The Flood // the umbrella academy [Klaus]

s e v e n t e e n

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There it was. It had taken six days to get to this point. Six days to make it to this exact location. The flight was only five hours and it took less than a day to find the building - but it took just under a week to build up enough courage to stand before it in all its grandeur. It was raining, as it always seemed to do on momentous occasions in her life. Call it 'pathetic fallacy'; the weather certainly matched her mood: sad, angry, anxious, apprehensive...

The raindrops cascaded down her face and into her eyes, appearing as tears falling over her crimson cheeks, coloured from the cold. But she wouldn't cry. Not one more tear would be shed for the woman who stole her childhood from her. Her fists clenched, long nails digging into her hands and drawing blood, but she didn't care. The rain healed the wounds as quickly as she created them, carefully stitching her skin back together whilst the sky washed the cardinal liquid away.

Three steps forward. That's all it would take. This is what she came here for after all, wasn't it? She left her family behind, left him behind, all without the truth - just so she could be here. If she didn't go through with her plan she'd not only let herself down, but them as well. And her father...would such cowardly behaviour even warrant a return?

No.

She had to do this. One conversation and her mind would be free. Free from the burning questions, the torment of not knowing why she was so unceremoniously dumped on the doorstep of a rich man ten years prior. It was scary, terrifying even, but Phoebe Hargreeves had faced worse adversaries in her daily life as a 'superhero'. She could do this.

Tentatively taking those few steps forward, she raised her hand to press the ornately modern doorbell, hearing its chimes as it echoed around the house. She heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps, as the large, wooden door began to creak open...

"Bea?"

"Hmm?" She came back to her current scene, softly shaking the memory from her head. With all that had transpired over the past day and her conversation - well confession - with Klaus, Bea was plagued with thoughts of that day, over ten years ago now. "What? I'm sorry," she frowned, "were you talking to me?"

"Yeah..." Diego trailed off, expression matching hers as he glanced back from his position beside her in the back of Five's van. Luther had, begrudgingly, led the two siblings to the van's location, hoping to find some clue as to their brother's whereabouts. Bullying his way into the driver's seat, Diego and Bea had been forced to climb into the back of the vehicle, rifling through Five's cluttered mess. The woman had been frantically searching for clues before halting, almost comically, and staring off into space. Naturally, Diego was concerned. "I asked if you were okay? You just kind of...stopped."

Bea scoffed, letting out a soft laugh as she allowed her eyes to close for a second. Re-opening them, she turned to her leather-clad brother. "I'm fine, sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind."

"We all do; doesn't mean we can slow down our search."

The redhead looked up, glaring daggers at Luther. He wasn't even looking at her, instead electing to dig through the glove compartment. Diego didn't miss the murderous look on his sister's face, nor the way her breathing became heavier. As she opened her mouth to speak, he moved a gloved hand to rest on her shoulder. "Don't," he simply warned. "He's not worth it."

Instead of making a snide comment, which she really wanted to do, Bea took the high road knowing that it would annoy Luther much more. She went quiet once again, continuing her search for clues. After a couple of minutes she sighed, growing steadily distressed as nothing of use turned up in her hands.