His Only Hope

Innocence

You pulled her to the side as Klaus showed the others his book of newspaper clippings and various other papers on your mothers.

"What do you want?" she asked without meeting your eyes, her tone tense. 

"You know what I want," you replied in a harsh whisper, your chin tilted up at her defiantly. "I want my memories back. And I want to know why you took them in the first place."

"I took them to spare your feelings," Allison said, raising her voice, and Diego glanced over with a furrowed brow. You shook your head at him slightly and he reluctantly turned back to Klaus. "Because your mom was a shithead, and I didn't want you to think you could only amount to what your mother amounted to. Which was being a dirty thief."

"I didn't need you to spare my feelings," you replied, shaking your head at her. "I'm not weak. I needed the truth."

"You are weak," she told you, and you flinched away from her, unsettled by the steadiness in her voice as she insulted you. "Every day you continue to prove that. You're upset that I hid something from you when I was trying to protect you like nobody ever did for me. We all have shit to work through, Eight. Get over yourself."

You stared up at her, your lips parting slightly in surprise. Allison had always been the kind one, the gentle one, the one you went to for comfort. What was going on?

"I trusted you," you said slowly. "I trusted you with a lot of things. I've told you more than any of the others. All I wanted was your honesty in return."

"And you have it," she said coldly, leaning down so that she was eye level with you. "Your mother was a bitch. All she wanted was money for her precious drugs. And you're going to be just like her."

"Shut up," you snapped, shaking your head at her. "Just... God, Allison. What the fuck?" Your hands clenched and unclenched at your sides, the desire to hit her overwhelming. "I don't do drugs, and you know that. You know what? I don't know why I'm arguing with you right now. You can't see reason." You spun to face the others, desperate for a change in topic - and company.

You suddenly felt the beginning of a strong wind again, and you stumbled away from everyone, leaning against the wall in the hallway outside the room. You sat heavily on the floor and formed a shield around yourself, pleading inwardly that it would protect you.

The wind slammed right through it, smacking your head back against the wall. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut until the wind passed. It felt less like wind now and more like a physical thing, like a solid rock shoving you around.

You took a shaky breath and tried to clear your throbbing head, slowly making your way back into the room.

"We need to figure out who did this!" Klaus was saying, poking his book of papers aggressively. "This is the main thing!"

"Oh, is that all you care about?" Diego asked, leaning on the table and glaring at Klaus. "'Cuz it was obviously Dad, okay? He hated us in '63, boom! Murdered!"

"Well, Dad wasn't pure evil," you said, frowning. "He wouldn't kill innocent people."

"You're too innocent for this conversation, Eight," Diego interrupted as Allison laughed dryly.

You glared up at him, squaring your shoulders. 

"Just because I look little doesn't mean I am. I've gone through just as much shit as you."

"She does still hesitate when she cusses," Klaus pointed out, and you grit your teeth, turning away from them.

"All I'm saying is this: Dad never killed anyone, as far as we know."