinity for killing…but no. You have potential beyond anything you saw during your initial contract with us. What I’m talking about is the home office. You’d have the best health and pension, and no more ceaseless travel. You could stay in one place. Be with your family.” She moved forward. Five let her push his gun down. The alarm bells blaring in Luther’s head picked up urgency. “You’ve already given so much. Years of your life away from them that you’ll never get back. I mean, you can’t be happy like this.”

“I’m not looking for happy.”

The Handler stroked Five’s cheek. “We’re all looking for happy.”

Five was worryingly still. Like this woman touching him was a regular enough occurrence not to phase him. The humming of Vanya's powers amped up and Klaus' fists picked up a blue aura before sputtering out.

Diego pointed one of his knives at the Handler. "He’s not interested, lady. Back off."

Handler sent Five a patronizing look. "So protective. Do they know the things you've done in their name?"

Five raised the gun again. “It doesn’t matter. No deal. Not without my family. All of them. No exceptions.”

The Handler stepped away with a casual shrug. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”

“You never would have followed through anyway,” Five retorted.

“We’ll never know, will we? But enough small talk.”

She snapped her fingers. Flashes lit up the field behind her until the space was filled with people in suits carrying briefcases. Every one of them had a weapon of some kind, mostly guns, though some had more creative instruments spanning from axes to rope to cricket bats.

Hazel perked up. “Cha-Cha!”

A familiar figure near the middle of the pack shook its head. Luther recognized her suit and mask from the attack on the Academy.

“Mm-mm, don’t ‘Cha-Cha’ me,” Cha-Cha said. “You had a great job. You got to visit exotic places, meet new people, and then kill them. And you gave all that up for some- some doughnut lady? No. You abandoned the job on my watch. Made me look like a fool. I’m going to kill you, Hazel. And then I’m going to kill that hag in her little store. I’ll make it extra slow and painful. Just for you.”

“Well, that was dramatic,” the Handler said. “Such a shame, Number Five. You could have been something great.” Five glared daggers at the woman. The Handler sent him a poisonous smile in return. “Let’s pull that trigger, shall we?”

Chapter Text

Dread had become a constant over the past few days, an abstract fear poking and prodding at Five to do something without any helpful guidance as to what that something was or how to do it. In an odd way, the Commission launching their attack had been a relief. It meant action. Moving, fighting, feeling skin and bone give under his fist, seeing the enemy numbers flag. It was concrete. It was progress.

Then the Handler had turned up like a bad penny. She was never going to let him go – Five had known that before he’d gone on the run – but seeing her in front of him, a stone’s throw away from his siblings, was too close for comfort. Hell, her being in the same decade as his family was too close for comfort.

It had distracted him, as she’d likely planned it. The time he should have been spending strategizing was instead spent playing a futile game of verbal chess. The Handler was good. He’d give her that. But bringing the entirety of the Corrections division? It was a desperation move. An intimidation tactic if he’d ever seen one. She was worried. He’d like to think it wasn’t an overestimation of his family’s ability to work as a team.

Except they were backed against the side of a half-demolished house with nothing to defend themselves but their powers and the handful of guns and knives someone had had the sense to stash in the trunk when they’d fled the Academy. Ben had a hole in his shoulder. Hazel was wounded, and Klaus had exhausted himself. There was a battalion of assassins charging them. Their only advantage was that the Commission wouldn’t open fire until they were sure they wouldn’t accidentally hit Vanya.

They had time, but not much of it. Moments, at best. His breath caught. What could he do? What could any of them possibly do?

“I heard a rumor,” Allison shouted, “that you were fighting to protect the Umbrella Academy.”

The assassins leading the charge slowed to a stop, then turned and attacked their compatriots. Despite all the noise, the rumor had affected about a quarter of the agents.

God, he loved having Allison on his side.

He stepped into a jump and appeared on the shoulders of an agent in the middle of the pack, grabbing the man’s gun and spinning him like he’d done earlier in the house. A handful of assassins fell. When agents moved to pull at Five, he jumped away, landing in front of another agent and kicking out. Despite her knee crunching, she managed to swing her gun out of his grasp as he reached for it. Something that felt like a bat splintered across his torso from behind. A squelching sound, and the bat-wielding agent was falling, knife protruding from his neck. Five snapped his head around to find Diego across the field, arm outstretched from his throw. Diego gave him a nod and returned to hand-to-hand combat with a contingent of fighters. Five pulled the knife out of the agent’s neck and threw it towards Diego. The knife changed direction and hit another attacker before Diego rushed by and snatched it up.

The battle was a jumbled mess. With Allison’s rumor in play, it was hard to tell who was fighting for them and who wasn’t. It came to Five in flashes between hits and kills.

Diego stabbing someone in the crowd of brawling assassins.

Allison and Hazel holding the ground between the battle and Ben and Vanya.

Luther defending Diego’s back, throwing a person in an owl mask into a tree from across the field.

Klaus protecting Ben, compensating for recoil as he fired.

Five’s vision was overlaid in red. He had no idea how many of his former colleagues he killed or what weapons he was using. He had a gun in his hand one second. The next, his fingers tingled with the distinct rattle that followed a neck snapping under them.

Allison made a choking sound.

Five punched the person he was fighting, stomping their temple hard enough that they’d stay down until he could finish them off. It took a moment to find his bearings. When he did, Cha-Cha was standing in front of Allison while Allison held her throat, coughing. No blood on Cha-Cha’s fist meant she’d probably punched Allison in the throat. Effective at stopping her power, not at killing her.

Cha-Cha pulled out a knife. Five scrambled forward.

Something smacked his ankles. He fell hard enough that it knocked the air out of him. The agent he’d stomped on straddled him, raising a knife over their head. Rookie mistake. Never take the time to dramatically raise a knife when you could dispatch your victim with a slash to the throat. He caught the assassin’s wrists, swinging his weight to the side and using the momentum to roll them over. Along the way, he angled the knife at the assassin’s neck. Blood sprayed across his face.

Allison. He had to get to-

A shotgun blast rang out. Five rolled to the side in time to see Cha-Cha fall, her normally white shirt drenched in red. Hazel stood beside her, gun smoking, jaw tight but resolute. Allison was still sputtering for breath, eyes wide as she stared at Cha-Cha’s body. Five grabbed a pistol off a corpse and blinked to her side.

He’d barely landed before she was waving him off. “I’m okay,” she rasped.

“Laryngeal trauma,” Hazel said.
“Is your breathing compromised?” Five asked, prodding his sister’s neck.

Allison shook her head, then winced. “Bruised. Give me a minute.”

“Is she okay?” Ben called from his place on the ground behind Allison.

“She’s hoarse,” Five reported. “Nothing to worry about as long as it doesn’t start swelling.” Which wasn’t entirely true. Laryngeal trauma was no joke. He had to trust that Allison would tell him if anything beyond bruising manifested.

“She won’t be able to pull another rumor if they get too close,” Ben said, more confirmation than question.

Vanya pressed harder on his shoulder. She’d switched out the bloody towel for Hazel’s jacket at some point. “She’ll get her voice back. Stop trying to-”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” Ben interrupted, sharp. “If it’s our only option-”

“What are you talking about?” Five cut in.

“We aren’t going to win this,” Ben said. “There are too many of them. The ones Allison rumored are getting taken out. Allison can’t talk. Klaus doesn’t have the energy to pull his ghost trick again.”

“Apparently, it’s a one-time thing,” Klaus added between shots. “Unless you have any ideas for how to recharge?”

Five shook his head. “Time. Or food. An energy source.”

“Well, until someone can nab me a sandwich or some light hors d'oeuvres, we’re tough out of luck.”

Ben nodded. “I’m our best chance.”

Five frowned. “What?”

“The Horror,” Ben said with a patient smile. “It can take out everyone on this field.”

“Including yourself,” Vanya snapped.

Five’s mind had stuttered to a stop. For years, Ben had been adamant that the Horror would kill him if he ever called on it again. Now, he wanted to, what, give up? Like he was volunteering to do the dishes?
“Better me than all of you,” Ben replied.

“No,” Five said. “Not an option.”

Ben offered up another smile, this one resigned. “I’ve been living on borrowed time since I was 17 years old. You gave me that time. Over a decade to spend living and learning. And so many years arguing with Klaus.” He laughed to himself. “I got to be an uncle to Claire and a brother to the rest of you.”

“And you’ll keep doing that,” Five insisted, throat tightening. “You just opened your office. You-”

Ben was the best of them. He was an asshole – they all were – but he actually cared about other people. Not because they were victims to be saved or instruments to use to achieve an end goal. Just…because. Because the world sucked and everyone had to live in it anyway. And Ben…Ben tried to make it a little bit brighter, one person at a time.

“Give me another way we win this.” Ben’s voice was soft. Probably one he used to talk to his patients. Five should resent that but he couldn’t quite muster it. “I’m sorry,” Ben continued. “It’s not fair to ask this of you, but if you can give me any other option, we can take it.”

Five wracked his brain. There had to be something left. Some avenue they hadn’t tried. He couldn’t let Ben die, but there was nothing. He-

“No,” Vanya said with cold authority. Five jolted out of his near-panic spiral. At some point, Vanya had risen. She was standing, shoulders back, eyes hard. “You dying is not an option.”

Ben tried and failed to push himself up. “Vanya, you can’t-”

“I can,” she responded. Her gaze softened as she looked at Five and Ben. “I’ve got this.”

An ember of light blossomed at her chest. The fighting stopped. Through the hordes of attackers, Five caught sight of the Handler. She winked at him and disappeared with her briefcase.

Vanya lifted off the ground and glided forward, putting the rest of the family was behind her.

A whistling roar

Sound imploding towards them

The light emanating from her built until Five had to shade his eyes against it. The world seemed to hover for a moment. Then, she threw her hands forward like she was pushing a car, grunting with the effort. A massive wave flew outwards. It flung assassins across the field, shattering masks and bones with the its force. The forest rippled. A few trees cracked before tipping over.

Silence.

Vanya floated down.

“Jesus,” Klaus whispered. “That was a hell of an option.”

Five felt a hysterical laugh bubble up his chest. “That was the entirety of the Corrections Department. You destroyed-”

“You saved us,” Ben interrupted, shooting Five a look.

Vanya stayed quiet. When she turned, her face was paler than before – unnatural. Her irises remained a gleaming bright white.

“Um, Vanya?” Luther started.

“Step away from her,” another voice said from the driveway.

No. There was no way life would be that much of a goddamn asshole to him right now. Not when his heart was still pounding at the thought of Ben sacrificing himself for them, of Allison facing off with Cha-Cha, of Vanya using her powers.

Klaus threw he head back towards the sky. “Oh, come on. Can’t we catch a break for, like, ten seconds?”

Reginald was striding towards them, monocle firmly in place, newly polished shoes getting scuffed on gravel. Because life would absolutely be that much of a goddamn asshole right now. And, because whatever higher power that may or may not exist hated him, Vanya zeroed in on their father and stalked forward.

Five groaned, blinking between Vanya and Reginald stop her from…what was her plan? To punch ol’ Reggie in the face? More power to her, but not when she was two seconds away from atomic bomb status.

“Vanya,” he warned. When he was sure she wasn’t going to explode, he whirled on Reginald. “You need to leave. We have this under control.”

“You call this ‘under control’?” Reginald asked. “I suspected you’d abandoned our cause, not that you’d lost all sense. And after so many years of work. Such a disappointment.”

“Don’t confuse me with One or Two,” Five snapped. “I never did any of this for your approval. Everything I did, I did for my family. How did you even find us?”

“When you failed to return, I knew I would need to track your sister. Without her medication, her powers would no doubt begin to manifest.” He gave Vanya a judgmental onceover. The wind picked up. “I tracked anomalous sound waves and, low and behold, here you are.”

Five gritted his teeth. “I failed to return because you lied to me. You knew the second I told you what pharmacy burned that Vanya was the trigger. You tried to keep me away. Why? Actually, no, why bother coming here at all? We’re doing fine without you.”

“Are you? It seems to me you’re wasting time with inane questions while the world is under imminent threat. You know why I’m here.”

“To make sure I kill Vanya,” Five said, voice flat. “You’re here to make me kill my sister.”

The wind hadn’t let up. If anything, it was getting stronger. Vanya’s hair and clothes were billowing. Her eyes transitioned from cold steel to malice as she glared at their father. A high-pitched whine was growing around them.

Reginald scoffed. “Your incessant need to keep your siblings alive will be the downfall of us all. You are weak, Number Five. I should have known the moment you capitulated to my commands at the barest threat to your brothers and sisters.”

“Leave him alone,” Vanya snarled. “You showed him a world on fire with his family dead around him. He was just a kid.”

“None of you were ever just kids,” Reginald retorted. “You were meant to save the world.”

“How?!” Five asked through a clenched jaw. “You hobbled us from the start. We wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t given up on training Vanya at the first sign of a goddamn challenge.”

“Number Seven needed control,” Reginald responded, matter-of-fact. “That is what I gave her.”

“You asshole,” Vanya hissed. She stepped closer, putting herself shoulder-to-shoulder with Five. Something like lightning streaked behind Reginald. “You never gave a shit about any of us. Our whole lives, you’ve gone on and on about the greater good-” She choked off a bitter laugh. “-while you tortured Klaus and nearly killed Ben and traumatized Five into becoming an assassin and ignored my existence.”

She screamed the last words, arms trembling with the force of it. Something was happening around them. The high-pitched whine had morphed into a crackling roar. The electric streaks were shaping into a pattern. Five didn’t dare take his eyes off Reginald to check what it was. If things got out of hand, Allison would whisper whatever rumor she and Vanya had decided on.

“Everything I did was to prepare you all for something bigger than yourselves,” Reginald responded. “None of you understood that. Only Number Five.”

“Because you manipulated him,” Vanya spat. “You manipulated us. We’re nothing but tools to you. Pieces to plug in the right place for whatever shitty game you’re playing. I didn’t follow your rules. Neither did Five, so you found a way to control us. Were our lives ever really our own?”

“You’re such selfish children,” Reginald sneered. “Do you think your lives are more important than the world?”

“No,” Vanya said, anger dropping from a blaze to a steady flame. “I don’t think we’re more important than the world. But you should have. You were our dad. You were supposed to care about us.”

Power was building around her again. Her clothes were bleaching white, a stark contrast to the dirt, blood, and grass at her feet. How that worked with her power, Five had no idea. A question for another time. More pertinently, what the hell was Allison doing? She should at least be moving into position behind them. Come to think of it, Diego would take any opportunity to confront Reginald. Where was he?

Five risked a glance behind him.

Ah.

That would do it.

Vanya’s powers had manifested into what could best be described as a swirling power bubble. Lightning streaked along the circumference of it. It surrounded him, Vanya, and Reginald, keeping the others a solid fifteen feet behind them. Allison was at the barrier, lips rounded around vowels Five couldn’t hear, bent forward with a desperate air of someone screaming their heart out only to be ignored. Luther and Hazel were feeling around the edge – obviously searching for weak points – and getting shocked for their troubles. Diego stormed over with an assortment of objects. He stopped at the threshold and tossed a stick at it. It ricocheted to the side. He picked up something else.

It was no use. The rest of his siblings couldn’t get to them.

Shit.

It was up to him. Vanya hovered in the air, light accumulating on her chest like a star. Five staggered as the ground shook. The house shifted more, threatening to topple over entirely. The electric surges around the barrier picked up speed.

“Number Five,” Reginald called. Five turned to him. He sent a pointed look to the pistol in Five’s hand. It felt so natural in his grasp that he’d forgotten he had it. “The fate of the world is at stake. Everything we’ve been working towards.”

“I can’t,” Five argued, voice dangerously close to breaking. Vanya didn’t even glance his way, fully focused on Reginald.

“You must. Her powers are too strong. They feed on emotions. She has no control.”

“I-”

“She wouldn’t want this, would she?” Reginald asked. “To be the cause of the end of everything?”

She wouldn’t. She had asked him that first day at the lake house to kill her if it meant averting the apocalypse.

He turned to his siblings with the desperate hope that one of them had found a solution. Allison had tears running down her cheeks, still trying to yell rumors, coughing through whatever damage Cha-Cha’s punch had caused. Ben, pale, half propped up by Klaus, who himself was staring in horror at the confrontation in front of him. Diego had abandoned his pile of pilfered objects and was trying to fight his way through the barrier to no avail. The idiot was going to knock himself out. Luther had a half-hearted hand on Diego’s arm, split between holding him back and joining him. And Hazel…everyone else was locked on Vanya, but Hazel stared straight at Five. He gave a short nod.

Trust. But to do what? To kill Vanya? To find another way?

His mind flipped through options. He was an assassin. The best the Commission had to offer. He could fix a timeline in no time flat and be back to catch dinner with Allison in LA. He was the weapon his father had forged him to be. Practical. Ruthless. Efficient.

He was also a brother. He didn’t want to kill his sister.

But he couldn’t let the world end and take the rest of his siblings with it.

“Do it, Number Five,” Reginald said. “Before it’s too late.”

Five raised the gun.

“We’re so close,” Reginald continued. “Shoot, and all of this will be over and done with.”

How silly of him. To think he had a choice. He’d thought he was learning to control his own fate, the fate of his siblings, of the world. In the end, he’d always been Reginald’s. Reginald’s son. Reginald’s assassin. Reginald’s weapon.

Nothing but an object to be aimed and fired to achieve someone else’s goals.

First, Reginald’s. Then, the Handler’s. Hell, even Vanya wanted him to be her failsafe. That was a fun way to say murderer. He’d add it to the list.

There had to be an end. He had to be the instrument that brought it.

A single gunshot rang out.

The bubble dissipated into nothing, wisps of energy floating off into the trees.

Human bodies fell in such odd ways. Some almost seemed controlled. Not graceful exactly, but not the clumsy drop of a drunken sailor on a rocking ship. Others flailed, as if the violence of their death needed to be reflected in their last movements. Arms flung out, legs jerked, chests twisting.

Reginald fell like he’d been stunned. There was no undignified flailing. At the same time, there was no beauty to it. Like a plank tipping and falling over. An object subject to gravity with no regard for itself.

“Holy shit,” Diego said somewhere behind him.

Five couldn’t find it in him to move.

Footsteps in grass. His siblings had to be approaching, one set faster than the others. Voices melted together. Allison crying, Ben demanding Klaus help him move forward, someone calling Five’s name.

It didn’t matter. It was over.

Five could breathe.

Ben’s shoulder throbbed, pain not dulling in the slightest, because heaven forbid he get some relief.

He hated being useless. It was part of why he’d hung onto using his powers for so long. That and the childhood trauma. Even after his Umbrella Academy days were behind him, he could at least use his job training to do some good in his siblings’ lives.

Now, he could do nothing but watch through the distorted barrier Vanya’s powers had created.

Five raised his gun.

A shot fired.

The barrier was gone.

Vanya dropped, stumbling to the side a couple of steps. She barely had a chance to catch her balance before Allison was on her, pulling her into a hug.

“Holy shit,” Diego said. He pushed Luther’s hand away and took off towards Five and Reginald.

Five had let the arm holding the gun drop. It swung limply at his side, grip loose enough it was lucky he hadn’t lost it entirely.

Ben slapped at Klaus. “Get me closer.”

“Yeah,” Klaus said, almost dazed. They moved within a few feet of Five and Vanya before Ben’s legs went out on him again. Damn blood loss. Klaus plopped down, letting Ben lean against him.

Reginald lay sprawled on the ground in front of Five, a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. Blood seeped into the dirt around his head. The monocle had fallen from his face, its chain draped over his ear. Five hadn’t looked away since he’d taken the shot.

Vanya pulled away from Allison. The anger from before was gone. Her eyes were back to normal and she’d stopped glowing. She glanced between Reginald and Five a few times. “Jesus, Five.”

No response.

“Hey, Five?” Ben tried.

Five kept staring at their father’s body blankly. Not a good sign.

“Five, come on, look at me.”

Nothing.

Vanya shook Allison off, gentle but firm, and approached Five. She put herself in front of him, blocking his view of Reginald. “Hey, can you look at me?”

Five’s eyes fluttered and landed on Vanya, though they seemed empty. Vanya smiled anyway. “Hey. Hi. Uh, thank you. For not killing me.” Ben and Vanya winced at the same time. “I mean, for- just- thank you. In general.”

Five nodded, painfully slow. She sent a pleading glance to the rest of them. Ben felt Klaus shrug. He was sure the others were equally clueless. She returned to Five. “How about we go over to the other side of the house, yeah? Sit on the porch? I’ll see if the kitchen is stable enough to grab us something to drink.”

Without waiting for an acknowledgement, she led Five away, arm over his shoulders.

Five tried to twist back towards the body. “But what about-”

“Don’t worry about that,” Vanya said, keeping herself positioned between his line of sight and Reginald’s corpse. “The others will take care of it.”

Shoes treaded on grass, then gravel. Vanya and Five disappeared around the corner.

“That was presumptuous of her,” Klaus said. “I mean, l guess she had a whole-” He flipped his hand in the air. “-thing and now she’s taking care of Fivey, but it’s rude to assume.” He cocked his head to the side. “So, what are we thinking? Burning or burying?”

“Jesus, Klaus,” Diego muttered, swiping a hand across his face. He squatted next to Reginald, picking up the monocle. Blood dripped off it as it hung in the air.

“We knew Five was going to have a breakdown, right?” Allison offered, voice hoarse. Ben made a mental note to check that she hadn’t damaged her vocal cords.

“I’ve gotta admit, I didn’t predict he would murder Dad.” Ben paused. “Though maybe I should have.”

“That’s what the old man gets,” Klaus said, uncharacteristically hard. “If he hadn’t forced Five into being an assassin, he wouldn’t have had to worry about being assassinated.”

“Shit,” Luther muttered. There was probably more to pick apart with Luther’s feelings. To be honest, Ben didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. Or, like, the blood. Seriously, the blood loss was getting concerning. If being more worried about bleeding out and the mental state of his traumatized teenage brother than he was about Luther made him a shitty therapist, then so be it.

None of them had ever been particularly skilled at managing their own trauma, after all. Speaking of which…

“Klaus?”

“Yeah, Benny?”

Ben raised his good arm in victory. “Ding dong, the witch is dead.”

Klaus laughed so hard he tipped backwards.

Five poked his head out of his room and scanned the corridor.

It had been days since they returned to the Academy, and his siblings were still hovering like helicopter parents. Part of it had to be the remnants of the discovery of Reginald's machinations. None of them had taken the whole assassin thing particularly well. Another part was probably how he’d acted after killing their father. It had taken longer than he’d like to admit for Vanya to coax him into conversation. Embarrassingly unprofessional of him. They also seemed oddly affected by their brief encounter with the Handler. Diego had pulled him aside and asked a set of gruff questions about whether she was normally like that with him, getting more and more agitated when Five’s answers were “evasive,” whatever the hell that meant. There had even been an awkward afternoon with Luther, who had brought him a coffee and insisted they talk about Reginald's treatment of them.

He needed some quiet, and tonight was his chance. Allison and Luther had left for California that morning. Vanya and Diego were out – Vanya in her own apartment and Diego fighting crime or whatever bullshit he called it. Ben was sleeping off the last of his pain meds under Grace’s watchful eye. Klaus had disappeared into his old room after dinner and hadn’t reemerged. Five listened for footsteps or clattering on the stairs, just in case, then blinked away.

Cold air hit him as he reappeared on the roof. It was refreshing after a day in the Academy’s stale rooms. He sat against the ledge, spine scraping on bricks, head at the top where brick changed to cement top.

He used to come up here before Reginald showed him the monocle. Back when training days were hard and he couldn’t get his mind to slow down enough to go to sleep. He’d done it less and less after joining his father’s cause, then stopped completely when the Commission recruited him.

And now here he was again, stars glittering in the sky like he’d never left. While Five had ignored anything outside of his mission, the world had kept existing. Car horns blared, same as they had when he was a kid. City lights twinkled and the moon shone overhead. All constants he hadn’t thought to lean on while he was busy scrambling through time and space at other people’s whims.

The roof access door creaked open. Shit. Had Diego come back early? Or maybe Pogo had emerged from his self-imposed isolation. Or-

A wad of fabric hit him in the face, unfolding over his head and shoulders. He sputtered and pulled it off.

A jacket.

“You’re going to catch your death of cold if you’re not careful, young man,” Klaus teased as he padded over.

“It’s barely in the 50s, and I can blink inside whenever I want,” Five griped. He slipped on the jacket anyway. Academy pajamas and socks weren’t particularly suited to a mid-spring night, and the chill had soaked into his bones while he’d been distracted.

Klaus slid down next to Five, craning his neck to look up at the sky. Five pulled the jacket closed, crossing his arms over his front. “How’d you find me?”

“You’re predictable, mi hermano. Second time you’ve retreated to a roof in as many weeks.”

Five hummed. “I’ll have to work on that.”

“Or don’t. It’s good to know where you are for once.”

Half a smile quirked at Five’s lips. “Imagine you, knowing something.”

Klaus jostled Five’s shoulder. Five leaned his head back again, searching out constellations that weren’t drowned out by light pollution.

“Thought about what you’re going to do now?” Klaus asked, casual.

“Well, I’ve stopped being an assassin, so I guess that’s progress.”

“Is there a 12-step program for that? Assassins Anonymous?”

Five rolled his eyes.

“Oooh, cold turkey then? Impressive.”

Five huffed a laugh. They fell into silence. A few blocks away, some asshole revved their engine. As if the moron wasn’t going to get stopped by another traffic light a block down the road.

“I killed a lot of people,” he said into the darkness.

“I know.”

“I killed a lot of people and I don’t regret it. I didn’t enjoy it, but it kept you all safe. I took them away from their families, and I don’t even think about them. What kind of a person does that make me?”

“A person raised by Reginald Hargreeves? A member of the Umbrella Academy? We’ve all killed people, Five,” Klaus finished, delicately.

Five scoffed. “Not like I did.”

“But for the same reason. Because Dad told us to. You’re a little bit behind schedule getting out from under his thumb, but you did it. Rather spectacularly, I might add. Now you have the whole wide world in front of you.”

A breeze ruffled his hair. Five wrapped the jacket tighter. “And what am I supposed to do with it?”

Klaus sent him a small smile and knocked their shoulders together again. “Whatever you want.”

“Right. You know, I don’t technically have a high school degree. I can’t exactly put my time at the Commission on a resume. My options are limited.”

“Then you know where to start!”

“If I have to go to high school, I’ll find a way to cause the apocalypse myself,” Five deadpanned.

Klaus chuckled. “There are ways to get your degree without actually having to interact with teenagers. We know how much you hate adolescents. And, like, people in general. Really, Five, did you know saving the world meant everyone in it too or…”

Five lifted his head to stare at Klaus. “I didn’t do it for them.”

“You’re a such a softie.” Klaus put a hand on Five’s knee and gave it a playful shake. “I bet you secretly love hugs.”

“Don’t push it.” He didn’t knock Klaus’ hand away.

“Anyway, all you have to do is set a goal. Then do it.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Maybe not, but it doesn’t have to be that hard either.” He poked Five’s leg. “What do you want to do?”

What did he want to do? Earn a degree? Try his hand at independent research? He had a lot of skills around probabilities and prediction. That had to be useful somewhere-

“God, I can see you overthinking,” Klaus teased. “I’d forgotten what that was like. Just pick one thing you want. Not because you think it’ll be practical or because it’ll help the family or whatever logical ideas your little mind is running through right now. Something frivolous that has no purpose other than making you happy. I’ll buy it for you. No questions asked.”

Five raised his eyebrows. “That’s dangerous of you.”

“What can I say? I like to live dangerously.”

“You don’t have the money.”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve recently come into some inheritance. Stop avoiding the question. What can Big Brother Klaus-y buy you for saving the world? The most normal thing you can think of.”

Five paused. A car beeped. Another answered it. On the street, a puppy yipped, collar jingling with whatever excited puppy movements it was making on its nighttime walk. A woman laughed – the owner if her murmured encouragements and praise were any indication. She sounded happy.

The most normal thing he could think of, Klaus had said.

“I want a dog.”

“A dog!” Klaus clapped, practically vibrating with excitement.

He’d blurted it out on a whim, but it felt right as it settled. Maybe it was the “lost childhood” or whatever his siblings were calling it. Maybe it was a desire for companionship now that his family was a decade older than him. Maybe he wanted something to care for after years of taking lives. It didn’t really matter. Regardless of where it came from, it was true.

Beside him, Klaus was listing every conceivable activity someone could do with a dog.

It wasn’t the breakthrough Klaus’ reaction seemed to indicate. Five was hypervigilant. He had at least eleven separate plans in the event of the Commission resurfacing. There were equations written on his wall that were going to cause a ruckus when his siblings inevitably discovered them.

Five stared up at the stars and let his brother’s voice fade into white noise. Took one breath, then another.

A dog.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start, and Five was nothing if not motivated once he set his mind to something.

A start was all he needed.