"𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝐼 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑎𝑛. 𝐸𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠."
—𝑀𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑙 𝐹𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑟, 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑃𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒

𝒩.

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 twenty near accidents later, they were finally home.

There was hardly a moment between parking the car and scrambling out. Luckily, there was no one roaming the streets to question the bloodied body that Luther and Klaus were carrying in, nor the others' shouts to hurry.

Grace was quickly called, and Pogo joined them in the infirmary not long after. Allison, who was barely even breathing at this point, was placed on the hospital bed, which was soon crowded around.

They watched with bated breath as Grace assessed Allison. She quickly ordered Five to apply pressure to the wound, and he scurried to her side. His hands were soon covered with her blood, though that didn't seem to bother him as he wrapped his hands around Allison's neck.

"She's suffered a severe laceration to her larynx," Grace said hurriedly, then turning to look at the group. "One of you will need to give blood."

Natalia didn't hesitate to volunteer, "I will."

That statement was echoed by the rest of the group, and they all exchanged disgruntled looks.

"I'm doing it," Luther offered, starting to scrunch up his sleeve.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, dear boy." Pogo sighed. "Your blood is more compatible with mine."

"Hey, don't sweat it," Klaus reassured the dismayed Luther. "I—I got this, big guy. I—I love needles."

"Master Klaus," Pogo called as Klaus rounded the bed and slapped his forearm. "Your blood is—how shall I say this?—too polluted."

"Okay, me, I'll do it," Natalia quickly said before anyone else could.

"No," Diego interjected, holding out a hand before she could move, "I got it."

"What?" She scoffed and shook her head. "I already said I would."

"I'm the man and leader; it's my duty to protect—"

"Oh, shut up about that already! You're literally afraid of needles!"

"Afraid? I'm not!"

She scoffed. "You passed out the last time we got the flu shot."

He shrugged and muttered, "The doctor must've slipped me something."

"You know very well—"

"Can one of you just do it?!" exclaimed Luther incredulously, causing them both to shut up and turn to him with widened eyes. 

This time, Natalia didn't stop Diego when he muttered, "Move."

He kept a tough expression on his face as he walked up to Grace, though Natalia knew it was all an act. For someone who used sharp objects as weapons, he sure as hell was afraid of needles. It had taken her about half an hour to convince him to take the flu shot last time, along with the promise of a fun night afterwards. 

And just as she predicted, as soon as Grace brought out the syringe, Diego whimpered and hit the ground.

Pogo gave a grim nod. "Stick him."

While Grace extracted all the blood she needed, Natalia went over to the cabinet and grabbed a cotton ball and bandaid. She knelt down beside him, gently caressing his shoulder as she waited for Grace to finish.

Once all the barrels were filled with his blood, Grace gently took the needle out, and Natalia quickly pressed the cotton ball against the small prick. She put pressure on it for a few seconds before swiftly peeling the bandaid and applying it.

Diego's eyes slowly opened a moment later. He blinked a couple of times before sitting up, and he glanced at the bandaid. He cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed. "Already over?"

"Mhm." Natalia helped him to his feet, and she then noticed that everyone, save for Luther, had already cleared the room. "You handled that like a champ, didn't you?"

"Shut up," he mumbled.

"This'll take a while," said Grace, who was slipping on a new pair of latex gloves. "Why don't you two go rest up?"

Natalia nodded. She took Diego's hand and led him out of the infirmary. She glanced back at Luther, watching as Grace told him the same thing, though he just shook his head and pulled up a chair.

"Better get some sleep," muttered Diego, his hand tightening. "Need energy for when we kill that motherfucker."

Natalia tsked at the threat, though she didn't disagree on sleep. Now that the adrenaline rush was gone, she was exhausted, and her body was aching from being crammed inside the car for so long.

She went towards Diego's room, and once she was inside, she pulled open the closet. She grabbed Allison's pyjamas, which she had left the other day. She let Diego close the door first before changing.

Natalia was more than eager to get in the bed. The soft mattress and warm blanket were far more inviting than the cold leather of the car seat.

As she slipped under the covers, she looked over at Diego, who was unbuckling his gear. "You're seriously gonna sleep in that again?"

"What," he replied with a frown, "you don't like this outfit?"

"Not when it smells like blood!" She sighed. "Just throw that in the laundry and borrow something from Klaus."

"I'd rather kill myself, Nat."

She shrugged. "How about Luther?"

Diego hesitated before giving begrudgingly muttering, "I'll ask Klaus."

He swiftly returned with a small pile of clothes in his hands. Diego gave a rather dramatic sigh as he took his shirt and pants off, and he paused in his nearly naked state.

"You wouldn't rather me just sleep like this?"

She had to admit that her eyes lingered on his torso for a little longer than she preferred (she would rather not boost his ego), but their childhood home wasn't the place for this. "Not when your mother or Pogo could walk in! Not to mention any of your brothers!"

He pursed his lips and shrugged. "Fair enough."

She watched as he pulled on Klaus' tie-dye t-shirt, which, while pretty loose on Klaus, was tight-fitting on Diego. She snorted when she saw the flowy, hipster pants that Klaus had lent, and Diego glared at her.

"I'm not wearing these," he muttered, tossing the pants to the ground. "If Mom sees me in my fuckin' boxers, so be it."

He switched the lights off before joining her in bed. At first, all she could smell was the flowery perfume from Klaus' shirt, though that was soon replaced by Diego's familiar scent as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close.

"I never got around to sayin'," he muttered before kissing the top of her head: "thank you for fighting so hard for me today, princess."

By the sound of his voice, she could tell that he was already falling asleep, so she was quick to kiss the tip of his nose and murmur back, "I'd do anything for you, my love."

𝒩.

"The bastard that nearly killed our sister's still out there, with Vanya. We need to go after her."

They had only managed a few hours of sleep before rage and the hunger for revenge arose. The sun had barely even waked yet, and a cool blue soaked the room instead of the usual golden rays.

"Vanya is not important," rebutted Five, limping to the middle of the living room.

"Hey, that's your sister," Natalia, who was sitting beside Klaus on the couch, chided. "A little heartless even for you, Five."

"I'm not saying I don't care about her, but if the apocalypse happens today, she dies along with the other seven billion of us." Five's accusing tone softened as his gaze turned pleading. "Harold Jenkins is our first priority."

"I agree," stated Diego. "Let's go."

Natalia got up as Diego and Five started to head for the exit, though she paused when Klaus called:

"You guys count me out." And when they all gave him looks of incredulity, he continued, "I mean, you know, no offence or whatever. It's just . . . I kind of feel like this is a whole lot of pressure for newly-sober me, so—"

"You're coming," Diego interjected.

"No, no, no—I mean, I think we can all agree that my power's" —he shook his head— "I mean, it's pretty much useless. I'd just be holding you guys back."

"Klaus," Five ordered, "get up."

"You can't make me."

That decision quickly changed when Diego's knife landed just between Klaus' legs.

"Oh, then again," he said lightly as he got up, "a little exercise couldn't hurt."

Natalia looped her arm through Klaus'—half so that he didn't run away, half because she needed something to support her drained body—and followed the other two out the door. 

The trip to Jenkins' house didn't take too long, and Natalia became a little nervous. If this guy was able to take Allison out despite her powers, how much of a match would they be for him? A limping thirteen/sixty-year-old, a sobering hippie, a Walmart Batman, and an over-exhausted scientist didn't seem very frightening.

As it turned out, Natalia had absolutely no reason to be worried—because a dead body proved to be of no harm.

"It's not exactly what I was expecting."

Harold Jenkins' body was laid in front of them, stabbed, mutilated, destroyed. Kitchen knives, scissors, screwdrivers—anything sharp, really—were spiked within every inch of his upper body. Shattered glass glimmered around him, and one leg was perched upon the broken table.

Natalia stared at the body in horror. Who on Earth could've done this?

"The understatement of the year," Five replied to Klaus.

Natalia glanced around. "No sign of Vanya."

"Let's get out of here before the cops come," muttered Diego, turning around.

Just as Natalia and Klaus made to follow him, Five called, "In a minute."

They turned around to see him crouch down beside Jenkins' body. He pulled something out of his pocket—the glass eyeball, Natalia realized upon closer inspection—and examined it for a moment. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she watched him reach over and peel off the man's eyepatch. 

"Come on, Five, what are you . . ." Natalia resist the urge to vomit as she watched Five carefully place the glass eye in Jenkins' eye socket. It was too early to watch something as gross as this.

"Ugh," Klaus murmured, stepping closer and watching with furrowed brows. "Wow."

"Same eye colour, same pupil size—guys, this is it!" Five turned to them in excitement. "The eye I've been carrying around for decades, it—it's found its rightful home."

As Five removed the eyeball and returned it to his pocket, Diego realized, "We got the guy we needed to kill to stop the apocalypse."

Natalia couldn't believe it. All that worrying, all the fighting—just for the very cause of the apocalypse to disappear due to who knows what. Not that she minded, of course. She much rather preferred just finding his dead body than having to work towards it. 

"Yay," cheered Klaus before sighing. "Let's go."

"No, no. Wait, wait!" Five called, and Diego grabbed the back of an escaping Klaus' jacket vest. "It can't be this easy." He got to his feet and pulled out the crinkled paper they had seen before. "Look, this is the note that I got from the Commission—the one that says, 'Protect Harold Jenkins,' AKA Leonard Peabody."

Diego furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"But who killed him?" Five insisted. "Who did this?"

"I have a crazy idea," sarcastically suggested Klaus, "crazy—but why don't we find Vanya . . . and ask her what happened?"

Glancing at the spot where Five had just been (he had teleported away while Klaus was talking), Natalia cleared her throat and pointed out, "If Vanya got away from this asshole, she might be headed back to the Academy."

Diego gave one last look to the body before nodding. "Let's go."

As soon as they got back, they split up. Natalia checked everywhere on the main floor—the living room, Reginald's office, the courtyard—but unfortunately, she was nowhere to be found. For good measure, she checked Vanya's room, though she just found Diego, who shook his head. 

She followed him out into the hallway, where they met Five and Klaus. Judging by their lack of enthusiasm, they hadn't had any luck in finding Vanya either. 

Five sighed. "No sign of Vanya."

Diego shook his head. "She's not in any of the rooms."

"She's not downstairs either," Klaus added.

"Well," sighed Diego, patting Klaus on the shoulder, "I'm out."

"Wait," called Natalia, her eyebrows furrowing as Diego continued toward the bedrooms. "Where are you going?"

"Vanya's still out there and so are Hazel and Cha-Cha," Five added.

"I know." Diego turned his head to face them. "I'm gonna get my things and then I'm out of here. I got some unfinished business with those fools."

Natalia groaned.

She left Klaus and Five and followed after Diego. She was sure he could hear her brisk footsteps, though he instead chose to ignore her and hurry on.

"Diego, come on!" she called as he entered his room. "You can't relax for one minute?"

"No, Nat, I can't." He sighed, glancing up at her as he began to fix his gear. "You promised me that I could just finish it off with them."

"I know, but . . ." She pressed her lips together as she sat down on the edge of his bed. "I mean, the past week we've been running around, trying to save the world. Now that everything's okay, can't we just . . . sit for a little? Actually enjoy a part of our day?"

She could tell that Diego was slowly breaking as he frowned and looked down at his gear. "I don't have much time."

"What are you talking about?" she chuckled, and she spread her arms. "We've got all the time in the world now."