Chapter Text
“Your life happens in the blink of an eye.” It is a common saying among people, often brought up by those who are aging and feeling the youth sweat out of their bodies with each passing day.
The memories of their younger years is the only thing to hold as time drifts further down into the abyss, creeping closer to death as it continues down it’s path. Even youthful generations find themselves clinging to a period of ignorance, bliss and simplicity.
Ironically, it is these same children who rush to adulthood, and soon find that growing up only increases these melancholy feelings.
There are of course, exceptions to this deduction. These people do not have a tie to the past, often due to their own desire to lose this connection.
Why measure the time after years of pain?
Adulthood did not come to them as a punishment, but rather a blessing. A child cannot withstand higher degrees of pain, and the need to survive drove them into the land of maturity.
One such exception is Klaus Hargreeves. Or as Reginald would call him, Number Four.
It was no secret that this man’s seven children were emotionally stunted.
However, they eventually learned to find comfort in each other. A team of extraordinary children with extraordinary abilities. None of them would ever admit that they are stronger together, but deep down in the depths of their souls it was an undeniable fact.
It just so happened this fact was only true for six of Mr. Hargreeves’ children.
In an Academy based on surreal physical abilities and unexplainable gifts, there is no need for a child without a gift.
“There is just nothing special about you, Number Four.”
The statement became branded into the boy’s brain.
Klaus’s lack of special abilities sent him down a completely different life than his siblings.
While Ben and Diego played on their gameboys, Allison and Luther snuck moments with each other, and Five and Vanya discussed a variety of philosophical ideas, Number Four was burdened by solitude.
In his lonely world, a dull ache was constantly burning in his chest. The pain of being excluded and forgotten.
The air he breathed grew closer and closer to water as years went by, suffocating him in silence.
At age 12, his childhood came to an end. Instead of blissful ignorance, play times, study times and a set schedule, his mind dwelled on the idea of being numb.
The glorious feeling of nothing. The amazing knowledge of knowing your heart beats, but fails to feel. The relief of not caring.
Of course, shutting out pain was not as easy as flipping a switch.
Klaus was well aware of this, his concealed envy for Grace only growing stronger as he saw her fail to understand basic emotions.
God, what he would pay to live like that!
By 13, the boy had come to find that everything in this world had a price, that anything was possible with a will.
So he used the only thing he had: his beauty.
He never knew his birth mother, so he could only guess where he inherited his attractive qualities from.
People found different things about him attractive.
He recalls boys murmuring things about his pale pink lips, soft and gentle while pressed against the skin of another human being.
Some people went on about his relatively sharp jawline, claiming it complimented his mouth in alluring ways.
A man at a bar had once told him “Your smile is the type that makes people stop and stare.”
The list went on and on, from his raven hair with silky black curls, to his thin and sculpted legs that could rock a skirt better than most women.
Even so, there were two things everyone seemed to adore about him.
No matter who it was, everything came back to his enticing green eyes.
If Klaus desired he could write an entire book of people’s descriptions of his eyes.
Some compared them to emeralds, noting the way they shined in the sunlight or the little dashes of blue scattered within an abyss of green.
A few even compared them to stars, claiming they were gleaming and beautiful against the black eyeliner that always surrounded them.
Others seemed to stem from the idea that eyes are the gateway to the soul, describing them as mournful, along with declaring he had some sort of underlying agony behind their notable appearance.
On certain occasions, men would simply be men, making some lewd comment about their “seductive nature”.
His second best asset, according to the perverted society around him, was his voice.
The best way someone had ever described it was a woman at Griddy’s Doughnuts. Klaus couldn’t exactly remember the older woman’s name, but the way she described them was poetic and polite, unlike the way others talked to him.
“Your voice is like a stream,” she said.
“It’s this smooth, continuous sound that just makes you want to take a moment and appreciate being alive. The pitch isn’t too high or too low, but more like this perfect balance that reverberates off every object around you.”
Klaus had been taken completely off guard when she had chimed in.
Initially he found himself flirting with a boy in his late teens, hoping he would offer to pay for a doughnut or any type of subsistence at this point.
The guy ended up making some stupid joke, that Klaus had actually found funny, his real laugh coming out smooth, unlike his usual forced one.
“You know, you have the most satisfying voice I’ve ever heard,” the boy chuckled.
“My voice is satisfying?”
“Especially when you laugh. It’s just the sweetest sound ever. Whenever you talk it’s like my ear is having an orgasm.”
That was when the woman at the shop came over to the counter.
“What can I get for you two gentlemen tonight?”
The guy ordered something generic, then turned to Klaus.
“You want something?”
He smiled, knowing his plan had worked.
“I’ll just take a chocolate eclair.”
“I couldn’t help but overhear, but you do have a very nice voice, young man,” she commented while writing onto her notepad.
“I told you! I just can’t describe why it’s nice. It just is! ” his “date” chuckled.
That night wasn’t really the first time someone had complimented his voice, nor was it the first time he flirted to get what he wanted.
Compared to other things he had acquired, flirting to get a doughnut was an innocent thing.
It was countless times he had flirted for drugs.
Everything has a price, it just depends on how you’re willing to pay it.
Flirting had turned to kissing to sexual favors.
Even through his high, with excitement tingling through his veins and mind finally tranquilized, shame was underlying his every action.
He knew others who suffered the same accursed fate as him, living only for the next high.
Klaus eventually figured out their guilt resulted from losing everything to drugs. A stable home, a perfect family and a perfect life.
Others had assumed he had also lost everything. Rumours around the streets spread, all focused on the idea that he was rich before succumbing to his addiction. Mainly because of his jacket, the only one he had. It was black with a few grey geometric shapes on it, each of the seams covered with real, jet black fur from some sort of animal.
It was a multi-thousand coat, yet he refused to sell it. So people began to talk, saying it held sentimental value for him.
This was all bullshit, but Klaus would never give them the satisfaction of knowing the truth.
The truth that the coat was never his to begin with. Nothing was ever his to begin with.
Indeed, he had once lived in a house worth well over three million dollars, ate five star meals and lived with a billionaire.
It was never his though. His failure to make the cut in the Academy naturally implied he was only given things because the others were.
The money, the house, the academy, his family. They never did and never will belong to Klaus Hargreeves.
His mindset was based around the fact of the matter “You can’t lose something you never had to begin with.”
As for the true source of his guilt, it was not because of losing a battle to drugs. The irony was that he truly had nothing for them to take.
The unbearable guilt, was over his bodily abuse. The only thing that he ever owned, the only useful thing he ever had.
God he abused it in every way.
At this point, his sweat was the tears of his blood, crying due to the pollutants gradually destroying it.
Klaus was always told his body was a temple, a precious thing that only someone special should have access to.
Now it was more like a public park than a temple. Men came and went as they pleased, not caring about damaging it. Having no sympathy for something they saw as pathetic.
With time, dark circles formed under his eyes, ones that could never be removed with simple makeup wipes.
His face was so thin you could cut your finger on his sharpline, as there was barely a layer of flesh upon it.
Beneath his expensive jacket was a torso so thin you could count his ribs and a stomach so flat it was closer to his body than his hip bones.
At 14, his body was pure and gorgeous.
Pale skin that had never been bruised or touched by strange men, abs slightly showing under his hardened stomach, accompanied by a V leading down to his groin.
His legs had a shape back then, his calves perfectly toned and thin in an attractive way.
He had an ass too, that made all of his ripped jeans look amazing on his thin hips.
Now he was like a rail. Lacking any curve or soft flesh. Instead he was a tiny sack of bones with fingers so thin you could mistake them for white pencils.
His old pants barely clung to his non-existent hips.
But then again, this was the life he chose.
Never would he blame someone else for his decisions. The second he ran out that house, Reginald demanding he never return, the choice was made.
Of course he wished to forget that house, forget his failure of a father, forget the whole damn Umbrella Academy.
But not his siblings. That house could burn to the ground and he wouldn’t feel a thing, but the people inside aren’t cold structures just like the academy.
Klaus missed them everyday of his life. He dreamt of them every night since he left. Those other six children were the closest thing he ever had to a family.
It would be a lie if he said he never wondered what they were up to.
He will never admit that every week he goes to the public library and uses the computer to check out their facebooks.
They were all so grown up now, with a few traces of their teenage years still ingrained in them.
Luther didn’t really have social media, but he found out a few things from Allison’s facebook. Apparently the old man had sent him up there to do research for a while. He had returned to Earth a few months ago.
Diego was doing well for himself. He honestly used Facebook a lot more than the others. There were a variety of pictures of him at a Police Academy. A whole album was called “Graduation” and consisted of pictures with their other siblings and the graduating class. A majority of them were with a young woman who appeared to be graduating.
She was cute with her dark brown hair pulled back in a wavy ponytail, smiling next to Diego who never looked happier in his life. The captions said things like “My lovely Eudora graduating with me today” or “What would I do without this girl?”.
Allison had also done extremely well for herself. She had been in a few movies and is rising to fame. She’s just a pretty as Klaus remembered. Her voluptuous curly hair and breathtaking smile were the focus of many pictures. Unfortunately she got married and divorced, which was pretty obvious when her relationship status went from “Married” to “Single” in a few months. Apparently she also had a daughter named Claire, who was a perfect replica of her mother.
Five also wasn’t very big on the whole “social media thing” but some stuff on Vanya’s instagram revealed he looks exactly the damn same as he did when he went missing. There was a brief post about how he time traveled and fucked up the equations when returning to this time period and ended up looking 15 even after all these years. His black hair was still neatly parted and complemented by his blue eyes. He’s still his same old salty self after all.
Ben ended up taking up photography and more artistic hobbies. He was never really into the whole “I have super powers and I’m gonna save the world!” thing, even as a kid. The dude really does have an eye for photography, a few of his photos were bought and put in ads and magazines. It seems like he finally found the more peaceful like he was so desperate to find as a child.
Vanya was always interested in the violin as a child and ended up following her passion. She plays in an orchestra and got the main chair. She also wrote a few books, which Klaus found quite interesting. Her relationship with Allison also seemed to improve, as they weren’t very close as children.
As a matter of fact, the relationships between everyone had improved. Of course Diego and Luther still had many issues, but overall they seemed to spend more time together. Photos of them doing normal things were all over their accounts. Bowling, throwing parties, going to Vanya’s concerts and Allison’s movie premieres.
Klaus couldn’t deny this warm feeling that would wash over his chest whenever he looked at these photos. His heart would beat so fast he would start to sweat and this fire would ignite, burning away any of the effects of his high. It took years to discover that this ignition was not one of rage, but rather affection in its purest form.
His thin fingers would linger over the keyboard for a few seconds, until pressing Ctrl + P. He was grinning so wide his cheeks began to ache and a thrill shot up his spine as the photo of his siblings formed onto a sheet of paper.
Sometimes he would become so short of breath he would clutch his chest under his silky black and grey jacket.
He held that same picture in his pocket for years.
Everything about it was breathtakingly beautiful.
The smiles on his sibling’s faces were legit for once. They were finally free to live and make their own choices, create paths for themselves without their father interrupting.
It was always in these moments, seeing these former captives liberated and enjoying the simple things in life, that Klaus made peace with the fact he had been forgotten.
Freedom is learning to let go.