chapter ten

"I don't know... yet," Five replied, taking the coffee back from Blair, drinking the last sip, and tossing the empty cup over his shoulder. "But I do know that he's responsible for the apocalypse. So we have to find him. And we have to do it now."

"How is he connected to what's going to happen?" Luther asked.

"I don't know."

"Wait, so you just know his name?" Diego asked, stepping forward as if to challenge Five and Blair. "That's it?"

"Yep," Blair replied, popping the 'p' on the end.

Diego rolled his eyes and stated, "there's probably dozens of Harold Jenkinses in the city."

"Well, we just better start looking, then," Five snapped.

"I'm sorry. Am I the only one that's skeptical here? I mean, how exactly do you two know all of this about what's his name?" Allison demanded.

Five looked up from his feet. "Harold Jenkins. You know those lunatics in masks who attacked the house?"

"Oh, yeah, I think I remember those guys," Klaus joked, looking at Blair with a smirk.

It wasn't a memory Blair was fond of, but she smirked back, regardless. She supposed getting tortured alongside Klaus had made them closer in an odd pain related way, besides, that was when she and Klaus both saw the same dead people. So, yeah, maybe a smirk was in order at their shared experience.

Speaking of which, Blair had not seen any dead people since that day. It was as if that motel room was a paradox or an alternate universe in which Blair and Klaus had the same powers, except now that they had escaped the motel room, Blair could no longer see the dead people or Ben. To be honest, if the only way to see Ben again was to put up with all of the other dead saps that followed Klaus around, then Blair would happily hear dead people complain about their deaths all day. To see Ben again, Blair would do anything.

"Yeah, the ones that attacked us while you were getting drunk," Diego fired at Five.

Blair snapped her head towards Five and glared at her brother. He had been getting drunk? Seriously?

"Yeah, them," Five said. "They were sent by the Temps Commission to stop me from coming back and preventing the end of life on Earth."

"The Temps what?" Allison asked.

"Our former employer," Blair explained. "They watch over everyone and everything to ensure that what's supposed to happen happens. They believe the apocalypse is coming in three days. So, Five and I visited the headquarters and found a message that was supposed to go to the said lunatics. It said to 'protect Harold Jenkins', which means he's probably the one who causes the apocalypse."

It was silent for a moment as Five and Blair's siblings stared at them in shock. Blair's rundown had left out a few parts, but it was enough of an explanation for her siblings to understand the gravity of their situation. Another second passed and Numbers One through Four all burst out in questions for their two siblings, questions about everything they had just said alongside an odd remark about burning skin from Klaus.

"Do you have any idea how insane this sounds?" Allison questioned the duo.

"You know what else is insane? We look like thirteen year olds, Klaus talks to the dead, and Luther thinks he's fooling everybody with that overcoat. Everything about us is insane, it always has been."

Klaus, who was laying on one of the benches looking ridiculously hungover, pointed out, "he's got a point there."

"We didn't choose this life, we're just living it," Five said. "For the next three days, anyway."

"But the last time we tried to stop it, we all died. Why is this time any different? Why shouldn't I go home to my daughter?" Allison asked, a look of grave concern in her eyes. Blair couldn't blame her for wanting to go home to her daughter, Blair supposed she would want to too if she were in Allison's position.

"Because this time, I'm here. We have the name of the man responsible. Guys, we actually have the chance of saving the lives of billions of people. Including Claire."

Allison shifted her weight on her feet, her expression clouding up as she asked, "you know her name?"

"I do, and I'd like to live long enough to meet her," Five replied, genuine compassion in his tone.

Allison swallowed, shifting her glance between Diego and Luther as they stood beside her. "Alright. Let's get this bastard."

"You had me at Gerald Jenkins," Diego spoke.

"Harold," Blair corrected him.

"Whatever. I've already lost two people this week, I'm not losing anyone else," Diego replied as he crossed the room to head to the exit.

"Luther?" Five prompted.

Luther stepped forward, "yeah, you guys go. I'm gonna stay behind and go through Dad's files. I still think this has something to do with why he sent me to the moon."

Blair rolled her eyes. Once again, Luther was too occupied with his own side stories to care about the real issue at hand. The end of the world was looming ahead and yet, he still cared about himself before everyone else.

Diego turned around in his tracks and snapped, "seriously? Now you wanna make the end of the world about you and Dad?"

Exactly, Blair thought.

"No. 'Watch for threats'. That's what he told me. You think that's a coincidence? This all has to be connected somehow."

Allison stepped forward, laid a hand on Luther's arm, and said, "no, we should all stick together."

"We don't have time for this," Five retorted, his aggravation clearly growing.

"Let's roll," Diego stated, "I know where we can find this asshole. Klaus, you're with me."

Klaus picked his head up off of the couch and stuttered, "yeah, I— I'm good. I think I'll, uh... I think I'll pass, I'm... feeling a little under the weather, so, uh...". Klaus groaned once more and walked past Five, Blair, and Diego to go God knows where.

Blair blinked in surprise before saying, "alright, guess we'll go without him."

"I know this Jenkins dude has to have a record. We just gotta get our hands on this file."

Allison, Blair, Five, and Diego were all crammed in Diego's small Chevrolet Caprice outside of the police precinct, their eyes scanning the building on their left side. Blair remembered the last time she had been in Diego's car when she was in searing pain and had just been recently tortured. This time around, the speed bumps didn't hurt as much, but whether that was due to Diego's no longer reckless driving or the potential beginning of her knee's recovery was unclear.

"And your plan is to what? Waltz in there and just ask for it?" Allison asked, an unconvinced tone underlying her questions.

"I know the station like the back of my hand, sis," Diego replied. "I've spent a lot of time inside."

"Handcuffed," Blair added snarkily.

Diego didn't disagree with Blair's statement as he said, "whatever. Here's the plan."

"Plan?" Five questioned him. "I'm just gonna blink in and get the file."

"No, that's not...," Diego began before saying, "you don't know the ins and outs of this place, okay?"

"I literally just did this yesterday," Five said. "Well, my yesterday, not your yesterday. It'll take me two seconds. Why don't I just go in?"

Diego cut him off. "Listen to me. You are not going in there. I made a call. That's what a leader does. He leads."

Here he goes again with his insane struggle for a leadership position, Blair grumbled internally. Why does everyone want to be a leader? Just calm down and earn that position by being better than every else. You just gotta chill.

The four siblings got out of the car and headed towards the sidewalk. From there Diego headed down some dark side alleyway, Allison headed over to the payphone, and Five and Blair both leaned against one of the bank's walls with very bored expressions. It was a cloudy day that made their overly grey city look more depressing than usual, something that Blair wasn't sure if she loved or hated. On one hand, grey was a pretty color, but on the other hand, their city was just dull.

"So," Five began, "you worked for the Commission?"

Blair turned her head towards him and shrugged, "yeah, I guess the secret's out."

Five nodded. "What was your job?"

"Apocalypse prevention," Blair replied. "Me and a few others were tasked with preventing the apocalypses that weren't supposed to happen."

"How long did you work for them?" Five asked, leaning his head back against the wall as his eyes closed shut. He looked tired, oddly enough.

Blair furrowed her eyebrows, trying to remember how long she had been there. "I think somewhere around thirty-five years or so."

Five nodded once again and turned his gaze back to the street. There really wasn't much for them to talk about beyond the Temps Commission and the apocalypse. It was strange, the silence that laid over them like a suffocating blanket. They used to be able to talk about anything with each other, but Blair supposed it had been all those years apart that had driven a metaphorical wrench into their bond.

Luckily, the silence was ended among Diego's return.

"You're welcome," Diego said, handing the folder in his hand to Allison. It didn't look cynical, but Blair realized that there was no reason it should. Just because the man it's about is probably insane doesn't mean his file would give any indication of that.

Allison opened up the folder and flipped through it while the others watched her. She flipped through the loose papers before stopping at one and exclaiming, "holy shit!"

"What?" Diego asked.

She flipped the folder around for the three of them to see what she had found. "Harold Jenkins is Leonard Peabody."

Harold's house was seemingly normal from the exterior. There were no signs on the lawn broadcasting maniacal behavior or big warning marks on the front porch showcasing the inhabitant's insanity. It was a normal suburban house that looked like every other house on its street, and that may have been the main reason it made Blair uncomfortable.

"Be careful, okay? We don't know what Peabody's capable of," Allison warned, shutting her car door and stepping onto the neatly mowed lawn.

"Yeah, he didn't seem dangerous when I first saw him," Diego replied. "Looked kinda scrawny."

The four of them continued to walk across Harold's lawn as Allison disputed, "yeah, well, so are most serial killers and mass murderers. I mean, look at him."

"Thanks," Five stated.

Instead of adding in that Blair was also a serial killer slash mass murderer, she stayed silent and limped her way up the porch stairs. She really needed her crutches back now that the Commission's pain medication had worn off— her leg was killing her.

"Good point," Diego admitted. "So what's this guy want with Vanya?"

"I don't know," Blair shrugged. "Maybe he's just a lonely sap who needs a girlfriend. Kinda like you, Diego."

"Hey," Diego snapped, turning around to glare at his sister. Luckily, he dropped it quickly as he seemed to remember what was going on. "Hey, look, I'm gonna burst through—" the newly formed trio turned around, suddenly noticing the absence of their previously fourth member, "you know what? It'd be nice for people to just stick to—"

In the blink of an eye, Five had jumped both himself and Blair inside Harold's house. After a second, Diego came crashing through the glass of the front door, his body hitting the ground hard. Allison walked up from wherever she had entered, her eyes scanning Diego as he groaned on the floor.

"Subtle."

Five moved next to the door and opened it. "You know, the door was unlocked."

"Yeah, well, my way works just fine," Diego grunted as he got back up on his feet. "Spread out. Yell if you, uh... you know, you're in trouble."

Allison, Blair, and Five watched as their brother walked away stiffly.

"Ah, inspiring leadership," Five commented.

"Yep," Blair agreed, the sarcasm in her tone astronomically high.

As Diego commanded, the group spread out, the girls going upstairs while the guys stayed downstairs. Blair entered one of the bedrooms, its sweet decor giving the room a very innocent vibe. The white bed-sheets were made perfectly, and not a speck of dust covered any of the pristine oak furniture. Someone had seriously been cleaning up after themselves.

Maybe it was Harold, Blair thought, her left hand grabbing at a small plush pig sitting on the dresser. Although what serial killer would keep their house so neat?

"Guys, you need to see this," Allison's voice echoed from above.

Blair rushed out of the bedroom and saw that the entrance to the attic was down. She climbed up and immediately saw what Allison was looking at. Honestly, Blair wanted to look away from how grossly creepy it was, but she forced herself to move closer and inspect the shrine to her family in its full stalker-y glory.

"All our faces are burnt off," Allison pointed out, her eyes caught on her doll Allison's melted stub of a neck where her head should have been.

"Well, that's not creepy. This guy's got some serious issues," Diego commented.

"Shit," Diego and Five marveled in synchronization.

"This was never about Vanya," Allison theorized, "this was about us."

A loud thump made Blair pull back from her up close look at a burnt off Ben head, and when she looked towards her siblings, one head was missing. Her gaze dropped to the floor and she saw Five crumpled up on it, groaning in pain as his hands held his stomach.

"Woah, what?" Blair dropped to the floor next to Five and looked towards his stomach. Blood was peeking through his sweater, so she pulled the material up to take a closer look at the issue.

"Jesus, Five," Diego gasped as Five's shrapnel wound became fully exposed. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Five, despite obviously being in pain and short of breath, replied, "you have to keep going," in a faint voice. "So... close."

"Five," Allison said, her hands going to shake Five's shoulders as his eyes shut. "Five!"

"Goddamn, he's an idiot," Blair complained. "We need to get him back to the Academy."

It was Grace who healed Five's wound after they brought him back to the Academy. Blair had been under the impression that she had been shut off, but there she had been, medical supplies in hand as she disinfected Five's wound.

Five had slept for a long time after that. In fact, Blair finally got to have a relaxing night of laying in her bed and watching television, something she hadn't done after her Dad's funeral. Besides laying in bed binge watching Game of Thrones, Blair had also gotten to take a well needed shower and find herself some crutches once more. Grace had taken a look at Blair's knee and re-wrapped it, but without surgery, there was nothing more she could do to help Blair. It was possible that with enough time Blair's knee could repair itself, but the chances of that happening were terrifyingly slim.

After a good night of rest, Blair awoke feeling a lot better about everything from the impending apocalypse to her own mental health (the latter wasn't a major priority for her, but it was nice to feel a little more comforted about some of the things that had been happening). It seemed that her feeling of self improvement wasn't only affecting her, however, because it was Klaus that woke her up and told her to go downstairs for breakfast. Drug addict Klaus. Rehab frequent flyer Klaus.

But who was Blair to pass up on free eggs and bacon?

Blair entered the kitchen to find a very obviously hungover Luther and a surprisingly okay looking Five already sat at the table. It appeared that Grace's first aid expertise had genuinely helped with Five's shrapnel wound, which was obviously great news. It was still insane that he hadn't told anyone about it, but Blair supposed she understood where he was coming from. She'd definitely pulled that stunt before.

"Here we go, this'll fix ya," Klaus smiled as he poured Luther a cup of coffee that Five was quick to snatch.

Five sipped on the coffee as his face screwed up in disgust. "Jesus, who do I gotta kill to get a decent cup of coffee?"

Blair took the cup from Five as Luther groaned, "can we get started please?"

"Anyone seen any of the others? Diego? Allison? No?" Klaus wondered, looking around the room as if expecting them to pop up somewhere. "Alright, then, this is the closest thing to a quorum..." Klaus smacked his spatula against the table repeatedly, "...that we're gonna get. Now, listening up. There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just gonna spit it out... yeah."

There was a brief silence before Luther prompted, "Klaus."

"I conjured Dad last night."

There was a longer silence this time as Luther, Five, and Blair stared at their brother in shock.

"You said you haven't been able to conjure anyone in years," Luther contradicted Klaus.

"Ah, yes, I know, but I'm sober. Ta-da!" Klaus exclaimed happily. "I got clean, yesterday, to talk to someone special, and then ended up having this conversation with dear old Daddy himself."

Blair smiled at her brother, genuinely happy that he was sober once again.

"Has anyone got aspirin?" Luther asked.

"Top shelf, next to the crackers."

"Hey, hey, hey. This is serious, guys, alright? This really happened, I swear."

Five took the cup of coffee back from Blair and mused, "okay, fine. I'll play. What did the old man have to say?"

"Well, he gave me the usual lecture about my appearance and my failures in life. Yada yada yada. No surprise there. Even the afterlife couldn't soften a hardass like Dad, right? But he did mention something about his murder, or lack thereof, because... he killed himself."

And the silence returned. It wasn't everyday your brother who dabbles in necromancy tells you that your dad actually committed suicide and wasn't murdered like you had been led to believe. While Luther and Five were looking dubious of their brother's words, Blair was trying her best to accept that he was telling the truth for his own sake. No one ever believed Klaus, but Blair was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, unlike her other siblings.

"I don't have time for your games, Klaus," Luther complained.

"No, no, I'm telling you the truth, Luther. I'm telling you the truth."

Blair snatched the coffee cup back from Five and took a sip. "So, what was his motive? Was he just really depressed?"

"He said it was the only way to get us all home again."

"No, Dad wouldn't just kill himself," Luther disagreed.

Five took back the cup again and stated, "you said it yourself. He was depressed. Holed up in his office and room all day and night."

"No, there weren't any signs. Suicidal people exhibit certain tendencies, strange behaviors."

"Like sending someone to the moon for no reason?" Klaus challenged.

Luther's eyes turned darker as he threatened, "I swear to God, Klaus, if you're lying..."

"I'm not, I'm not."

"Master Klaus is correct," Pogo stated as he suddenly entered the room. "Regretfully..., I helped Master Hargreeves enact his plan."

"What?"

"So did Grace," Pogo elaborated. "It was a difficult choice for both of us. More difficult than you could ever know. Prior to your father's death, Grace's programming was adjusted so that she was incapable of administering first aid on that fateful night."

Five set the cup he and Blair shared down on the table while he commented, "sick bastard."

"So the security tape we saw?" Luther asked.

"It was meant to further the murder mystery. Your father hoped that being back here, solving it together... would reignite your desire to be a team again."

Blair groaned and dropped her head into her hands. Of course he would pull a stunt like that, of fucking course.

"To save the world, of course," Pogo said, attempting to justify their father's reasoning behind committing suicide.

Klaus giggled, his expression full of disbelief. "Alright."

"First the moon mission and now this," Luther fumed. "You watched me search for answers and said nothing. Anything else you want to share, Pogo? Any other damn secrets?"

"Hey, calm down," Blair snapped, hating to see Pogo get shit for following orders. "It's not Pogo's fault our Dad was a dick."

"No, I won't calm down," Luther fired back. "We've been lied to by the one person in this family we all trusted."

Blair rolled her eyes and took another sip of her coffee.

"It was your father's dying wish, Master Luther," Pogo admitted. "I... I had no choice."

Luther walked forward, getting close enough to Pogo to tower over him. In a low voice, he snapped, "there's always a choice."

Number One exited the room, his frustrated aura lingering behind, however. Pogo took his leave shortly after, leaving Klaus, Five, and Blair sat at the table with their heads in their hands.

"I gotta think," Five said before disappearing into the air.

Blair rubbed one hand along her temple, trying to wrap her head around the newly discovered cause of her father's death. There were other ways he could have summoned his kids, he didn't need to off himself just to get them together again.

"So," Blair trailed off, trying to find the words to say to Klaus. "Uh, next time maybe make more cups of coffee."

episode seven : the day that was
episode eight : i heard a rumor