"𝐴 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑛𝑑: 𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑."
—𝐺𝑟𝑎ℎ𝑎𝑚 𝐺𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛𝑒, 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐸𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐴𝑓𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟

𝒩.
𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒 she entered her apartment, using one hand to lock the door behind her as she used the other to set her hair free from the tight bun it had been in.

Her eyes glanced over to the clock as she slid the hair tie on her wrist, seeing that it was a little after six.

She tossed her keys onto the kitchen counter that went along the corner of the room and put her purse on the glass dining table before running her fingers through her hair, detangling all the knots that had been formed.

She then headed into her bedroom to change into something much more comfortable: a loose t-shirt and a pair of leggings.

Once she had changed and tossed the clothes she had been wearing into the laundry basket, she headed into her bathroom and washed off all the makeup that had endured the day.

After patting her face dry, she gazed at herself in the mirror for a few moments, inspecting all of her features: her cheekbones and jawline were a little more prominent than when she had been a teenager, her skin was growing a little pale from the lack of sun she's been getting, and there were little red indents at the top of her cheeks from the safety goggles she had been wearing all day.

After rubbing at those indents, Natalia shut the bathroom lights off and headed into her living room.

Her ears perked up at the sound of the telephone ringing. She quickly used her telekinesis to pick up the cordless phone that sat on one of the side tables in the living room and bring it to her hand.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Lia!" greeted Allison from the other end. "Have time to chat?"

"For you? Always," Natalia replied back with a small grin. She sat down on her couch, facing the TV as she lounged back on it and asked, "How've you been? I haven't talked to you for a few weeks!"

"Oh, the same," Allison sighed. "Busy with work, and, of course, Claire."

Natalia smiled at the thought of the little girl whose bright eyes always made her day. "How's my favourite niece doing?"

"Well, she's your only niece, so I'd hope she's your favourite," Allison pointed out with a laugh. "And she's doing great! She just started her second year of kindergarten, so she's excited about that."

"Oh, I bet," Natalia agreed. "School is great."

"Says the professor."

Natalia shrugged, a guilty smile playing on her lips. "Okay, I guess I'm a little biased."

"Speaking of," Allison suddenly said, "how was work?"

"The usual. Gave a lecture, helped people in my lab . . ." Natalia trailed off, squinting her eyes a little. "That's pretty much it."

"Ah, and is chemistry as boring as usual?" Allison quipped, causing Natalia to roll her eyes in amusement.

"If by boring you mean awesome and revolutionary, then yes."

"Nerd."

"Oh, shut up," she laughed.

"And . . ." Allison's voice became a little tentative as she asked, "how's your love life going?"

Natalia's nose immediately wrinkled, and she muttered, "I think you know the answer."

"Aw, come on!" Allison groaned loudly. "Have you even gone on a date in the past month?"

"I've gone on, like, three!" she protested, running a hand through her hair.

"And?"

Natalia sighed. "Well, the first guy—his name's Jonathon—showed up twenty minutes late, and he spent, like, half the date on his phone."

"Yikes."

"Mhm. The second guy, Ezra, had nothing in common with me, and a lot of the date was kinda just . . . awkward silence."

"Gross."

"And the third one, Sawyer, straight-up douchebag."

"Ugh. Wait—what happened to . . . what's his name . . ." Allison was silent for a moment as she thought to herself, and, in realization, she exclaimed, "Oh! Theo! You went on a few dates with him, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I liked him," Natalia confirmed as she rested her head back against the couch. She scrunched her face as she thought about the man—who was quite handsome, with his short, brown hair and glimmering green eyes—and she sighed. "Turns out, he was married."

"What?!" Allison exclaimed in horror.

"Mhm," she hummed.

Allison's voice lost no trace of shock as she asked, "How'd you find out?"

She frowned. "Got a special little visit from his wife while we were on a date."

"That's rough."

"Tell me about it." She groaned as she switched her position so that she was laying down on the couch, and rested her free hand on her stomach. "I'm never gonna find love, Alli."

"Oh, come on," Allison laughed. "We're only twenty-seven, you have plenty of time."

Natalia quirked an eyebrow as she pointed out, "You literally got married when we were, what, twenty? Twenty-one?"

"Hey, love finds people at different times." Allison paused for a moment before adding on, "In fact, it technically found you first."

Natalia sighed, blocking the thought of him before it could even come to her mind. "Don't even talk about that, I'm done with him."

"I'm just sayin'."

"Whatever." Natalia sighed once more before asking, "Anyway, when's the next time you're visiting? I miss you and Claire, and Patrick, too, I guess."

Natalia had never been that big of a fan of Patrick. Maybe it was because he acted like a big-shot celebrity (though, in his defence, he was famous). Maybe it was because he seemed a little too opinionated when it came to their powers. But whatever the reason was, Natalia never thought of him as the right guy for Allison.

Of course, she never really said that to her; Allison seemed pretty happy with her husband.

"I'm not sure when," Allison answered, causing Natalia to frown. "I have a pretty tight schedule now, especially with Claire's school starting again. I'll try and make it for at least Christmas."

Natalia grinned. "Well, you better, because Auntie Lia is gonna have the best present for Claire."

"And for me, too?"

"Oh, you know it," she promised.

Natalia's attention turned to the foyer as she heard the sound of a buzzer, and her eyebrows furrowed; she hadn't been expecting anyone.

"I gotta go," Natalia told her as she sat up and smoothed the back of her hair down. "Someone's at the door."

"Talk soon."

"Mhm," Natalia hummed before giving a quick goodbye and hanging up.

Once she put the phone back where it belonged, she got up and went over to her foyer. She pressed the talk button on the buzzer that was mounted next to the door and greeted, "Hello?"

"It's me!"

With an amused smile on her face, Natalia then pressed the button that would grant him access to the building and leaned against the counter as she waited for him to arrive.

A minute later, there was a flurry of knocks on the door.

Shutting her eyes and praying that he didn't want anything from her (namely, money for drugs and booze), Natalia pulled the door open to reveal just who she expected.

"Hi, Klaus."

"Hey, my favourite not-sister!" Klaus greeted with a grin. He quickly stepped in and embraced her in a tight hug, and her nose wrinkled at the stench of alcohol that came off of him.

She sighed as she pulled away from the hug. "What do you want from me?"

"What?" Klaus questioned, plastering a look of horror onto his face as he put a hand over his heart. "Can't I just hang out with a loved one?"

She raised an eyebrow as she closed the door and locked it. "I'm not giving you money for drugs."

He scoffed, "Why would you assume I want your money?"

"You asked me for fifty dollars two weeks ago."

"That was two weeks ago. I'm a changed man," he promised, giving her a widened smile. He clasped her hands tightly, nodding slightly as he told her, "I just want to sleep over for a couple of nights. Because I love being with you."

Natalia stared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes in amusement and nodding. Though she knew he was mostly just using her, she never said no to some Klaus time. "Fine. Come on."

"Yay!" Klaus clapped his hands together as he followed her into the living room, and plopped down onto one of her white couches. He sprawled himself across it as she sat in a sofa chair that was perpendicular to it, and he asked, "So, what you been up to?"

"Not much," she answered with a shrug. "I just got off the phone with Alli."

"Oh, Allison?" Klaus raised his eyebrows. "How's the big movie star?"

"She's good," Natalia answered. "Busy, as usual."

"Mhm, mhm. Have you . . . ," Klaus licked his lips, a small grin appearing on his face as he cautiously continued, "phoned Diego, too, by any chance?"

Natalia sighed; it was a usual occurrence for Klaus to bring him up in conversation. "No."

"You should call him," Klaus suggested, his eyes darting over to the cordless phone that was charging on a side table.

Her nose wrinkled as she immediately shook her head. "No, I shouldn't."

"You should."

"I shouldn't."

"You should."

"I shouldn't."

"You should."

"I shouldn't."

"Okay, fine," Klaus conceded, causing Natalia to give a sigh of relief. That relief was soon ripped away as he grinned. "I'll do it for you."

"Wha—no!" Natalia grabbed the back of his shirt as he got up from the couch, and she pulled him back to his spot.

"Why not?" Klaus whined, his lips forming into a pout as he longingly reached out towards the phone.

Natalia sighed, sending him a glare as she crossed her arms. "Why do you care so much?"

"Because you guys are meant to be!" Klaus insisted.

She rolled her eyes. "And where'd you get that idea from?"

"From my mind."

"Uh-huh."

"And my mind is never wrong."

Natalia quirked an eyebrow as she pointed out, "It's pretty wrong. A lot of the time, too."

"Just one phone call." Klaus raised a finger to help emphasize his point, and dropped his voice to a pleading whisper, "One."

"None, Klaus," she corrected with a harsh glare.

"One."

"If you keep doing this," she warned, "you don't get to sleep over."

"Fine," Klaus huffed, slouching back on the couch. He was quiet for a moment before furrowing his eyebrows and asking, "Don't you still love him?"

"Klaus," Natalia scoffed, "it's been ten years."

He shrugged. "So?"

"So . . ." she said slowly, "I've moved on from him."

She hadn't. She was lying.

Klaus scoffed, giving a dramatic eye-roll. "Sure."

"Let's talk about something else," Natalia said quickly. "Like, for example, how you still haven't taken my advice and gone to rehab."

"Hey," he protested. "I went to those AA meetings!"

"Because I forced you to!" she pointed out with a glare. "And you stopped going, like, three meetings in!"

Klaus shrugged as he rebutted, "They weren't helping."

"Because you weren't trying," she countered, causing him to giggle.

"Ya got me there."

"Just go to rehab," she pleaded, clasping her hands together. "Thirty days. That's it."

"Mm . . ." Klaus pretended to ponder for a moment, stroking the very little amount of facial hair on his chin. "I think I'm good."

She stared at him for a moment before groaning. "You are insufferable."

"But you love me," he quickly pointed out, sending a blown kiss along with it.

"For some reason," she agreed, the corners of her lips turning upwards.

Klaus grinned before snapping his fingers and suggesting, "Hey, let's watch a movie."

"Sure." Natalia turned her attention to the TV that sat on the TV stand at the front of the room, and asked, "What movie?"

"Love Guru," Klaus immediately answered, and she rolled her eyes in amusement; that was the only movie Klaus ever wanted to watch.

"Gotcha," she said as she got up and walked over to the TV stand.

He jumped to his feet and brushed his pants off. "I'm gonna make popcorn."

"Don't blow up my kitchen," she warned as she crouched down and sifted through her DVDs.

"No promises!" he called as he headed towards the other side of the long room and opened her pantry.

Natalia gave a small chuckle as she found the DVD case, and quickly popped the DVD out. She placed it in the DVD player and turned on her TV.

By the time the movie had begun, Klaus had returned with a bowl of popcorn, and he sat down beside her with a grin.

"By the way, I may or may not have broken a pair of scissors," he murmured quickly as he placed the bowl on his lap.

Natalia's eyebrows furrowed. "How?"

He shrugged, then grabbing a handful of popcorn and stuffing it into his mouth before turning his attention to the movie.

Natalia, however, was finding it difficult to focus on the movie; her mind had begun to drift elsewhere because of what Klaus had said before, and, for some reason, she couldn't pull away.

She still did love Diego. She wasn't sure how—she hadn't spoken to him, much less seen him in the past ten years. How could she be in love with someone who was now a stranger to her?

No matter how many dates she went on, no matter how many boyfriends she had, she couldn't help but feel off and hear a little voice in her head telling her that the guy was not the one for her.

And she so desperately wished that one day soon, she would go on a date, and the little voice would tell her that the guy was the one for her. But she had a strong feeling that that day would come once she saw Diego again.

She knew she would see him again, one day. It was inevitable; they were part of the same family after all. She had been lucky (or unlucky, she wasn't really sure) with the fact that Diego didn't turn up for Allison's wedding.

She knew where he lived—Klaus had told her a long time ago, despite all the refusing she was doing at the time. And she passed by that boxing gym he lived in so many times—sometimes with the intention to go inside. But she could never find the courage to seek him out.

Why?

Well, the answer was simple.

It had been ten years. She doubted that he even remembered her favourite colour by this point.

And she knew, without a doubt, that he most certainly did not love her anymore. And she did not want that to be confirmed. So, away from Diego, she stayed.

By the time Natalia had snapped out of her thoughts, the credits were rolling, the popcorn bowl was empty, and Klaus was fast asleep on her shoulder.

She chuckled lightly as she heard his soft snoring, and gently took the bowl from him before placing it on the coffee table in front of her.

Carefully, she moved Klaus so that he was laying on the couch, with his head settled on the armrest.

She grabbed a light blanket from her closet and laid it on top of him, smiling as he unconsciously gripped the end of it.

Natalia placed a light kiss on the side of his head before murmuring goodnight and shut the TV off. She gave one last glance towards him to make sure he was comfortable before flicking the lights off and heading into her room.

It wasn't that late yet—only a little past eight. But she still seemed to be as tired as Klaus was.

She quickly prepared for bed and laid down with a sigh; she had a long day ahead of her the next day, so it would do her some good to sleep early.

And, her mind completely free of worries over both her friends and possible love interests, Natalia drifted off to sleep.

𝒟.

Diego wiped the little bit of sweat from his forehead and continued to mop the floor, wincing slightly at the squelching sound that came as he transferred the mop from the bucket to the ground.

He didn't really enjoy mopping the gym ground—who would?—but, hey, it paid the bills. Or, at least, gave him a place to stay.

Now, mopping floors wasn't exactly his ideal job, but his ideal job had been thrown out the window a long time ago. Apparently, the police academy couldn't handle Diego's greatness.

He glanced over his shoulder to the police scanner that he had placed on the boxing ring, frowning slightly as he heard nothing but a light static coming from it. He always responded to the call, no matter what it was, and, right now, he was itching for some action.

Sure, he wasn't a police officer, but he knew damn well he could serve justice better than an officer could, anyway.

It was nearing nine o'clock, and, since the gym was already closed, once he was finished mopping the ground, he would be able to go out on the streets and do his duty as defender of the city (a vigilante, if he said so himself).

He couldn't go out for too long, though, he decided as he continued to mop the ground. He had a boxing match the next night, and he knew Nigel—a friend he usually trained with—would work him all day to prepare.

Diego gripped the handle of the mop tightly as he continued, his mopping growing faster as he neared the end.

Once he was done, he quickly shoved the mop back into its bucket and swiftly put everything back where it belonged.

After grabbing the police scanner, he hurried down to his room—a boiler room that he had converted into a bedroom—and entered quickly.

He lifted his tactical chest gear off of the hook that he had implanted in a wooden pole and swiftly strapped it on. He checked to make sure all of his knives were in their proper place before nodding to himself, and he grabbed his gloves from his desk and slid them on.

And then, the final and most important piece: his domino mask.

Although this one wasn't quite like the Umbrella Academy one—it didn't have the white patches over the eyes—it still was similar, and did well in disguising his face.

He reached for the mask that was laying on the desk, and as he picked it up, something fell to the ground.

With furrowed eyebrows, Diego quickly slipped the mask on and bent down to pick up whatever he had dropped.

His jaw clenched and his heart dropped when he saw what it was: the picture he had found himself looking at so often.

They had been so young then—yet, he found his feelings to be unchanged, even ten years later.

How was he still in love with her, a decade later, without even having communicated with her? Well, he wasn't too sure of the answer himself, but all he knew was that Natalia had been, and, let's be honest, still was everything he wanted in a woman and more.

He sighed as he stared at his youthful grin. He knew he had promised himself—silently promised her that he'd find her once she left the Academy, but, surprise, surprise, he had been too chicken.

Diego knew that she had left six years later—a year more than they had originally thought—because she, according to Klaus, had been appointed as a postdoctoral fellow at Columbia University, which was where she, according to Klaus, now worked as an assistant professor.

And, although he had been excited at first, he quickly found himself too nervous to work up the courage to talk to her. The same question began to run in his mind—and still did today: What if she didn't love him anymore? He didn't want his heart to get crushed. He didn't want to know that the woman of his dreams was in love with someone else and out of his reach.

He had even seen her from time to time; at the grocery store, just across the street, at a bar. The first time he had seen her after so long, he had almost stopped breathing; she was, somehow, more beautiful than ever, and it took all of his willpower to not go to her.

Unfortunately for him, half of those times that he had gotten a glimpse of her, she was with a different guy. And to keep his heart from hurting further, he always ran away.

Despite all of Klaus's pleading and insisting, Diego steered clear of the woman he was in love with and focused his time on other things. Other women.

Though, those women were never able to make him happy the same way Natalia was.

Hastily, Diego put the photo back on the desk and covered it with a book, scolding himself for letting himself get distracted. He needed to focus up; there were people in need.

He quickly left his room, taking the police scanner with him as he headed out to his car.

He tossed the scanner onto the passenger seat before taking the driver's seat, and he quickly put the car into reverse.

The sky was already dark, and the streetlights were already illuminating the road as Diego drove down the streets that usually stirred up trouble.

He rolled his shoulders back, keeping one hand on the wheel as he drummed his fingers of the other hand on the armrest. His eyes drifted from house to house as he passed, inspecting the cars in the driveway and the shadows through the windows. Everything seemed okay so far.

Suddenly, his foot slammed against the brake and his breath shortened. An alarm was wailing.

The alarm was suddenly cut short by silence, and Diego's eyebrows furrowed as he looked over to the house where the sound has sourced from: all of the lights were dark, and there were no cars in the driveway. There was, however, a white van (classic) that was parked alongside the sidewalk.

Suspicious.

Diego quickly parked his car in front of the van and hurried out.

He drew a knife, keeping it clutched tightly in his hand as he crept up the poorly kept lawn, and he kept his steps quiet as he came up to the front of the home.

He pressed his back against the brick wall and peered through the window, which seemed to show the living room.

There, difficult to see but definitely there, were four different men of varying statures, and, judging by their quick and tentative movement, they were not the owners of the home.

Diego quickly stepped over to the back of the house and peered through the small window on the door. Squinting his eyes, he was able to tell that no one was there, and he crouched down.

He shoved the tip of the knife into the lock of the door and jimmied it around until he heard the satisfying click that he had been waiting for.

Quietly, he swung the door open and stepped inside. He could immediately hear low voices that were accompanied by rummaging and clinking of glass, and he let the sound guide his way.

He found the entrance to the living room and pressed his back against the wall next to it, keeping his breathing steady and unnoticeable.

His grip on his knife grew stronger, and he peered into the room to see that the four robbers were far too busy shoving things into their duffle bags to notice him.

A grin appeared on Diego's face as he lifted the knife and threw it. It embedded itself into the wall, right next to the head of one of the robbers.

The robber's attention swiftly turned to the knife next to him, and, aloud, he wondered, "What the fu—"

He was cut off as Diego threw another knife, this one instead sinking deep into his back. The robber dropped to the ground with a shriek of pain. 

Instantly, the other three men whipped around with widened eyes to see Diego as he stepped inside.

Two of them, who were on opposite sides of Diego, came charging at him, but he swiftly jumped out of the way right before they could hit him, and, comically, they ran into each other.

Diego watched in amusement as they fell to the ground; he had always thought that it was rather unbelievable when it happened in cartoons, but . . . maybe people were just that stupid.

His back suddenly stiffened as he sensed a presence approaching from behind, and he instantly reacted. He did a back kick, feeling satisfaction as his foot collided with the robber's stomach, and Diego turned and lunged towards him before elbowing him in the face.

The robber let out a soft grunt as he dropped to his knees and clutched at his stomach, and Diego quickly turned back around to see that the other two had recovered.

Diego promptly unsheathed a longer knife and threw it at one of the men, and it pinned him against the wall—through his stomach.

The other one glanced at his now-dead friend in fear before looking back at Diego, and a gleam of vengeance shone through his dark eyes.

He lunged toward Diego, but the vigilante quickly responded as he sent a roundhouse kick to the criminal's face before adding on a back kick to his chest, causing him to fall to the ground.

Diego heard the cock of a gun and turned around to see that the other remaining robber had gotten up and pulled out a gun, which was now pointing straight at him.

Hurriedly, Diego pulled up the guy he had just knocked down and used him as a shield as the other robber began firing. He winced at every shake the man's body gave and each groan, but as soon as he heard the clicks that meant the bullets had run out, he smirked.

He threw the very dead man aside and stared at the last robber for a moment before drawing out a knife. He swiftly launched it towards him, and his satisfaction grew larger than ever as it impaled his gut and sent him to the ground with a grunt.

Diego grinned, putting his hands on his hips as he examined the room. He suddenly paused as he felt another presence come near him, and his eyebrows furrowed. Who was left?

He turned around to see that the first guy he had taken down was, in fact, not dead.

The knife still planted in his back, the robber sneered and clambered his way towards him, though not for long as Diego whipped another knife in his direction.

The knife pierced his chest and knocked him down one final time, and the sense of triumph was back in Diego. 

Another job well done.