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28th of March, 2019.
The first thing Diego did when he woke up was pick up Vanille's unconscious body and deposit them in the living room sofa. They had fallen asleep at some point, most likely from exhaustion considering what they'd done to him the previous night. He tried not to hate them just a little bit for it; it was difficult to not be overwhelmed with anger. But on second thought, he considered, Five is more to blame than Nil, by any measure.
The second thing Diego did when he woke up, upon leaving Vanille in the academy, was to drive as fast as he could back to his place, and hoped to god that Five was still there. He deserved answers, goddammit; he wasn't going to let those slip through his fingers like his elusive teleporting brother who seemed to hold the full deck of cards in this situation.
He slammed open his door, the harsh sound of old wood banging against cold brick echoing through the room. "Piece of shit," he snarled, making his way rapidly down the slowly-rusting stairs.
"Do you have any idea what you just did?" he spat, striding towards the bed that Five was currently sitting on, looking rather worse-for-wear.
Luther stood up rapidly, wrapping his arms around Diego and hoisting the man a few inches from the ground. Diego let out a grunt from the impact, before wriggling angrily, "Get your ape hands off of me!"
"I can do this as long as it takes for you to calm down," Luther said evenly, an immovable force against Diego's writhing anger.
Diego realised the futility of trying to struggle against his brother a moment later and went limp, "Fine."
Luther planted him back firmly on the ground. "Now, wanna tell us what you're talking about?" His eyes moved towards the door and back at Diego, a frown slowly forming, "Where's Vanille? I thought they went with you?"
"Figured out our brother's been pretty busy since he got back," Diego couldn't help but let that frustration slip into his voice. He was blatantly avoiding the question about Vanille. No, he was the one who needed answers right now; not Luther. "He was in the middle of that shoot-out at Griddy's, and then at Gimbel Brothers, and then the guys in masks attacked the Academy, looking for him."
Five's expression was as neutral and unreadable as ever. "None of which," he said flatly, "is any of your concern."
"It is now," he seethed. "They just killed my... friend."
Luther turned to face his teenage-bodied brother, "Who are they, Five?"
Five's expression did not change, but his shoulders relaxed slightly as if giving way just this once. "They work for my former employer. A woman called the Handler. She sent them... to stop me. Then, as soon as Diego's friend got in their way; well, fair game."
