The Flood // the umbrella academy [Klaus]

f o u r

Bea found herself mildly entertained by Klaus' attempts to conjure Reginald Hargeeves.

"Listen up, old man. You know," he swayed as he spoke, "if I was murdered, and if one of my sons - adopted sons - happened to be able to commune with the dead, I might think about..." Klaus paused, laughing to himself. "I don't know, I don't know, manifesting! Do the whole big, angry ghost lecture. Tell everyone who done it and find eternal peace."

"Eternal peace is probably overrated," Bea shrugged.

"Come on now, Reggie. Any time now. Please."

Watching Klaus try to summon his dearly departed father with his belly button really put his drugged up state into perspective. While the interaction between man and urn was somewhat entertaining, Bea couldn't help but dampen her smile in realisation that, though he was great at pretending, Klaus was not okay.

"Just need to sober up!" he exclaimed, slapping himself in the face a few times. Point proven, Bea thought to herself. "Clear thoughts. Come on, chop-chop!" Growing frustrated, Klaus shouted loudly at his recently deceased father, "You always were a stubborn bastard!" Turning his head towards the woman sitting on the sofa next to him, he ended his attempts at conjuring. "I don't know about you, but I need a drink." As Klaus reached clumsily behind the urn towards the liquid gold, he knocked his father's ashes over, spilling them along the countertop. "Oh!"

Bea stood up quick as a flash and gasped. "Klaus!"

"Oops!" he said with a giggle.

"Oh, god. That's not funny! Y-you need to put them back." Bea chided, worry overtaking her dismay.

"I will, I will. Just let me get a little drink first."

Walking up next to him, Bea put her hand over Klaus'. "I think sweeping your dad's ashes back into his urn is a bit more important than alcohol, right?"

Klaus paused in his movements, knowing she had him there. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, he relented. "Fine." Using his hand as a brush, Klaus collected together the remains of Reginald and returned them to their rightful place. "So, I'm going to go make a little snacky for my tum - you want anything?"

"I'm good, thanks. I think I'll go and lie down for a while; it's been a heavy day for me so far." Passing by Klaus on the way to her room, Bea reached up to place a hand on his face, kissing his cheek fondly. "See you later."

Phoebe Hargreeves didn't turn around as she left the room; if she had she would have seen her childhood sweetheart lift his hand to cover the place where her lips had graced his skin, smiling dreamily.

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Try as she might, Bea just couldn't sleep. She was drained; family reunions tended to do that. Sleep was exactly what she needed - a twenty minute powernap would have done wonders for her mental health. And yet...something, or someone, was keeping her awake. Every time she closed her eyes he appeared, a gift carved by the Muses themselves. He had always been beautiful and the thing she loved most about him was his eyes. Even with the amount of poison he had pumping through his veins, they sparkled, big and forest green.

They were seven when they met. He was the first of the children to speak to her and his easy nature allowed them to become fast friends. As they grew older, their friendship blossomed into something more - or tried to. The attraction was there, both physical and mental, but something always held the boy back. It was only when they were sixteen that their 'relationship' could start to blossom, due to her blunt confrontation about it.

*13 years ago*

'Klaus...am I getting the wrong message here?" The girl asked, sitting down on the floor.