Sarcasm | Five Hargreeves

2 | little number five has returned

The Hargreeves found themselves gathered in the vast living room of their family estate, a space that seemed to amplify the weight of their complicated history. Each minute ticked by with an unspoken tension, palpable and thick, casting a shadow over the reunion they never anticipated nor truly desired.

Klaus, unable to retain solemnity, was the only one making noise as he clinked the many liquor glasses together and poured something for himself in the bar a few feet away. Y/N was sitting on the couch cross legged, absentmindedly picking at her nails before she accidentally pulled too hard and broke it, earning an unamused huff from Allison beside her.

As Luther attempted to break the oppressive silence with a hesitant suggestion, the tension only seemed to grow. "Um. I guess we should get this started," he ventured, standing up.

Y/N, ever the skeptic, arched an eyebrow as she turned her gaze from her nails to Luther, her expression a mix of resignation and thinly veiled defiance.

"So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown," Luther continued with a shrug. "Say a few words, just at Dad's favorite spot."

"Dad had a favorite spot?" Vanya interjected softly.

"You know, right under the oak tree. We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?"

The heavily weighted silence that followed was pretty self-explanatory.

"Daddy's boy," she whispered, rolling her eyes at Luther's unbearable dumbfoundedness. 

Klaus, ever the provocateur, sauntered back into the room with a glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other, his irreverence a stark contrast to the occasion. "Will there be any refreshments?" he quipped, his voice laced with a sarcasm that barely masked his discomfort. "Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner" he added.

"What? No. And put that out. Dad didn't allow smoking in here," Luther ordered.

"Is that my skirt," Allison interrupted incredulously, looking at her brother's attire in disbelief.

Y/N glanced down at Klaus's waist, confirming Allison's suspicion with a barely concealed smirk. 

"What? Oh, yeah, this. I found it in your room. It's a little dated, I know, but it's very breathy on the bits," Klaus made a gesture around his crotch, giving his siblings a full and disgusting idea of what he meant.

Luther, sensing an opportunity to steer the conversation back on track, cleared his throat and straightened his posture. "Listen up," he began, his voice gaining a sense of urgency. "There are still important matters to discuss, all right?" 

"Like what," Diego questioned.

"Like the way he died," Luther replied firmly, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

Y/N's gaze hardened and she couldn't help but feel a little frustrated towards her brother as she spoke up to explain the situation to him again. "Luther, I was there. I'm the one who called the paramedics, and they're the ones who told me he died of a heart attack. What can't you understand?"

"Well, according to them. And the coroner..."

"Well, wouldn't they know," Vanya asked, confused.

"Theoretically," Luther answered.

"Theoretically," Allison leaned forward in sought interest, her voice tinged with intrigue. 

"I'm just saying, at the very least, something happened. The last time that I talked to Dad, he sounded strange."