CW⚠️ : Diego being the flirty little shit he is, descriptions of dead bodies (canon deaths from Five's flashback), a ridiculously long chapter (this is what happens when you have me go offscript) please take breaks & rest your eyes

a.n.📝: I'm not kidding, 90-95% of this chapter is Diego x R fluff to make up for ep 1. I hope you enjoy, & I hope you can understand why it took me so long 😅 + I recommend listening to Majestic by Wax Fang & keep the roof scene in mind - only if you're interested ofc

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

☂︎ 𝔱𝔰𝔲 | ❛ ᴀ ꜱɪɢʜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏʀᴇ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ❜

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

❛❛ 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘, ❜❜ That's what Diego had told you. Those exact words, ironic as they were, became the very three words it took for your heart to trust his completely and truly.

You hadn't realized it, not like Diego had. But the sun had already begun to set on today. Days were far, far quicker above ground than they were below. And that was after the fact you had been up on the roof most of that day. But you couldn't help it. You were lost in your head, drunk on the view and the taste of freedom.

You were certain you would never forget the feeling you first stepped onto the academy's roof. As sure as Diego was certain he'd never forget taking you there.

The trip up had your stomach in knots. Despite his reassuring words, the events of the past half-hour were still much too fresh. But, you tried to remind yourself, so were his actions thereafter. You couldn't stop thinking about the little things. Like him asking to enter your space. He always did that.

And that meant something.

You decided to take it as a good sign you were traveling up rather than down, though that did little to quell any budding fears when you reached the top of a singular stairwell. At the top, shining through the dark, were three prominent strips of electric blue light. They would have reminded you of G.R.E.G.O.R.Y.'s face had it not looked like daylight fighting its way through the cracks of a door. And as you soon found out, that's exactly what it was.

It opened slowly and with a terrible creak. The air getting vacuumed inside and over your skin still wasn't the most startling thing, and neither was the blinding light flooding in. It was the view marvelously laid out before you when your eyes finally adjusted to the light.

It was tempting to get confused; standing all around you and Diego were brick walls with several detailed arches leading out to the rest of the roof.

But you were too focused on the sky. The clouds had all but faded away, leaving the sky a beautiful baby blue. Little white wisps of clouds were smeared across like paint. G.R.E.G.O.R.Y. taught you all about the clouds, the water cycle-everything a child typically learns. But he never told you how beautiful they were. He never told you how entrancing it was to watch them glide across the sky if you watched carefully enough.

A powerful gust of wind swept through, nearly knocking you off your feet in your trance. You hadn't even realized Diego had gently been guiding you along to the center of the roof with you on his arm until the wind crashed over you. Neither were you aware of the way he had been observing your reaction. Diego was finding it harder and harder to hold back his growing interests in you; you were so endlessly curious to him. In the most unexpected ways.

An image he had failed to shake from his mind was that of your first taste of freedom. Diego would have allowed himself to consider it such a privilege to witness it, had he not been blaming himself for finding you sooner. For even being associated with that man in any manner. But he would be lying if he said he hadn't been yearning to see another glimpse.

He saw it in your eyes now. The way your e/c irises were magnified behind the pools growing in your eyelids. Your jaw hung slack, pulled apart in a glorious smile as the wind whipped at your collar. It was clear you were trying to soak up every detail. And so was Diego.

"Diego..." You break free from your spell long enough to meet his gaze with a look he can't quite place.

Diego is unable to bite back the confident smirk poking into his cheekbones. "You like it?" Joyous laughter is your response and his chest swells with pride. Strolling further down the old moss-dusted path, the two of you gladly took in your surroundings with care.

The roof you now found yourselves on was half bathed in afternoon sunlight, setting every leaf of topiary ablaze with green. Vines crawled up the brick walls of the adjoining buildings, moss leaked from the mortar and the small fields of grass at your disposal stood tall from lack of care.

Looking down at the brick beneath your feet, you note the enormous brass symbols worked into the ground; a "U" and an "A" overlapping one another.

"Umbrella Academy," Diego said, once again reading your mind. You tore your eyes up from the signet and at Diego. He sounded different. The way he sounds when he talks about his father, the Monocle, you noted. It saddened you, and so did the faraway look he was disappearing into. "You see, we're like you,"

Your earlier conversation with Luther came rushing back as he spoke. Superstrength. That was Luther's special. But you realized you didn't know Diego's. Now didn't feel the proper time to ask, so you remained silent.

"We all have things we can do," With a bitter edge in his voice, Diego gazes wistfully down at the bronze signet. "Well, turns out, that's the reason he wanted us in the first place. We were out saving the world before most of us had even gotten acne," With a bitter breath you barely caught, he gestured to the symbol laid out before the two of you and met your eyes with shockingly little sadness. It was as if he had accepted it long ago. "Called us, the Umbrella Academy,"

The name drew so many questions. For both of your sakes, you decided you'd much rather focus on that than the friction building in your blood that came with the anger in hearing such things. The curiosity was written clearly on your face as you studied the pavement with a small tilt of your head. "You had umbrellas?"

He barely managed a breathy chuckle. "No," he answered lightly, already feeling disarmed. "It was just a name. He named us after him."

A scoff broke loose without you thinking, but you didn't regret it. It matched the dissatisfied frown screwed onto your face. Why were you not surprised by this new information?

"You seem upset?" Diego wondered aloud, curious to have caught on to your huff of annoyance.

"Yes," you answer, unable to help the hotness in your tone. "That is very upsetting,"

Were you mad on Diego's behalf or was he imagining things again? He wasn't sure what was more dangerous: how hopeful he was that you were, or him looking for little such moments. Nevertheless, he shook it away. It was hardly appropriate. But how was he to know you were only just wondering similar things.

"He was a very upsetting man," Diego replies. The warmth in his voice betrays his words, as does the fond curiosity lurking beyond his gaze. Thankfully, for him, it seemed to be lost on you.

You were too engrossed in thought. One you decided to voice with great interest. "Your parents..." you spoke slowly, as you had been the longer you spoke. Not for lack of knowledge, but experience. You were nervous and you spoke every syllable carefully in fear of messing up. Almost like you were picturing the words in your mind. "You trusted them?"

Diego didn't give much thought at all. "My mother? Absolutely. My father is another story,"

Thoughtfully, and albeit more than a bit relieved, you nodded. And then a horrible thought crossed your mind. One that plunged spikes of dread in your stomach like a pin cushion. It made your arms around his feel as heavy as lead and it wouldn't be long before you made that true.

"Do--" you winced inwardly at how small your voice came out. You cleared your throat of that sentence, hoping to pull Diego's attention on you, only to find it already was. It was an action you suddenly regretted. "Trust me?"

"I do,"

That doubt returned to your heart. That shadow looming over you like a storm could, telling you this was all a dream. "Why?"

Diego smiled sadly at this.

"I couldn't say for sure," he says, this time not shying away from your you, but instead, locking you in his gaze. He always swears to himself he feels lighter on his feet as you look at him, entrapped, but he doesn't let this break his message to you. He can't. "Trust is... tricky. Sometimes it's obvious, sometimes it doesn't make a lick of sense. And sometimes" his crooked grin spilling this confession has frozen you completely. And he knows it. "it just happens,"

You took his words with such care, but you held them so tight to the heart liquifying in your chest. You couldn't say why, but it just made sense. Maybe you didn't have to understand why. Maybe you just had to trust.

A sharp breath was drawn into your lungs, one that you relished as the cold air lashed at the walls of your nostrils and lungs refreshingly as you returned your attention to the view. The air was nippy, especially from up here, despite the warm blanket of sun fighting its way through the buildings as it made its way to bed. It was so wonderfully surreal and simple and you couldn't get enough of any of it.

Then and there, Diego's promise rang again in your mind. "Where the stars shine the brightest,"

Something jittery swept through your system like electricity-something like excitement. And you were pleased to see it was already spreading to Diego like wildfire. "What?"

"Show me,"

"Show you...?" He chuckled.

Eyes hungrily searching the roof, looking for the best spot, you replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe. "Where the stars shine the brightest," Diego found himself tethered to your side with a small 'Woah!' as you wandered along your shared journey on the roof, but he didn't exactly complain. He wasn't the only one to find himself in your subconscious pull; the grass around you swayed like kelp underwater before reaching out for your legs and the overhanging branches nearby bowed regally before you two.

Diego was in a state of wonder, just as much as you were.

"I mean," he scratched behind his ear-the one with the scar-sheepishly. "I hate to say it but this is probably the best spot. Well, other than up there,"

You followed his finer to one of the adjacent buildings. Its roof stood about one story taller, with no stairs, no fire escape, and only a small concrete platform that remained part of a glass shed. A greenhouse, you recalled. The sight painted the largest, cheek-stinging grin anyone had ever worn.

"But I don't see us getting up there without a ladder, but no promises that thing hasn't been eaten by termites-- hey what are you doing?"

Diego really needed to think before he spoke. Already in his jitters, he had forgotten who he was talking to until he found himself pulled along in a gathering sprint. Your hand was locked in his as you lead the way, an untamed grin splitting your cheeks apart as you came alive. The brick wall adjacent to the greenhouse was getting closer and closer.

"Jump and kick," you ordered. "When I say,"

"What?!"

It was the only time you broke your focus away from the wall, and it was lightning fast. But you smiled knowingly. "Trust me,"

"Jump!" Diego did just that and instantly you shifted his world a second time.

It felt like one of those drinking bird desk toys. His whole center of gravity shifted, and suddenly he was falling back down. But not where he came from. The pull started in his gut and fell through his legs-he understood now why you told him to kick-but the most disorienting thing was the journey back to the ground which turned out to be the journey up the wall. The two of you remained in a sprint, but rather than a brick wall lined with ivy as his destination, the scene ahead was nothing but boundless sky. The two of you were running up the side of the building.

When it happened again after the two of you moved onto the second, he wished he could say he had been more prepared. But the truth was his stomach was too busy trying to figure out what was down and what was sideways. Through his popping ears he could make out your jovial laughter and the glimpses he (was pretty sure) he caught through his dizzying vision depicting the grin set free on your face. You were in your element, and he was quite literally just along for the ride.

He guessed he was about as heavy to you as a paperweight, making all the jumping, hurtling, and climbing you did for yourself and him a piece of cake. The sight waiting for him when he opened his eyes wasn't unfamiliar, but it took him a great deal of breathing and clutching steady ground as he catches his bearings enough to recognize you were at least two or three levels up on the roof. Already you were having the most fun you had ever imagined possible. But it didn't last long.

Paranoia set it at his disheveled state, swirling your head with dangerous thoughts. He was sick from what you had done, had that meant his father was right about you?

"Diego!" His head spun but he still made an effort to meet your eyes at the concern laced in your voice.

"I think... I'm gonna hurl," He drew a lazy, out-of-breath smile on his face, and fear's icy grip on your heart loosened. "...We totally gotta do that again,"

Was he serious? You only shook your head, allowing yourself for the first time to enjoy the small the flip of your stomach as you turned away to hide the smothered simper. Diego couldn't help but feel as though the silence you left him in was a little more intentional this time around.

His eyes never left you as you joined him to sit, taking a spot on the ledge nearby. A thick patch of ivy sat under you like a cushion as the two of you looked out onto the city, just barely in the shelter of the shade. The wind whipped at your clothes, but as you dared peer down over your legs and the traffic below, you wondered if it had anything to do with the cars. Your stomach plunged back down underground before you could decide, and your hand latched onto Diego's bicep to steady yourself. Now he was laughing.

You smiled sheepishly at him, and he at you. For reasons you couldn't understand you felt a tiny stutter in your chest when he silently brought your attention to the fact your hand was still on his bicep. Fearing you crossed a line, you drew it back and ignored the heat dusting your ears knowing it would soon be melted in the wind.

So many new feelings, thoughts, and phenomena came with freedom that you couldn't have possibly predicted. Questions, you were expecting. And lots and lots of fear. But not quite an ally in someone so close to The Monocle. Not quite so many laughs. And certainly not this much trust.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The world was quiet and still. So unlike Five's mind. He couldn't remember the last time he had known peace and quiet-genuine contentment. He likes to think it was those precious ten years; just him and his best friend, cracking jokes, keeping one another sane. Always looking out for one another. Or, of course, his days with his siblings before everything went to shit. When they were still kids, playing hero and sneaking out to Griddy's every chance they got.

But those days were over. His siblings had lives of their own and the friend he met today was a total stranger. Hell, he might as well have been a ghost.

Five gave himself a disapproving shake of the head as he came to stand at the arching mouth of his destination. Nothing has changed, he reminds himself. She was still lost to him forever.

But not everyone was. Hope still remained, waiting to be reclaimed. Five recalled the day he found her, not that different from how he found his best friend; lost and lonely, just like he was.

Only she had been found right here, in the (not yet) ruins of the department store he found himself at now. Not quite eleven years after the worst day of Five's life, just when he needed her most.

Delores.

With bated breath and starvation for a proper reunion, Five disappeared inside Gimble Brothers in the blink of an eye to retrieve his long-lost love.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The setting sun that had set the sky ablaze in a fiery explosion of color was a sight difficult to part with. Even for someone who lived to see a thousand sunsets. And yet, as the evening wore on, you had found it easier and easier to look away and at the man at your side.

"Sunsets," you had whispered, loving the taste of the word on your tongue and actually putting it to something real. "...always like this?"

It was silent for a moment as Diego tried to recall, but nothing came even remotely close. As he took in the sight before him-the deep sapphire sky directly above that somehow fell into a blazing gold where it met the blinding ball of fire disappearing behind the tips of the city-he fished his memory for a time he enjoyed a sunset quite like this one. But the answer was simple. He couldn't.

"Each one has its own charm," he had answered with a knowing grin, pleased to find you were already looking at him.

"Mm," you nodded thoughtfully. Had he caught a twinkle in your eye, he didn't know for sure. You were already turning back to the view, your eyes fluttering closed as a soothing breeze washed over you both.

What had remained of the retreating sun was soaking into your s/c skin, breathing in life and an energy you hadn't seen properly in decades. It was warm and persistent, and you could see it through your eyelids. But you weren't complaining. It was such a wonderful concept to you, the sun; a force locked away so far out of reach, and yet it was impossible to ignore. Nothing could stop its power, it demanded to be seen.

The thought of missing out on even a single one of these made your heart ache. Instead, you chose to focus on Diego. He was enjoying the view too, you could tell. As he sat beside you, basking in the sunlight, you could sense the tension leaving his shoulders and his jaw didn't look as clenched as you normally saw it. His dark eyes were set on the horizon, letting in rays of sun that unveiled hidden undertones of golden brown. And this was the first time you truly took note of the scar stretching from the outermost corner of his cheekbone to the apex of his ear. What stuck with you most was the fact that Diego looked just as relaxed as you were feeling. It made you wonder if this was some form of escape for him as a child. Nothing wrong with asking, right?

With a polite tilt of your head that you were quite proud of, you mustered up the courage to ask him. "Come here often?"

To say Diego was taken by surprise would be the understatement of the century. A low chuckle sparked deep in his chest that had you rethinking everything and sending a delicate heat migrating up each of your faces for very different reasons. While your heart sank, his flittered and for the first time since getting to know Diego, you regretted putting that shy smile of his on his face.

"What?"

He shook his head as he tried (unsuccessfully) to wipe any evidence of his amusement from his face.

"Diego," you had meant to sound assertive, but your embarrassment got the best of you, your voice instead coming out as more of a plea.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he placed a temporary hand on his chest as a sign of apology. "Really. It's just," He has to bite back another smirk to get through his next sentence but he manages to pull it off without laughing. It would have been easier for you to recognize this had you been able to identify the specific glint in his eye. "I wasn't expecting that and-- well, its just... that's kind of a famous pick-up line,"

"A 'pick-up'?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, not quite knowing why he was talking like he was expecting you to know what any of these meant. Maybe he was just nervous. "You know, a come-on,"

Growing exasperated, you shook your head expecting a better answer. "
...'Come on'?" you certainly had no idea what had Diego acting so strange.

He simply cleared his throat and returned his sights on the skyline; the sun had already sunk behind the horizon completely, though its remaining light still cast the sky in a comforting glow. "It's nothing, really. Just something unoriginal people try on others they want to, em," he laughed again but it was the kind to clear the air-you could tell it wasn't at your expense. "Get to know them better,"

It took the wagging of his eyebrows and a few suggestive nods for it to click, but when it did, you were surprised to find yourself laughing along with him. Another heat rose to your face that you buried in your hand. "Oh," you mumbled, suddenly unable to meet his eye right away. "Sorry,"

"Don't be," You don't have to be seeing him to know he wears an untamed grin on his face, you can hear it in his voice. It shouldn't be this infectious.

He felt the pull again. It wasn't strong enough to do anything but send another pleasant shiver down his spine, completely oblivious to the fact you could feel his stare in the side of your head. He liked that you said that, though he probably shouldn't-even though he had understood your question. But Diego could never bring himself to tell you he felt this way. He'd never want to make you uncomfortable, or have you take it the wrong way.

"...I knew what you meant," he said instead. The amusement quickly dwindles when he considers your question and its answer. "And... yeah, I did. When I was younger. Not a whole lot, but, whenever I could. Whenever I needed to get away from my dad."

"It was actually my mom who showed me the beauty in this place," he says after a beat. Diego knows he's taking a risk, but the words come tumbling out anyway. He couldn't help it. His mother was an integral part of his life-he was who he was because of her.

A silence fell on your shoulders as delicately as fallen snow, and a realization much like that of last night when viewing The Monocle's portrait with him hits you. She was still his mother. And the bond they held was something indestructible. You could never bring yourself to stand between them.

You knew what it was like to have your mother removed from your life, and you decided it was something you would never wish on anyone. Particularly Diego.

"She is... special to you," Diego was a bit taken aback at your tone of voice. It had been posed as a question but, the look in your eye was unbridled, somber clarity.

"I survived because of her," he admitted, bowing his head as that very insecurity Grace had chased away threatened to return. His gloved hands catch a wandering leaf, and mindlessly he begins to fiddle with the stem, watching it as he twirls it between his fingers. "You know, I used to have a horrible stutter?"

He chuckled half-heartedly at your softened shock.

"Yeah, I uh," Just picture the word in your mind. "I struggled a lot when I was a kid. 'Specially around my dad. I'd get so knotted up, and every time he'd hear me speak..." he shook his head and sighed, dropping the leaf and watching as it wafted down to the streets below, riding the breeze. "I don't know, it was like he'd secretly get a kick out of it or something. Like it was proof I wasn't good enough."

A wistful smile came to his lips, and it was odd. Odd the way it warmed something in your chest, waking something up-something new.

"Mom was a whole different story. She always believed in me. She saw the potential in me, I mean. She still does, sees it in all of us." That breath-that warmth caught in your throat when his gentle eyes caught yours. Your heart was aching, for more reasons than you could name. All you could bring yourself to do was tether yourself to Diego's next words. "The thing about Grace? She may have been made by him... but she isn't him. I know what you heard back there, and... I'll admit, I can't explain it. But I know that it isn't her."

Realistically, part of you knew this. Part of you knew-part of you trusted by now, Diego would never have put you in such a situation if he knew she truly believed this. But that part of you was still so small, it was barely a concept. Your trust had been shattered long before it could fully be built, and whatever this was with Diego... all you knew was that you wanted to hold it tight.

But trust is tricky. And it goes both ways.

"She protected you,"

His throat tightened at your understanding. "She did,"

"Mine did," your voice was tiny but coarse. The rock lodged in your throat was getting bigger just from acknowledging its existence. Cause you knew what caused it, and it made you feel so damn guilty.

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to swim back down into the murky depths of your memories. Like fighting to make it to the bottom of the deep end of the pool. The deeper you dive the harder you fight not to float right back to the top. Just as you had done so for decades. But your hope was dying out as fast and sure as the memories you chased.

All but the feelings of loss, anger, and fear were lost to time. Including your mother. Though one thing could never be forgotten.

"She is gone," you said. Though the rock in your throat demanded attention and threatened tears, none came. "She died."

All emotion was absent from your voice and your stare. But your grip on the world was another story. Diego's attention was pulled around the roof when he felt the shift. That feeling in his gut was steadily spreading throughout all of his body like the others kind of drug. It felt like his blood was thickening, which only made his increasing heart rate all the more frigid. But nothing compared to feeling your next words brought.

"The Monocle killed her."

Nothing was stopping Diego from believing the sensation sinking him into the ground was of no fault of his own. A manifestation of his guilt. His father-his fucking father. All his life, he had known him to be an abusive, manipulative piece of shit. Who, as of yesterday, was a kidnapper and now a goddamn murder to top it all off. What else was he hiding?!

For a moment, Diego considered letting whatever happened with your powers, happen. If he fell through the roof, he fell through the roof. If he plummeted up into the sky, he plummeted up into the sky-Luther would sure get a good laugh at the odd picture. As long as it meant he didn't open his big mouth and risk taking his anger out on you. It's precisely why he's so surprised when he finds the courage to speak, his voice is somehow coaxing.

"Y/n?"

You tore your eyes away from the twinkling metropolis at the sound of his voice, and little by little your grip retracted. Embarrassed to say he had startled you from your thoughts, but something you couldn't quite name had put you at ease. Maybe it was the way he broke you from your little spill. The way he didn't hold it against you.

"Sorry," you mutter, your arms folding back in over your torso out of habit. It hurt him a little to see. Perhaps it reminded him so much of himself.

"Hey, you don't have to be sorry for that stuff, you know,"

You didn't move a muscle, not so much as a tilt of the head from where it sat. A grating voice rooted into your subconscious was making that hard to believe.

"I don't care whatever he told you," said Diego, plucking the thoughts straight from your head. "I don't believe it."

"You don't know,"

The pause in the air is volumes louder than the words he speaks next. You were right, Diego didn't know what his father said to you. But that didn't change his mind either.

"Yeah, well... Knowing my father, I have a few ideas," Diego has to remind himself where he is, and when he does he feels the reluctant release in his clenched fists.

He feels an inquisitive hole burning itself into the side of his head until he turns to face you. The word he'd use to describe your expression was dumbstruck. Like you weren't quite convinced with whatever you so desperately wanted to believe.

"Not scared? At all?"

For your sake, Diego buries the returning anger for his father. Instead, he shook his head at you and spoke truthfully. "Not even a little,"

It was happening again. The muscles in your cheeks were twitching without your consent before they pulled your lips back in a smile. It felt so strange to smile-it felt so strange to be happy, and giddy. You hardly ever had a reason to be. Anything you thought was happiness in your life with G.R.E.G.O.R.Y and the things he showed you on his screen were instantly proved wrong the moment Diego first showed you the sky. The moment you felt the winds and the sun.

This was bubbly and new. It left a fuzzy feeling in your chest that tickled your lungs until you chuckled, and the muscles in your cheeks hurt. So many foreign feelings were swirling together in coexistence in your chest, but you welcomed the change. Your hands fiddled happily in your lap as Diego matched his grin with yours.

Like you, it was the first time you had truly seen him at ease since the two of you had met.

"I'm serious," you can hear the grin in his voice. "I think it's pretty cool, actually,"

That word caught your ear, and you offered a curious tilt of the head. "It makes you cold?"

He chuckled again, beaming out at the skyline as he licked nervously at his lips. When he looked back at you, you resisted the urge to squirm under his gaze.

"No," he corrected. "Sorry, no. It's just a saying. Like, uh," Your attention on him tempts the stutter in his brain. "To be in awe of something would be, so to speak, awe-some. If something's cool, you think it's great, excellent, whatever... I find it admirable,"

The grin on your face was nearing blinding, but still, you shook your head in disbelief at it all. Two nights ago you were sure you were sooner to die trying to escape your prison than escape. Now you are sitting on the roof, admiring the stars as the son of your captor-Diego, the first person you ever brought yourself to trust-praised your power-your special.

"'Cool'," you repeated, getting a feel for the word on your tongue. Diego hummed in delight.

"Bad-ass," he winked.

His response was shocking enough to elicit an authentic laugh from deep within your belly. You hardly made an effort to hide your grin behind your hand as you gawked at him with aching cheeks. "'Bad ass'!?" You chortled. Surely, that had to be an insult.

Diego's dark brown eyes lit up in amusement at your reaction, no more than the flare of satisfaction in his chest as he laughed with you. "Oh yeah, definitely bad-ass,"

"Is bad-ass... good?"

"The best," he assured, loving the sting in his cheeks. Without even thinking of how you might react, he nudged you playfully with his shoulder but the undisturbed gleam in your eye told him he was fine. "I mean," he puffed his chest out just a little farther and looked out stoically at the horizon, trying to look as goofily-chauvinistic as possible. "I would know this, of course. Being so bad-ass myself," He only broke the facade to gauge your reaction, pleased to see the unimpressed, albeit slightly amused curl of your lip. The dreaded silence in the air was broken by quiet and content chuckles that fizzled out with the slow of traffic down below.

With a sigh of content, your attention returned to the very reason you were here: your neck craned up at the darkening blanket draping over the city as your eyes scoured it for stars. It wasn't long before little white specks crept into view as the sapphire deepened into black, enunciating the endless reach of space. This sight-this moment-was molten bliss. It was searing and heavy, and so overwhelming it made you tired. But you didn't ever want it to end.

Giving in to your body's desires and never taking your sights off the stars, you allowed yourself to lay back on the roof, arms outstretched at your sides and expecting the familiar pain digging into your spine. But you forgot about the carpet of ivy-it was pleasantly soft in its many layers. Funny, came a thought far back in your mind. Funny that a concrete roof was far more comfortable than your room ever was. The same pair of eyes to have been stealing glances at you all day were watching you now-not bothering to hide the gleam that came with you so at peace.

"So," he said, sparing a glimpse at the very stars to have enraptured you. "What'ya think?"

Diego watched as your chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh that expelled the first of so many doubts. A lazy, almost sleepy smile fell upon your lips. "Bad-ass,"

He was too busy chuckling into his lap to see the satisfied grin flash across your face before you returned to the stars.

They were beautiful. They were bright. They were endless. Nothing was holding them back. And standing out amongst them all, vibrant, alluring, and free was one of the very few things you remembered from the outside. One of the very few things that looked exactly as you last left it; You were sure the moon was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life.

"Diego?" it was getting just a bit harder for him to ignore the occasional murmur in his pulse when you said his name. This time, your voice was soft and skeptical. This is exactly why he made certain to match your gentle tone as he turned to look at you.

"Yeah?"

For a beat, you didn't speak. Your bottom lip quivered, willing itself to say the words that felt so wrong to say. Words that, until now, you never had a reason to say.

"Thank you,"

And you knew in your heart you were right to trust your instincts the moment he shook his head with a somber smile. "Don't thank me," he says. He's surprised to hear the words from his mouth almost as much as you are. But it just didn't feel right. Not when his father was responsible. Not when you were right under his nose your entire lives, and he could have helped. He could have stood up to his father, he could have snuck you out somehow. The thought almost felt as familiar as you, the moment he first laid eyes on you through that little window. "Not me,"

It was Diego's turn to try and decipher the look hidden in your eyes-disappointment? contemplation?-when you forced your attention away from him and back on the stars. Your hands fells to the end of your sleeves, fiddling with a frayed thread and allowing yourself to get lost in the view. Guilt zapped at his heart and he felt himself growing defensive and embarrassed.

He only wanted you to have what you deserved. You had a right to see the goddamn sky if you wanted and it made him angry you were in a position where you felt as if you had to thank him for doing so. But he didn't know how to say this. Diego couldn't see that the reason he had a hard time with being honest with anyone, including himself, was for the same reason you had a hard time trusting: His father.

"I only m-mean," he stopped to clear his throat, cringing at the heat crawling up his neck at his stutter. "I only mean I don't think I'm very worthy of thanks. Not when my dad did what he did to you."

The silence you left him in knew just what to say, as it always did. His gut sunk lower than he previously thought possible, but it had jumped the gun.

"Not true," you finally said, voice quiet yet assertive.

He looked over his shoulder to find you sitting up again, your shoulders brushing together and leaving a subtle blush in its wake.

"No, I could have helped you."

"Did you know?"

His head sinks, all the more disappointed in himself. "No. No, I didn't. But that's exactly why I'm mad at myself," he pleads. He doesn't know why he's trying so hard to convince you to hate him. The truth is, the more he gets to know you, the less he wants to leave your side. But maybe that's his answer.

His passion painted a small heat on your cheeks and a grateful twitch at the corner of your lips. "That is why I am not."

"...You're not mad at me?"

You shake your head, putting all his worries to rest, unaware his presence does the same. At that moment, it's just you two on earth. A frightening thought for you, but for the first time in your life you can remember, you liked the company you had. Just you and Diego, what felt to be quite literally on top of the world. Where the stars shine the brightest.

So many of those new feelings were swirling together in your chest like never before. Freedom from the wind and the view, the chill from the night air that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and the oddly addicting flurry that stirred in your stomach just ever so when Diego's eyes flicked over your lips.

A sudden and familiar crackle from Diego's belt startled you two apart from the small gap you hadn't even been aware had been closing. His eyes blew open wide as his hands jumped to his belt and you were pretty sure you caught a 'Seriously? Right now?' under his breath. You had no way to know your gut wasn't the only one sinking when he threw you an apology and pulled out that noisy little radio of his.

"We have a 10-14 at Gimbel Brothers department store. Shots fired. Repeat, shots fired. 6045 Vanderbilt."

And just like that, everything was over. He was gonna leave you again, coming back who knows when? Ypu turned your head, not wanting him to see the angry tears threatening to build in your eyes. The thought of him leaving again, now of all times left a sour taste on your tongue-you were mortified for giving placing so much faith in Diego, only for him to turn around and leave again.

"Work?" You asked, unable to stop the bitter accusation in your tone.

"Yeah. It is," he said, something you couldn't identify in his whisper. Not taking his eyes off of you and your crossed arms, he turned off the radio and returned it to its spot on his belt without a thought. "But it can wait." Your head whipped back to face him.

Diego knew he had made the right choice the moment he felt the pull grow tighter in his gut-he felt like the grass from earlier, having no choice as he was carried out to you. But he was happy. Your smile alone lit up the roof and cast away any shadow of a doubt he was meant to leave.

And Diego knew he made the right choice when that trust he placed in you was given right back to him, placed on his shoulder with your head. He warmed at the feeling of your temple laid so delicately to rest on his broadened shoulder, but he didn't dare move a muscle. As if you might break. As if you might move. So badly he wanted to tuck his chin over your temple, wrap his arm around your shoulder but this was new enough for you.

This was new enough for him. Intimacy-vulnerability-quite like this.

Instead, he settled his cheek on your head with such care-a care you had yet know. But he had already hurt you once before. And once was too many. Diego couldn't name when he decided this, but he knew as surely as the earth orbited the sun, he had always meant to know you. And you him. And whatever journey lay before you both, he could only hope the end was nowhere in sight.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

As she sat in quiet contemplation, reflecting on recovered childhood moments long forgotten, Allison couldn't stop her mind from wandering. The mysteries her father harbored all her life continued to unravel around her and her siblings since his death. On top of it all, Pogo's increasingly suspicious behavior was like a loose thread Allison couldn't stop picking at.

He had found her in the attic-her old hiding spot-staring up at the moon as she sat tucked away in the window sill. While in retrospect, she was grateful he had found her and brought her here, she couldn't quite bring herself to shake the questionable aura surrounding him, nor the conversation she had attempted to pry from him surrounding her suspicions.

"How'd you do it?" she questions carefully. "Alone in this huge house for so long,"

Her eyes couldn't tear themselves away from the wall of buzzing monitors. Each picture of her childhood home was painted in noise from the VCR, obscuring the details of every nook and cranny on display in waves of fuzz.

Including the hall leading to the elevator shaft.

Allison is sure to take note of the twitch in his ears, though it brings her no joy to do so. Nor does the feeling that accompanies his sudden interest in the floor where he readjusts his cane one too many times. "I mean, that's bound to take a toll on anyone." she reiterates.

The lift in question was obscured-it was just around the corner. But that's not what bothered Allison.

"Well," he answers carefully, his voice hard and level as his eyes meet hers in what she has to convince herself isn't a warning look.

What bothered Allison was the sight of her father emerging from around this very corner, with a familiar old primate in tow.

"One grows used to things, even if, sometimes..." was Allison seeing things, or were his eyes narrowing? "one shouldn't."

There wasn't a word to describe what Allison was feeling. More accurately, there weren't enough. She knew something had been off the moment they had reunited with Pogo-he was just too eager. But she didn't want to believe it. He had been far more of a father figure than her own father for as long as she could remember. Perhaps that's why she had such a hard time leaning in to such accusations.

The chair's wheels squeaked beneath her as she leaned in for a closer look-something about her father in this image piqued her interest. She fiddled with the dials long enough for it to show her the rest of the tapes from this day. And for the second time, her suspicions were confirmed.

Allison had watched as he had retreated from the elevator shaft-from whatever nefarious studies he did on you in secret-and made his way down to dinner like any other night. Realization hits her hard, and she collapses into her chair, eyes never leaving the screens.

This was the evening. This was the meal.

This was the last time the family had seen Five before he disappeared.

Her finger smashed the eject button without thought. Allison didn't need to see it a second time. She found her head planted in her hands, her fingers rubbing at her temples in indignation as it all washed over her.

Of course that's where he'd gone. Of course the answer to the question Allison and her siblings had asked all these years 'where does Dad always disappear to?' was something as vile as this.

She felt stupid for not seeing it sooner, and yet that feeling in itself felt foolish. There was no way to know. More than anything her heart ached. For you, for anyone who might be looking for you. She knows she'd do anything to get Claire back if something happened to her-anything.

With a hefty sigh, Allison pulls herself back up to the wall of monitors. Maybe, she thought, though she wasn't thrilled with the idea, more answers lay in the question. Maybe she would find more clues in the tapes. She casts a glance over her shoulder at the cabinet, nearly going for a random selection as pointed out by Pogo. And yet something pulls her attention to the right.

Hanging off one of the many tape decks sat a single VHS box, just waiting for her to open. Promiscuous enough, unlike every other selection, the white label had been hastily torn off. Allison takes it in hand, inspecting the weight with burning curiosity.

Surely, whatever was on here couldn't be that interesting.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The sight of Luther's empty bed was nearly within his reach, seducing his exhaustion-riddled body with the temptations of rest when Allison finally caught up to him.

"There you are," she let out a breath of relief as she hurried to meet him halfway down the hall. "I've been looking everywhere for you,"

"What are you still doing here?" He frowned, genuinely surprised to see her after hours. What about Claire, he wondered. "I thought you were gone,"

She shook her head. "No, I was gonna go, and then Pogo showed me this--"

"Well, listen..." He sighed, cutting her off much to her annoyance. "I was wrong about Dad's death,"

"What?"

"Yeah, I was wrong about Diego. And Y/n. You know, you were right. I mean, not only to turn what Dad did to her into an interrogation and accuse her so brazenly but to do the same with my own brother? That is just--"

"--No, I- I know, I get what you're--"

"--Seeing all of you and being back here on top of everything... I should be the one who's trying to bring us back together, not tear us apart."

"Would you shut up?"

That got his attention. "What?"

"You were right," she admitted. Her voice was as hard as the rock in her stomach from the evidence she had unwillingly stumbled upon. "...about Dad."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The floors wailed with every hurried footstep the siblings took as Allison directed Luther to the surveillance room, though it took them both a solid moment to realize this made no sense considering the marble they walked on. All at once, their pace slowed and their eyes fell towards the figure sauntering up the wooden staircase behind them, an inconspicuous duffle bag slung over his shoulder. The despair in Five's features was displayed without doubt, and the physical aftermath of his little last-minute siege at Gimble Brothers was not lost on his brother and sister.

"Five," Allison came to a standstill in shock. "What the hell happened to you?"

The minimal traces of sweat and blood on the boy's brow were less worrisome to Luther than the haunted look in his steely eyes. In passing glances Luther had caught traces of that thousand-yard stare since Five's return, but nothing like this. It was just concerning enough, he couldn't bring himself to care when he picked up the sound of wandering footsteps on the first floor. All his attention was on his brother and the undeniable need to help.

"Are you okay?" He asks, lending out a gloved hand for comfort. "Can we help--?"

The boy's grip on his wrist was iron, but nothing compared to the grip on Five's heart. Despite the regret attached to the advancing deja vu at his lighting reflexes, Five's grasp tightened-his fingers dug harder and harder through the material peacoat sleeve, putting Luther further on edge. If he hadn't known better, he'd say Five was almost scared to let him go.

The truth was, the smell of rotting flesh and soiled runoff were somehow stronger than the sight waiting for him that day in the not-so-distant future. Which was saying something considering the gruesome image was burned into the back of his eyelids. Hell, he could hardly look anyone in the eye since his return. This was the first time he truly did so-his voice trembling in a manner no one who knew Five Hargreeves to be possible.

"There's nothing... you can do," that thousand-yard stare pierces Luther. It goes straight through him like he's seeing a ghost. And then, unexpectedly, it falls away. All the way down and over the balcony to a fourth figure, silently making its way into the living room on Diego's arm with a grin on her face. "There's nothing any of you can do,"

It was uncanny the resemblance you bore to the Y/n he found that day. Two arms coiled around your torso as you wandered aimlessly and harmlessly through unknown terrain, searching for any signs of life. Completely unaware of his presence. How you didn't hear or see them on the second floor, Five didn't know. But it was no different from how he found you on that sordid day.

What remained of the world Five once knew were getting harder and harder to distinguish. The sky had been devoured by curtains of ash and blankets of sewage flew past his shins in makeshift streams created by the debris. His footsteps were loud and slow, treading his way through to higher ground where the spring of blood, mud, and ocean water had thinned to massive puddles.

There is where he first saw it. There is where he first saw him. A single hand rising front the mountain of rubble. Its abnormally thick peacoat-covered forearm was stained pink from the runoff, and gripped tight in its fingerless gloved hand was a small white orb. He stumbled closer without thought to get a closer look, kneeling beside the carnage to discover the unexpected.

"Don't ask me,"

The knot in his stomach coiled tighter and tighter as he took the wrist in his grasp in an attempt to pry the eye free. He inwardly cringed at the sound of the popping of stiff joints as he pried the fingers apart. Clearly whoever now possessed it had ripped it straight from the original owner's head. It was an eye-a prosthetic by the looks of it. The thin coat of blood and slime told Five it was still fresh.

"What you know is true,"

To this day, Five couldn't name what compelled him to check the body. Whatever it was, he knew even then it was something far more simple than curiosity. And everything to do with intuition. The moment he laid eyes on the blonde, a hole the size of a crater had been punched through his chest. The features weren't hard to make out, even though the bloated after-effects of the end of the world and the fifteen-something years of aging. The sharp chin and prominent brow of his brother Luther were unmistakable.

Five reluctantly brought himself to his feet on wobbling knees, fighting tooth and nail to keep the non-existent contents of his empty stomach from causing too much trouble. The fight within himself as he laid his eyes upon the scene just around the bend was even harder.

Nobody had to tell him the bodies he had found were that of siblings.

"Don't have to tell you"

Nobody had to tell him that in the blink of an eye, Five had lost everything.

Five had to really be looking to spot them under all the wreckage and trickling streams. Naturally, he saw them right away.

His sister Allison lay first at his feet; her face, not unlike Luther's, still wore traces of a frown even in such sleep. Her head was visible, barely surfacing from the mountain of rubble, just enough to identify. The water washed over her in gentle strokes, carefully washing away the rubble and ash to have been pooling in the crooks of her eyes.

Not far behind her, sprawled stomach first into the ruins of concrete was Klaus. His mouth hung open even after his dying breath, and his eyes had yet to flutter closed. They were as sad and far away as they had been in early youth-when he wasn't hiding behind a mask of some sort. Before Five could stop the thought he found his heart weeping at the thought Klaus looked more like his true self in death than he ever had in life. He just wished, now more than ever, he had been around longer to be proven wrong.

"I love your precious heart"

Diego. Five had nearly missed him. Had he not tripped over a chunk of concrete hidden in the murky water and fallen on his ass right in front of his dead brother, he would have missed him. Maybe it was this very thing-this sudden action that kicked him into gear and told him all this was real to a point where the lump in his throat finally gave. Tears sprang loose from his eyes as he took in the sight of his brother, stomach first, left arm sprawled out ahead of him as of reaching out for Five in his dying moments. As if he knew the brother to have disappeared from his life would return to him in death.

"I,"

What pathetic excuse for a bargaining thought was squandered when Five's eyes fell upon Diego's inner wrist. Any hopeful doubt seeding itself in Five's mind that these people he has stumbled upon were not his family was violently uprooted. He felt fucking foolish for even acknowledging such a thought, but here he was. Just a boy, lost and alone at the end of the world-just a boy, eyes drilling into the inked insignia of a black umbrella tattoo on Diego's inner wrist confirming his worst fears.

"I was standing"

Any attempt at pulling himself out of such an intense state of grief left him little options. Now all he could focus on was the blood staining his body and dripping into his stocking as he put all his energy into standing upright. One by one his senses returned to him-the smell threatened another lurch in his gut, the sun could be felt beating down and making him sweat, even through so many layers of ash in the sky. And slowly, and ever so surely, the white noise created by the blood storming in his ears fell away to reveal to Five a most unexpected and wonderful thing.

"HELLO?!" The voice cried. It wasn't a call that expected an answer, rather a desperate wish-a demand from the universe.

His body didn't act right away when he told it to move. But when it finally did, he ignored the water splashing up on his ankles as he stumbled around the nearest heap.

"You were there"

You were there. Pulling yourself up from a rubble mountain two stories high, blood caked over your wobbling head where dried streaks fell into your lidded eyes. One hand hung loosely around your torso where you gripped your bleeding side, the other doing all in its power to anchor you to the wall in an upright position.

"Two worlds collided"

You were on the brink of death by the looks of it-if Five had to guess, you had just pulled yourself from the depths of hell given the firey wreck behind you. There was so much fear in your e/c eyes, shining out so bright he could see it from here. Just as surely as you could sense his. But that was just it.

He could see it clicking in your brain; whatever trauma-induced fog cast over your mind was trying to lift away at the sight-the realization he too was coming upon.

Yes, the two of you had somehow found yourself at the end of the world. But no longer were either of you alone.

"And they could never tear us apart"

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

a.n: to paraphrase the amazing Billy Boyd who gave my best friend a mint at comic con, "I've been sittin' on tha' fer three~ years! Enjoy it!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

I REMIND YOU TO BE CAUTIOUS OF ALL RESOURCES YOU FIND REGARDING AIDING THE UKRAINE--IF YOU SUSPECT ME OR ANYONE YOU KNOW HAS OVERLOOKED SOMETHING THEY ARE SPREADING, MAKE IT KNOWN!

Documenting During Internet Shutdowns: A Full Blog Series

'Through our work with activists who have experienced internet shutdowns, we have learned some useful tips and approaches to capturing and preserving video documentation during internet shutdowns that we are sharing in this series.'

[link in comments]

'17 Black-Led LGBTQ+ Services and Groups You Can Support Right Now' article by Bianca Rodriguez

[link in comments]

The Trevor Project:

'And so do the people you care about. Here you can reach out to a counselor if you're struggling, find answers and information, and get the tools you need to help someone else.'

[link in comments]