❛In a family of extraordinary individuals, sometimes the most dangerous power is the ability to be ordinary. ❜
𝖎𝖓 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖍...
zero wishes the apocalypse
would take her with it
umbrella academy female insert
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A RELUCTANT RETURN ❛If you won't do it for yourself, or for the others, then do it for Zero.❜
The dingy motel room was a far cry from the opulent Hargreeves mansion, but to Klaus, it felt like a sanctuary. Sprawled across the threadbare comforter, he stared at the water-stained ceiling, a half-empty bottle of whiskey dangling precariously from his fingertips. The room swam in and out of focus, a hazy blur that matched the fog in his mind.
"Klaus," Ben's voice cut through the silence, tinged with exasperation. "You can't keep ignoring this. The funeral's in a few hours."
Klaus groaned, rolling onto his side to face the translucent figure of his deceased brother. "Can, and will, dear Benerino," he slurred, raising the bottle in a mock toast. "Here's to dear old dad, may he rest in... well, wherever megalomaniacal assholes go when they kick the bucket."
Ben sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This isn't just about Dad, Klaus. It's about family. Your family. They need you there."
Klaus let out a harsh laugh. "Family? Is that what we're calling it now? Because last I checked, 'family' doesn't typically involve child soldiers and trauma bonds."
"I know it's complicated," Ben pressed on, his voice softening. "But this might be your chance to start healing, to reconnect-"
"Reconnect?" Klaus interrupted, sitting up abruptly. The room spun, but he pressed on. "With what, exactly? The memories of being locked in a mausoleum? The constant disappointment in Dad's eyes? Oh, or maybe the warm, fuzzy feeling of being the family fuck-up?"
Ben's form flickered, a sign of his growing frustration. "You're not a fuck-up, Klaus. You're just-"
"Just what? Misunderstood? A diamond in the rough?" Klaus's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Save it, Ben. I've heard it all before."
I should put it all behind me, shouldn't I? Klaus he wondered aloud, the question hanging heavy in the air.
"Fine," Ben snapped, his patience wearing thin. "If you won't do it for yourself, or for the others, then do it for Zero."
Klaus paused, the bottle halfway to his lips. "Zero? What's she got to do with this?"
Ben seized the opening. "Think about it, Klaus. While we all got to leave, to build lives outside that house, she's been stuck there. With him. All this time."
But I see her in the back of my mind, all the time,
A flicker of something - guilt? concern? - passed over Klaus's face. "She chose to stay," he muttered, but there was less conviction in his voice.
"Did she?" Ben challenged. "Or was it the only option she thought she had? You know how Dad was with her. The 'perfect' child, the one who could finally live up to his expectations."
Klaus winced, memories of Reginald's sharp words and disappointed glares flooding back. "It's not like I could have done anything," he said weakly.
"Maybe not then," Ben conceded. "But you can now. She needs all the family she has, Klaus. A real family. Not the twisted version Dad tried to create."
Klaus was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the grimy carpet. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "What if I can't do it, Ben? What if I go back there and... and I can't handle it?"
Ben's expression softened. He moved closer, wishing not for the first time that he could offer physical comfort. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Klaus. And you won't be alone. I'll be right there with you."
Klaus chuckled, but it was a hollow sound. "Great, so I'll have my dead brother for moral support. That won't freak anyone out at all."
"Hey, I'm an excellent source of moral support," Ben retorted, a hint of a smile on his face. "Besides, think of how much it'll annoy Diego if you show up sober and put-together."
That got a genuine laugh out of Klaus. "Now that's a tempting thought." He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Fine. Fine! I'll go. But I'm not promising to be nice, or sober, or... whatever it is normal people do at funerals."
Ben grinned. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
Klaus hauled himself to his feet, swaying slightly. "Right. Shower first, I think. Can't show up smelling like a distillery. Well, I could, but that might be a bit on the nose, even for me."
As Klaus stumbled towards the bathroom, Ben called after him, "Hey, Klaus?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm proud of you."
Klaus paused in the doorway, his back to Ben. For a moment, he seemed to struggle with something, his shoulders tense. Then, almost too quietly to hear, he murmured, "Thanks, Ben."
As the sound of running water filled the room, Ben allowed himself a moment of hope. It wasn't much, but it was a start. And for the Hargreeves family, sometimes a start was all you could ask for.
