☂︎ 𝔱𝔰𝔲 | ❛ ʙᴇꜱᴛ. ꜰᴜɴᴇʀᴀʟ. ᴇᴠᴇʀ. ❜

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❛❛𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄? The exact date."

Vanya, Allison, Klaus, Diego, and Luther are piled together at the end of the kitchen table, watching still numb with shock as Five paces the kitchen. He had barely spoken two words since his sudden return and his siblings watch in stunned silence as he begins to prepare himself a sandwich.

"The 24th," Vanya mumbles, finally finding her voice again.

"Of what?" He asks, growing impatient.

"March,"

A rumble shakes the house, the first since Vanya's fight with Luther, and yet no one seemed to notice. It was as if with Five's mysterious return, all had returned to normal over the house with him.

A thoughtful look flickers across Five's face for a moment as he chews on Vanya's answer, and the tremors on the house steadily come to a stop. He pulls out two slices of white bread lays them across the board, his face calculating.

"Those still going on, huh?" He mutters, sounding disinterested.

His siblings give him a flat look before Luther snaps like a rubber band, unable to go without addressing the elephant in the room.

"So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?"

Five didn't answer, he only continued to attend to his fluffernutter sandwich. The only indication he had heard Luther's words was the grimace that had ironed onto his face at the mention. It was such a subtle shift in demeanor but a shift nonetheless. But Luther was having none of it. He jumped to his feet with a glower of his own.

"It's been seventeen years."

Five has no trouble meeting the man's eye, and he lets out a pitiful scoff. "It's been a lot longer than that." He rebukes, taking a step last Luther only to disappear with a muffled whoosh as he reappeared on the stool.

"I haven't missed that," Luther grumbled.

Diego drags his gaze up from the floor to his brother who searches the shelves for the marshmallows. "Where'd you go?"

"The future," answers Five, blinking back to the cutting board at the table. "It's shit by the way,"

"Called it," Klaus blurted, looking around sheepishly for an appraisal from his siblings but finds none.

"I should have listened to the old man," Five admits, strolling through another tremor with ease as if nothing had happened, his siblings gripping the table. He yanks open the fridge and retrieves the peanut butter before returning. "You know, jumping through space is one thing but jumping through time is a toss of the dice."

He places the knife and peanut butter on the table just as the shaking stops, his eyes trailing up to his brother who sits cross-legged at the opposing end of the table. Five's brows furrow for a moment, for the first time really processing how his siblings have changed and who they've grown into as adults. And he can't say he's at all surprised.

"Nice dress," he Five says sincerely, casually returning to his sandwich and bringing a smile to Klaus's face.

"Ah, well," He bunches up a few of the tassels in his hands and gives them a flattering twirl. "dänke!"

Still much too flabbergasted with the situation, Vanya can't help but blurt out, "Wait, how did you get back?"

"In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time." He answers simply.

Anything anyone can do is blink, trying to keep up with his logic. Finally, Diego speaks.

"That makes no sense."

Without looking up from his sandwich, Five retorts, "Well, it would if you were smarter."

Diego launches himself up from his seat, but Luther was already there to stop him with his arm thrown out. "How long were you there?" Luther asks.

"Forty-five years," Five says, biting the bullet. "Give or take."

The truth is heavy enough to pull Diego and Luther back into the seats where they sat gaping at Five, like the rest of the academy. Five knew this would happen. He might not have seen his siblings in several decades but he still knew them well enough they'd have a hard time with the truth. Hell, he did, but maybe he was just used to it.

"So what are you saying?" Luther asked. "That you're fifty-eight?"

"No," Five remarks, sending his brother a bitter smirk. "my consciousness is fifty-eight."

He stacks the second slice of bread onto the pile of marshmallows and peanut butter, completely his lunch as he stalked off a few paces.

"Apparently, my body is now thirteen again,"

"Wait," said Allison, beating her sister to the punch. "how does that even work?"

"Delores kept saying the equations were off," Face shielded from the vulnerability of family, Five smiles fondly at the memory of his love and shrugs, silently conceding this victory to her. "Hm,"

He turns to his family, stalking back over with a mouthful of his sandwich. "Bet she's laughing now,"

Against his permission, Five's heart falls at the returning feeling of loss. A feeling he had become all too familiar with in his long life. He had always told himself he'd find a way back, no matter how long it took, and now that he finally had... The one who had helped him through such a dark time wasn't there with him.

"Delores?" His sister asked.

The sound of Vanya's voice snapped him back to reality and he swallowed the feelings of grief that had steadily been creeping up since his return. That and his bite of fluffernutter.

"Hmm," he hummed, doing his best to remove the peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth as he picked up the newspaper on the table.

Their father's mortality was something all of them had a hard time believing, and yet the sight of an urn in the corner and the headline in black in white: CITY SAYS GOODBYE TO REGINALD HARGREEVES didn't seem to make it any more real. And yet, Five shrugged, chucking the article and the printed face of his father's scowl back on the table with little interest.

"Guess I missed the funeral."

Another impressive tremor began, starting slow and growing stronger as it steadily took over the house. All seven siblings that stood in the kitchen now didn't seem too bothered, but unease still lingered deep in their bones. Luther gulped, sparing a moment for his eyes to dart around the room before talking through the tremors.

"How'd you know about that?" He asked, eyes flickering to the newspaper of their father.

Five sent Luther a funny look. "What part of the future do you not understand?"

The tremors continued, not enough to cause any damage as always but enough to unsettle those afflicted.

Five's eyes flicker to the ceiling and walls in thought, silently counting the seconds and assessing the anomaly before returning his gaze to Luther. His voice is loud enough it can be heard over the rumble that still goes strong.

"Heart failure, huh?" He asks, just as a quiet finally falls back over the room.

-"Yeah,"

-"No,"

Luther and Diego's hardened eyes snap to one another in a momentary glare, and the others fight an eye roll.

A flat look befalls Five's face, his jaw twitching to the side; a telltale sign of his agitation. His eyes fall to his right shoulder where a bit of thin white powder had been shaken loose from the ceiling.

"Nice to see nothing's changed," he remarks, stalking off exasperated.

"Uh," Allison scoffs, turning to call after her brother. "that's it? That's all you have to say?"

"What else is there to say?" Comes his voice, retreating into the stairwell. "The circle of life."

And just as he had left that evening all those years ago, Number Five disappeared leaving his siblings where they sat at the table in a daze.

"Well," Luther looks across the table at a gaping Vanya who tries to pull an expression out of their shell-shocked siblings. "that was interesting."

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Vanya crosses the living room to where her brother stands, now dressed in what she assumed was the only clothes of his that must still fit him, standing before he portrait above the hearth. As she approaches, she scours her mind of all the things she had pictured herself saying to him had he ever returned, trying to find the right thing to say. Anything. But she should have figured he'd beat her to the punch; he tore himself away from the portrait upon her arrival and turned to her with a bittersweet smile.

"Nice to know Dad didn't forget about me," he quips, a fond look flickering over his face. "Read your book, by the way. Found it in a library that was still standing."

The look drops away, buried and forgotten before he wanders across the living space. The earth beneath their feet shakes again, forcing his brows to stitch together in thought only momentarily. "Thought it was pretty good, all things considered."

Vanya watches him, surprised, to say the least as he lets out a broken chuckle she barely caught as he turned back to her. "Yeah, definitely ballsy giving up the family secrets."

The world returns to a standstill.

"They hate me," Vanya says dryly, head dropping to the floor to give the carpet a bitter look. She trucks her hands in her pockets, subconsciously hiding her fiddling fingers. "But what else is new?"

"Oh, there are worse things that can happen," he assures her, glazed eyes meeting hers.

"You mean what happened to Ben?" She asked, unable to contain the subject any longer.

It felt like holding a ticking time bomb, not knowing when or how he was going to throw her a dirty remark her way. It felt like a matter of time before he blamed her as everyone else did... As she did.

Five seems to take a minute to chew on her words, finally digesting them. The look in her eyes told him everything he already assumed after reading her book; guilt had destroyed her. She was different than she had been when they were kids. Quiet. Calculating. As if she was overanalyzing every step she took less the entire world come crashing down. Vanya had built a life around regret, and Five couldn't be more surprised.

He loosley shrugs his shoulders, sending her a weak smile. "'Κανένας άνδρας ή γυναίκα γεννημένη, δειλή ή γενναία, δεν μπορεί να ξεφύγει από το πεπρωμένο του.'"

Vanya stands rigid for several moments before a disbelieving and broken scoff breaks her icy and guarded exterior. She nods, blinking back tears at the passage that had been drilled into her and her siblings since such a young age.

"No man or woman born, coward or-"

"-coward or brave, can shun his destiny." She finished, chewing her lip anxiously.

His eyes remained locked on his sister, his friend. Pain settles over his heart at the thought he hadn't been there to talk her out of all this self-destructive, self-pity she was torturing herself with. Or better yet, had been there to help. And yet, all he can do is sigh.

"If there's one cruel and," he shakes his head miserably and sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. "sickeningly ironic lesson time travel taught me, it's that the inevitable is inevitable for a reason. You can tamper and tinker - you can slip your finger on the scale but what's meant to pass will always find a way, and..." he shakes his head, his eyes now lightyears away in another memory where fear and a faded anguish burns bright behind his irises.

"Five?"

He pulls himself from his thoughts, and she can see clearly that he is already returning the memory. He takes a deep breath, plastering on a reassuring look.

"We all have a legacy we leave," he says finally, his chest swelling with a newfound determination. It seemed to Vanya that he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was her. "Each and every one of us, whether we like it or not. Big or small." he shrugs again. "But it is up to us what that means. We decide what that is. What our legacy is."

She studies her brother's face, finding not even a hint of regret - no absence of trust like she saw in her siblings when they looked at her.

"You might not be able to change what happened to Ben, your fault or not, but you do control how you live your life. You are deserving of one, after all. Even after what happened. Ben would think so too."

Vanya rapidly blinks back tears, the lump in her throat so swollen she is unable to speak. Another rumble fills the silence for her and for once she's thankful for it. But she does manage to nod, hoping if she thought the words hard enough by some chance he'd hear them; Thank you.

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BEN HARGREEVES
ᴍᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ

The statue of Ben Hargreeves stands firm and tall as the day it was commissioned. Ben's stoic face looks out onto the very courtyard where his family had first said their goodbyes. All of his brothers and sisters, at one point or another, shared the same thought; the face was wrong. He was hardly stoic, even when he tried to be. Despite his unusually grotesque abilities, and even the alias name gifted to him by the public, Ben was far from intimidating.

He was deeply kind and surprisingly loud. He had a temper but it wasn't the kind to fear; fighting with him was never dangerous cause despite years of combat training and his powerful abilities, he never used them cause he knew he stood a chance. He could easily disarm anybody with just his words and he had a wicked sense of humor. And above all, he was fiercely loyal.

It was a bitter thought, but then again their father was a bitter man; they each knew this goodbye would hurt far less.

Grace Hargreeves pools out into the courtyard with her seven children. All of them collect under the graying sky as it cried down upon them, the very earth seems to shake with sobs. And yet the children he had raised - the family he had left behind stood stone-faced and reserved as they gathered in his honor.

Grace looked around at all the downcast faces, her instincts telling her to make it better. She looked as if she had just been pulled from a very hazy daydream, yet still what focus she could muster she trained on her loved ones.

"Did something happen?" She asks, her voice as sweet as honey, yet still, she draws concern from everyone around her.

"Dad died," Allison said gently, her face written with confusion. Her mother had been acting strange, Allison noticed, ever since she had made the flight in. "remember?"

"Oh, yes," Grace blinks several times as the grief comes crashing down over her all over again. She tightens her grip on her umbrella as she nods at Allison in agreement. "of course."

"Is mom okay?" Allison asks, looking to Diego who stands next to their mother without an umbrella.

"Yeah," The man nods, reflecting on the changes in his mother he had been noticing as of late. Despite his early departure - only the second to leave, he had always made time in his life for the woman who had saved his. "Yeah, she's fine. She just needs to rest. You know, recharge."

He gives his mother another gentle and sympathetic glance before resting his eyes back on Allison. He holds himself with certainty and yet even he was beginning to wonder if what he said was true.

They each hear the familiar and rhythmic tapping of a cane, announcing Pogo's arrival in the courtyard as he comes to stand between Vanya and Luther. He sends a forgiving look up to a sopping wet Luther, who stood quietly frowning at the urn in his hands.

"Whenever you're ready, my dear boy," he says to him.

Luther stiffly nods before inching himself forward only a few steps. He removes the lid, the sound of iron scraping against iron stood out from the pitter-patter of the rain after the steady rumble that had melted away moments ago. He takes a deep breath, a montage of moments with just himself and his father out in this very courtyard flashing through his mind as tips out the urn and something happens to Luther; he realized in all his life of nearly thirty years as Number One, the relationship he thought he had had with his father - the one filled with moments put in the courtyard or one on one pep-talks before missions, all of it - it wasn't even long enough to fill the seconds of his father's ashes falling to the earth in a single pathetic splat.

Clumps of his ashes had fallen straight to the ground, and because of the rain weighing down the humidity in the air, there was little left to linger in the air which they were somewhat grateful for. It was rather anticlimactic, several of them thought and felt more like watching someone throw out expired hot cocoa mix than ashes being spread. And with everyone still so surprised as to why there was so little of him, no one seemed to catch the wince that flickered across Klaus's face.

Just as stricken as his siblings, Luther gives a half glance into the urn despite knowing it was empty.

Luther clears his throat, unable to wipe the awkward look from his features as he addressed his family. "Probably would have been better with some wind," he grunts.

He catches Allison subtly wincing to herself from under her umbrella when Pogo jumps in to try and salvage the moment.

"Does anyone wish to speak?"

Diego perfects the loudest inaudible scoff, his eyes darting around the circle to find a collection of not so mixed faces. Oh, there was plenty he had to say about that man, Diego thought. Plenty he wanted to say to that beast who had the nerve to -

Allison and Grace teetered on their high heels beside him as another tremor hit, Allison accidentally bumping into and latching onto his extended arm that waited for her. She sent him a grateful look, concern embedded within her eyes as she released his arm and collected herself. Aside from Pogo and Grace who don't appear to notice the phenomenon anymore, everyone met each other's eyes matching each other's concern. Simultaneously the same thought seems to play out in their minds, answering the question they all had since their youth, confirming to them all that they had been right; the everlasting mystery of the estate's earthquakes would be a secret Reginald took with him in death.

Pogo was of no help, and he stayed true to this even now; declining to address the obvious and growing concern of the source of everyone's fear and merely cleared his throat. His eyes remained trained on the ground beneath their feet, his eyes drowning in sorrow and guilt as he waits for it to stop. It's there each of them realizes clearly for the first time what the loss must feel like for Pogo.

The shaking stops, leaving behind a silence so still and fragile that none of them spoke for several moments. Pogo finally collected himself, picking his chin up to reveal his watery eyes.

"Very well," he says, pretending as if none of the last few moments had even happened. They all watch him curiously. "In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today." He takes a deep and steady breath. "For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt."

Diego's hard stare finally leaves Pogo, and he does everything in his power not to release the rage bubbling up inside.

"He was my master," Pogo continues, eyes settling on the small pile of ash in the center of the circle. "and my friend. And I shall miss him very much." Another mournful pause. "He leaves behind a... complicated legacy-"

"-He was a monster," Diego says.

All eyes are pulled to him, and Klaus lets out a breathy cackle. Diego no longer cared for hurting anyone's feelings, the old man had done plenty of that himself.

"He was a bad person and a worse father." His jaw clenches and unclenches as his eyes drill holes into the ashes. Every ounce of pain he felt finally boiling over as the cold rain cools his heated skin. "The world is better off without him."

"Diego-" Allison warns.

"My name is Number Two," he corrects. "You know why? Because our father couldn't be bothered to give us actual names. He had Mom do it."

Again, Grace senses something in her children - she doesn't know what, she hasn't known for some time now but she knows they are in need. On a whim, desperate to uncloud her mind she grasps at the first straw she can reach. "Would anyone like something to eat?"

"No, it's okay Mom," Vanya eases, brushing her hand against her mother's shoulders as she shares a look of uneasiness with Allison.

Grace looks to her daughter, and Vanya almost swears she can see her mom sinking back into whatever daze was holding her hostage.

"Look, you wanna pay your respects?" Diego steps further into the circle, turning to address all who stand in it. His impatient stare lands on Pogo. "Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was,"

"You should stop talking now," Luther seethes, his voice so low it could barely be heard over the light drizzle on the collection of umbrellas.

Diego lets out a scoff they all had trouble distinguishing from a laugh. His eyes land on Luther, as if he was anticipating exactly this. Only a single moment before he turns on him, Diego's eyes wander curiously to Reginald's real number one, but she was only watching him carefully. Analytically. Diego decides to test the waters further.

"You know, you two of all people should be on my side here," he says, gesturing to both of them.

Luther takes a step forward, hissing a warning, and Vanya squares her shoulders as she attempts to calm her breathing.

"He might have had no problem using you for your power, more than any of us," he says to Vanya. "but he still threatened to lock you up anytime he felt threatened by you. Like some animal."

Vanya remained still and concrete, all but her face that happened to twitch upon the mention. She hadn't realized he knew about it.

"Diego, you've proved you're point." Vanya caught the angry tone rising rapidly in her throat, and swallowed as much of it as she could. She took a cautious breath. "Just--"

"Just what? Take a deep breath? Take it down a notch?" He shoots a quick glare at Luther. "Shut up, play along, and pretend he was the father of the year? He didn't adopt us, Vanya, he bought us."

"I said," Luther spit, taking one more large step forward. "stop. Talking."

"And what are you gonna do if I don't, Number One?" Diego spit, matching his step. "You gonna take a page out of our old man's book and banish me? Cause he didn't seem to have a problem doing that to you." He takes another step, teeth gritted, and jabs his finger into Luther's chest with every word. "He couldn't even stand the sight of you."

Something snaps in Luther, and he bats Diego's hand off his chest before throwing his fist after his brother. Anticipation protects him and he ducks before Luther can get a hit in. His reflexes stay in contact even when he resurfaces, and manages to dodge another attack.

The echoes of several grunts and muted punches bounce off the closed walls of the courtyard as the fight escalates. Five and Klaus share an uneasy look as Allison sighs deeply under her umbrella. Any hope she previously harbored for this to go smoothly had evaporated into the air quicker than her breath visible in the frigid air.

As their brawl carried them across the courtyard, Vanya hooked her arm into her mother's arm and pulled her out of harm's way. "You guys!" But they were too absorbed in their anger.

"Boys," gasps Pogo. "stop this at once!"

As Diego hooks another fist into Luther's jaw, Klaus begins to stumble back, sweeping himself and Five to safety with one outstretched arm. As Five backs away, he looks distastefully at Klaus's attempt and swats his hand away annoyed.

Diego staggers when he feels a powerful blow in his back but he quickly recovers. He saunters back, fists at the ready as he beckons Luther further and ignoring Pogo altogether.

"Come on, big boy!"

The giant lunges forward right into Diego's trap where he doubles over from the pain hitting his gut. And just when he does, he feels a rough force strike his spine, hit after hit unrelenting.

Worry flashes in Vanya's eyes. "Stop it!"

The earth shakes again, and just as on any other occasion nobody seems to notice. But it does put them all further on edge as they watch the display before them. All except Klaus.

"Hit him! Hit him!"

Luther launches another fist but again, Diego anticipates the attack and ducks just in time. He uses the moment to his advantage and brings it all the way back into a right hook in Luther's jaw.

It all becomes too much for Pogo, and he shakes his head with a great sigh before turning around and retreating into the quaking building.

Livid, Vanya watches as her brothers throw each other halfway across the trembling courtyard. She's trying to contain the rage and panic she feels she is drowning in.

Several more punches are thrown before Diego launches his boot into Luther's jaw. The shock gives him time to throw another punch but Luther is prepared this time. He catches his fist, blocking the blow, and grabs his brother by the collar hurtling him around. One giant hand bunches up his collar as he steers him backward, throwing Diego off balance and ultimately giving him the advantage.

"Get. Off. Me!" The man claws at Luther's iron grip before managing a strike that sends Luther staggering.

His sudden release sends him wobbling across the courtyard where he very nearly collides with Ben's statue. He pauses to collect his breath, as does Luther but their livid gaze never breaks.

Five, however, sighs disinterested before stalking back off to the kitchens. "I don't have time for this,"

"Come here, big boy!" Diego taunts again, fists out at the ready.

Vanya catches the look in Luther's eyes as he charges and when she drops her umbrella and stumbles forward, she knows she is too late.

Diego slips out of the way at just the last moment, and a bone-chilling boom rings put in the air as his knuckles collide with Ben's statue. They all watch in horror as Ben is sent toppling to the ground, the impact strong enough to decapitate the only remaining image of their departed brother.

The rumbling of the earthquakes come to a halting stop, the world now at a standstill as they gape at the damage they had caused. The silence was deafening, damning even, and the first to break it was Klaus who releases an audible wince and Allison sighs deeply.

"Well, there goes Ben's statue."

Allison knew her family well enough to know she didn't want to be around for what came next. Nor did she want to have to look at the gruesome reminder of her dead brother now freshly laid out before her and she disappeared without another word.

"What is wrong with you?!"

The next thing Diego and Luther feel is an extremely powerful force crashing into their cores and hurtling them back into the freezing concrete. The impact knocks the breath from their lungs and leaves their minds buzzing in their skulls, their ears ringing so loudly they almost don't catch Vanya's venomous tone as she stalks towards them.

The two brothers scramble to their feet, never losing their defensive stance. They shoot one another an uneasy glance, ultimately landing their attention back on their livid sister who manages to tower over them despite their height advantage.

"Will you ever learn when enough is enough?!" She cries. "You two have never been able to put your differences aside for the good of others! Look around! You think this is the first time something like this has happened?"

"Really, Vanya?" Diego spits. "You really want to go there? You really wanna lecture us about the good of the team after what happened to Ben?"

They weren't even a foot apart, neither of them previously aware their temper had egged either of them on. From her chest was a bright orb of blinding white light and all that filled their ears was the sound of a ringing tuning fork as Vanya trapped her brother within her glare. Diego was prepared to take whatever blow she was willing to deal out but to everyone's surprise, it melted away. All that was left was profound sadness.

"He was my brother too, asshole."

Without another word she shoved her shoulder into his arm, shoving herself past him and back to the set of double doors they all had hailed from. Her gloved hands curled around the rain-soaked handles when she heard his spiteful voice ring out in one last desperate attempt at the last word and she freezes instantly.

"Got enough material for your sequel, yet?"

Vanya doesn't need to turn around to know he was facing her now. She can practically see the triumphant glint in his eyes when he knew he had dug the knife in deep enough. That's how he fought. But he seemed to forget she never played when she didn't want to.

It barely took even a passing thought, all she felt was the anger and hurt she embraced from his words and he was sent flying in the air. Vanya never even had to look at him, she only pulled the door open and disappeared inside knowing her brother was catapulted into the air with the force of a small blast from the energy she spiked into the ground he was standing on.

Blood poured from his busted lip as he sat himself up, his eyes landing on Luther with a threatening tone. Luther neglected to speak and broke his gaze away to find the only remaining family members - Klaus, and their mother who didn't seem to be all there. It hits him just how broken they all were, under his leadership. How broken he felt. And it was too much to bear in that moment.

Luther stalked off, nearly ripping the metal courtyard doors off their hinges, and stormed inside.

Diego's eyes find his mothers; they're nearly glazed over and watching the rain behind a veil of bittersweet sadness. He sighed, dropping his head momentarily as his eyes studied the rain crashing against the muddied courtyard ground. And just feet away from his legs was... well, his father. He glared at the pile of ashes, feeling any and all ounce of pain ever inflicted by the once man.

'Proud yet?' He thinks bitterly, pulling himself up to his feet.

Diego limps himself over to his mother, his hand lightly grazing her elbow. "Mom?"

He can see her being reeled back in from thousands of yards away, finally seeming to remember where she was and who she was talking to and it brought a hazy smile to her face.

"Come on," he says to her, allowing her arm to loop into his as he began to guide her out. "Let's go inside. Come on,"

He steps forward to pull the door open for his mother who thanks him with a nod, closing her umbrella and shaking off the remaining droplets before beckoning Diego inside.

All that sat in the courtyard now was the pathetic pile of ashes and Klaus Hargreeves who pushes himself off the stone bench he had been hiding out on. He strolls to the center of the courtyard where their father lay, and he takes a long drag of his cigarette before crouching down to balance on the balls of his feet. He stares into the pile of ashes, the drumming rain on the transparent rubber of his umbrella he huddles under.

"I bet you're loving this," he drawls to his father. He fights a smug smirk but quickly loses. "The team at its best. It's just like old times."

He brings the cigarette back to his lips one final time, relishing in the foul taste of nicotine on his tongue and fingers as he sucks in a deep breath of smoke and cold crisp air. For only a moment, Klaus wonders yet again... What would his father say if he were still here. And then it dawns on him.

Why the fuck should he care?

He put the dying cigarette out in the pile of his father's ashes and rises to his feet.

"Best. Funeral. Ever!"

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