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mannanoo · 10 months

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Masks and Facades

No Warnings Apply Teen and Up Audiences Klaus Hargreeves and Number Five The Umbrella Academy Word Count: 6,794 Completed.

Klaus is sober and Five is capable of feeling emotions.

That being said, just because Five does have a heart, doesn't mean he knows how to actually use it to bond with his brother

Or maybe he does because it's just so easy to talk to Klaus.

Sober Klaus was… different. Unexpected. An outlier.

Not to say that it was unexpected that Klaus would ever be able to get sober, no. But his behaviour was definitely unexpected.

For one, while sober, Klaus couldn’t cook anything. Toast was a struggle. Compared to when he was high as possible when he seemed to become a 4-star chef.

While sober, Klaus was definitely more distracted by the ghosts around him. Sure, he’d learned to deal with them better than when Sir was ‘training’ them, but they were definitely more distracting. But while high, the only ghost he seemed to see was Ben. Five was sure that was because of stubbornness, however he couldn’t figure out whether it was stubbornness on Ben’s part to try and stop Klaus’ destructive behaviours or whether it was Klaus subconsciously needed some sort of support, especially the kind of support that could be easily ignored or couldn’t physically stop him.

Five supposed, the reason he was so caught up on how Klaus had changed was because it was the more noticeable change between his siblings. After Five had managed to make his way back from being stuck in the future and then under The Commissions thumb, his siblings hadn’t changed all that much, bar the change in Ben’s mortality. But he had already grieved Ben, along with his other siblings in the future. He knew how Ben died, granted he didn’t know the details. He suspected the only people who would know how Ben had died would be those who were present. Vanya wouldn’t know, and despite everything else she had written in her book, he doubted very much that she would write the details of their brother’s death in her book.

But, back to the subject.

In the week that followed his return, Five noticed in the back of his mind every time Klaus changed. Whether it was for better or worse. Klaus was always more… flexible. More mouldable. He wore masks, whether he realised it or not, Klaus had masks for each person he spoke to. His default though, seemed to be the junkie who could see ghosts. That was the mask Klaus had started to carefully construct when they were younger, before Five has disappeared. It was the mask he wore when he was faced with more than just one of his siblings. It was the mask he had defaulted to when Five returned.

Which had, stung. More than he’d like to admit. Five knew that mask well. It was the mask Klaus used when he didn’t know who he was talking to. It had definitely stung that Klaus used the mask with Five, but he knew the reason. For them, he had been gone for 16 years. Even though it had been longer for him, he knew he wasn’t the same person as when he was 13. He wasn’t the same person, but Klaus being able to see that immediately through the haze of pills and alcohol that was a constant in his system now stung.

But he took it with stride. He knew how Klaus ticked, and it made him feel warmer inside when Klaus had acted the same way Five knew when they were younger. The idiot with poor impulse control but who could always get them out of trouble with a new mask for a new person. Although his lip had stung and he was sure that his brother’s forehead was stinging through his fogged-up mind, he smiled when he saw that Klaus had once again got them out of trouble.

That moment, that small, seemingly insignificant moment was the exact point when the default mask had started cracking and slipping from his face as he turned to Five and asked for his twenty dollars after the front doors to the lab shut behind them. With that job taken care of, Five decided his efforts were better spent on averting the apocalypse. If he needed his siblings, he would tell them, would take Luther’s place as leader. But until then, he needed Klaus to see him as his brother again but he needed, more than anything to know they were all safe. If they weren’t involved, then they wouldn’t die and then he would have at least changed something and they wouldn’t be alone. But until then, until he knew whether he had succeeded in averting the apocalypse, he needed to keep one eye on his siblings and one eye on finding Dolores. And the fake eye on averting the apocalypse.

Finding Dolores had been a priority since he came back. But when Hazel and Cha-Cha found him with Dolores, both eyes had been on getting out alive with Dolores. He had kept running until he got back to the Academy. He had stitched himself up, his only thoughts on keeping Dolores safe and fixing the apocalypse. Surely his siblings would be fine while he altered his calculations. They had grown up the same as him after all.

They would all be fine.

Until they weren’t.

After he had come back to the Academy, dragged there by Diego who didn’t want him in his disgusting boiler room anymore. He had found the trail of wet, bloody footprints coming from the small bathroom directly to Klaus’ room. He had been shocked and curious by the trail of diluted blood. He had been prepared for some blood in the mansion, after Diego and Luther mentioning Hazel and Cha-Cha’s uninvited visit. He hadn’t been prepared for his brother.

In the few days it had been since Five had seen his ghostly brother, he had not expected such drastic changes. The new tattoos and the new-old dog tags around his neck didn’t shock him as much as the air surrounding him.

Klaus had always been a cold person physically. He had used it to torture his sibling’s countless times when they were children, had even used his freezing hands to try and throw them off when they were all forced to spar with each other by Sir’s insistence. They all knew it was due to his powers. And they all knew that the more ghosts clinging to him, the colder he was. Since Five had returned, Klaus seemed to have been at a constant temperature, kept consistent by the only ghost clinging to him being Ben. But the shift in temperature as Five stepped through the doorway to his brother’s room shocked him. It was like walking into a freezer. It was like something in the room was sucking out all heat, but Five knew that it wasn’t on purpose. He could also see how dirty-clean Klaus was. Physically, he was still quite dirty and rough looking. There were still spots of dirt on his skin that seemed like they were tattooed there more than just smeared there. His hair seemed more tamed than usually, but on Klaus it just seemed wrong. Off. No matter how clean it would look on anyone else, on his brother, it still seemed dirty and unkept.

But his eyes were the biggest change.

Five could still tell his brothers head was foggy. His mind was still hazy and his eyes were still glossy, but it was different this time. It was a cleaner, more pure fog that graced his brothers mind. There was no other way to describe it, but despite how high Klaus might have looked to the untrained eye, Five knew. He knew the symptoms. He knew that his brother had travelled in time and come back the same age, give or take however long he had been gone. His mind was already firing up questions and calculations, answering questions to himself that he hadn’t asked already. His feelings for his brother and how he might have felt were filed away for the moment. He knew when he went for a more analytical view of life that Dolores hated it, hated seeing him shed all sense of person, but in that moment, that brief moment of amazement that his brother had managed to get Hazel and Cha-Cha’s briefcase and use it, he couldn’t remember why it was so bad. Why it was so wrong to see the bigger, clearer image.

His moment of elation was quickly shut down when Klaus wouldn’t (couldn’t, his brain later supplied, when he was thinking with his heart and head in equal balance) answer his questions. When he had told his younger-older brother that he had broken the briefcase, that he had left it on that street corner to explode and burn when he had the chance. He wasn’t thinking about his brother. He needed that briefcase. He needed that briefcase to blackmail Hazel and Cha-Cha. Anything else was irrelevant. If he had that briefcase, he could stop the apocalypse from happening. He could save his siblings from dying. He wouldn’t have to bury them a second time.

(He knew in the back of his mind, that the worst thing the Commission could do to him if he failed to stop the apocalypse would be to save him. Save him and let his siblings die and make him grieve them all over again. And let him repeat the cycle of trying to save his family and failing and trying and failing and trying and failing and-)

The door swinging back against the wall knocked him out of his thoughts as Klaus left. He hadn’t seen his face, but he knew, he just knew that Klaus had a different mask for him now. It would be a completely new one and there was no way that Five would know what it could be. He had just thrown all of Klaus and his new changes to the side in favour or plotting (of trying to save his family. Feelings didn’t matter now if he couldn’t save them later) but he knew that Klaus wouldn’t-couldn’t give him the junkie mask.

Five had already seen that Klaus was clean. Even if he didn’t know exactly why, he knew there was a reason for being clean and Five knew that Klaus knew that he knew that. Which meant Klaus couldn’t put forward the junkie mask again.

Not any time soon at least.

(There’s no time for feelings. Hazel and Cha-Cha don’t know the briefcase is broken. They can still be used. We can still fix the world and then fix our family)

He wasn’t sure when he had started referring to himself as we. Maybe when he saw the Academy destroyed. Maybe when he buried his siblings. Maybe when he couldn’t find Vanya. Maybe when he found Dolores. Maybe when he lost Dolores. Maybe when he gone back to his 13-year-old body but was still older than all his siblings who were all born on the exact same day or the exact same year as him.

Maybe when he realised that Sir Reginald was right and that he wasn’t ready for time travel. Maybe when he realised that he hadn’t come out of the ice properly.

Maybe he had come out of the ice properly and the travel had changed everyone else.

He wasn’t sure anymore, and he wasn’t sure the other part of his brain that referred to him as ‘we’ knew either.

Dolores would know, but he wasn’t sure-they- weren’t sure they-he- wanted to admit he was wrong this soon. Especially not about hurting his brother by pushing his heart aside and thinking with his head.

The days that followed, he saw Klaus much less. It was his own fault, but he couldn’t dwell on that. Not after he had filed away Klaus’ feelings for his own gain and effectively broken that mask that Klaus had spent time creating and perfecting for him. His mask with Diego was more open, more vulnerable. With Luther it was the same as it had always been, just crazy enough to keep Luther away from him but just friendly enough that he wasn’t a threat. But it kept shifting with Five now. For a moment it would be the junkie mask, the next moment it would be the mask he had spent years on, the next it would be a combination of all the masks Klaus used on his siblings separately.

It stung Five to know he had shattered the mask Klaus wore with him. It stung to know that once it was complete, he would most likely get the same new default mask. The mask he’d be able to wear with all his siblings together that wasn’t the old ‘junkie-who-can-see-ghosts’ mask.

It stung to know he had become a stranger to his brother again when all Five could think was he didn’t want to bury his brother again.

The sting of his failure to recognise his brother’s emotions didn’t leave him. Especially when he was designated the lookout like nothing had changed when everything had actually changed. It stung when he saw that confident, smug look on his brothers face after he manifested Ben and used their dead brother’s powers. The smile that Five had carefully crafted all those years ago, because it was the one thing he had over Sir Reginald. That he was better at controlling his powers than his siblings and he knew it but Sir Reginald couldn’t do shit about it because they both knew he wasn’t wrong.

It stung to know his brother didn’t have a mask for him any more but that he had been carefully crafting Five’s smug smile, even after he had disappeared. Because Five knew, that no matter how hard he had tried when they were younger, Klaus could never get the perfect balance between overconfidence and justified confidence that had come naturally to Five.

A few months after they had averted the apocalypse, and a few days after Five was absolutely sure that they were all safe from The Commission, he had decided it was time to come face to face with his brother again. He knew that whatever mask Klaus had made for him would sting, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid it forever. Not when all of his siblings were insistent on having ‘family-bonding-time’ to try and stop any chance of another apocalypse happening. He knew that Klaus had been practising with his powers along with Vanya so they could both learn at their own pace. He knew that they had bonded over Sir Reginald’s ‘training’ induced claustrophobia. Neither of them wanted to chance of being locked away to deal with their powers again and had elected to train each other outside in the garden, by Ben’s new memorial. One that had been made after Klaus had manifested Ben one day, who had then made a comment about how much he had hated the statue and was glad when Luther had knocked it down at their dad’s funeral.

The new memorial was much better, in all of their opinions. Instead of a statue with the vaguest influence of their brother, they had all chosen to take care and help grow a large evergreen tree. It had taken a while to get it to the right size, but since they had all been thrown into the past to help Vanya anyway, by the time they had caught up to themselves in the timeline, the tree towered over the garden and was perfect for climbing. It had become one of Klaus’ favourite spots in the grounds of the Academy and there was almost a guarantee that no one would interrupt them when Five had made up his mind (it was his own now. He had stopped referring to his body and mind as we. He wasn’t sure when, but it had happened and he wasn’t going to question himself).

He had planned out the encounter perfectly. He’d wait until early evening, when Klaus and Vanya had finished training with each other, when Diego had gone to do some PI work (he still justified it as being a vigilante but they all knew he had stopped being ‘Batman’ nowadays), when Luther and Allison were off, either working on their weird relationship or helping Allison get Claire back (they were all becoming quite anxious to meet their niece every time Allison talked about her so there was no chance Allison or Luther would be willing to interrupt his encounter with Klaus). He knew that Klaus and Ben had an agreement that early in the evening, Ben would go off to do whatever ghost things he did and Klaus would enjoy the setting sun (it had quickly become his favourite past time during his times at rehab and had made getting sober easier on him every day when he was ‘trapped’ in rehab. (He hadn’t said it, but they all knew it was because of Mom and Pogo reminding him on particularly bad days that there couldn’t only be ghosts in the world because then there would only be darkness and a sunset couldn’t exist in an everlasting darkness. He didn’t need to say it.))

Five had gone to sleep the day before, after going over his plan in his head for the fifth time and to Dolores for the third time. He had planned it perfectly, even down to the time he would need to wake up the next day (it wasn’t any different than normal but if he woke up later then the plan would have to wait for another day (“Yes it does matter Dolores. No, I’m not procrastinating. It matters. It always matters.”))

He was going to sleep for 9 hours, and wake up at exactly 8am. (“Even if I’m a minute late waking up then it waits another day, Dolores. I already told you, it always matters.”)

His plan was perfect and timed and there was no way it would go wrong.

Until he was woken up to the smell of coffee, the noise of a mug being plonked on his bedside table, his curtains being thrown open to let the sun shine directly onto his face and a body sinking onto the bed right by his head. He sat up sharply, reflexively reaching beside him (his gun was gone. He couldn’t protect himself- there was nothing to protect himself from. He was safe. He is safe. He didn’t-doesn’t- need the gun anymore. He didn’t before but he definitely doesn’t now.) He turned his head to the side to look at his alarm before even attempting to figure out who had woken him at-

28 minutes past 4. In the morning. 4:28 AM.

His plan was ruined. It would have to wait until tomorrow.

He turned to face the person who had woken him up and ruined his plan, ready to lash out at Luther or Diego or Allison. Vanya wouldn’t have woken him at this time of morning. (Allison probably wouldn’t have either, but it was still her preferred method of waking him up. Annoying him awake with light and sound before making him compliant with coffee.)

His words died on his tongue when he came face to face with Klaus.

Klaus, smiling at him.

Klaus smiling at him.

He wasn’t sure what shocked him the most. The fact that Klaus, the brother he had been very obviously ignoring for the past few… however long it had been (time travel would always be a bitch) or that fact that it was Klaus who had come to him first.

Klaus wasn’t a patient person. All of their siblings knew that. They all also knew that Klaus would easily annoy other people but wouldn’t get annoyed easily. But when he was annoyed, or hurt mentally, he knew how to hold a grudge. Five expected Klaus to try and get away from him as soon as he put his plan into action, which is why he had chosen to try and corner him on his perch of some of the taller branches of Ben’s tree (Klaus may still have destructive tendencies, but they had lessened significantly since he had become sober (since he came back from Vietnam after watching someone he loved die) it was one of the changes Five found fascinating about his brother. That he could be so destructive for years of their lives, even after seeing their little brother (Ben would always be the little brother despite being the same age as the rest of them and not being the smallest. He had tended to try and take up the least amount of room possible and became the little brother while Vanya had become their little sister) die. He had kept up his destructive tendencies even after he had died and overdosed so many times (“He overdosed 9 times before he figured out the limit and died 6 other times while high, once while sober” Ben’s voice echoed in his head.) and it was only when it was someone who had loved him back and loved him fully through his misgivings and until his death, that Klaus had decided it wasn’t worth the risk to destroy himself to piss of Sir Reginald (Sir Reginald who still didn’t care what Klaus did, just that he had been a disappointment to him).

Five was still processing and sorting through all his early morning intrusive thoughts when Klaus smile brightly at him (it was Five’s mask. The same one as before. Somewhere deep inside him a coil of tension unfurled and soothed. Maybe he hadn’t broken everything) before grabbing the mug of coffee and pushing under Five’s nose.

“I got that coffee you were banging on about. Figured you might have noticed it already, but looks like you haven’t.” He had noticed it. He knew that someone had bought it for him. He knew that it had probably been Klaus. But he hadn’t been ready to face his brother and therefore wasn’t ready (deserving) to have a decent cup of coffee so had suffered. He blinked slowly, still trying to get rid of the grogginess before slowly lifting his hands to take the mug out of Klaus’ hand and away from his face. (The mug was close to overflowing and he was sure Klaus had already spilled a few drops on his nightstand and bed already, and he could tell the coffee had been brewing too long but he would still drink it (no one had gone through this much trouble for him since… since forever. He wasn’t used to this but he thought he might be able to) because Klaus had made it).

“No. Smiling this early in the morning is unnatural and disgusting. Do you even realise what time it is?” He knew his words were sharper than he wanted them to be, but he still couldn’t get past the fact that his plan to confront Klaus had been ruined by Klaus confronting him.

“It’s half past four in the morning and you have been ignoring me and the coffee I bought you. Don’t complain.” The smile left Klaus’ face, but eh amusement in his eyes didn’t leave and the mask didn’t change. Silence fell between them, but it was comfortable as Five lifted the mug up to his face and managed to take a small sip of too bitter (burnt) coffee without wincing. A few moments passed before Klaus opened his mouth to say something, but Five beat him to it.

“I’m sorry.” Klaus froze. Five didn’t look at him-couldn’t look at him. He knew he had been wrong to push Klaus aside before (later? He still wasn’t sure when it was). He had known even as he asked about the briefcase instead of what happened to his brother, when he got angry about the briefcase being destroyed and his brother messed with the dog tags (Dave’s dog tags. The only person outside the family Klaus had loved and who had loved him back equally. He needed to start using his name. He was worth that in the very least). He knew when instead of running after his brother he had sat down to scribble a note to meet with Hazel and Cha-Cha (the ones who had tortured his brother for information he didn’t have and who couldn’t keep hold of their briefcase long enough to keep it out of Klaus’ sticky fingers (it was their fault Klaus had been tortured in that motel and then with a love he couldn’t keep (but then it was also Five’s fault and he knew that))).

Klaus’ jaw was still hanging open and amazement had replaced amusement in his eyes. In all their years (he still wasn’t sure but without Dolores he knew his calculations would definitely be wrong) Five had never apologised. Not when they were children, not when he came back, not when they went back and not when they had finally been able to live their lives and start acting like a family. (He still needed to apologise to Vanya for saying she wasn’t important during the apocalypse (she was, she always had been important, regardless of her part in the apocalypse (but he needed to finish apologising to Klaus first.)))

“Dolores always hated when I stopped thinking properly but I just couldn’t stop and I wanted to be your brother again but then I didn’t want to bury you again and if I had the briefcase then I could stop Hazel and Cha-Cha without killing them because Luther really doesn’t like the idea of me murdering people and I didn’t want to-I don’t want to, but there wasn’t much choice because I didn’t want to bury you all again because it would be my fault if you all died because it would mean I’d failed and it’d be all on me and all my fault. I’m sorry I didn’t ask about what happened, or where you went, or when you went, or who you lost but I couldn’t stop thinking about how I could save you all because I didn’t want to lose all of you all over again.” His words spilled out of his mouth like bitter coffee. They stung, and burnt his throat, and numbed his lips and cheeks and tongue and he didn’t even realise he was crying until he felt the burning coffee mug (it wasn’t hot enough to burn his throat so why- oh yeah, the tears) being pried from his death grip (he hadn’t realised he was gripping it so tight-that must have been why his fingers were burning) and when he felt his brother’s cold (they were always so cold) hand reach up to wipe away his tears with one hand while he set the mug down on the coffee table again (carefully this time-Klaus must have noticed the few drops he’d spilt before). The trails of salt on his cheeks that were making his way into his mouth through his open lips (that must have been the sting. The salt from his tears). He didn’t even realise how much he was crying until his brother’s voice slowly started to echo in his ears past the ringing and slight pain at his temples.

“… two, three, four. Breathe out, one, two, three, four.” He felt his breathing slow, and opened his eyes (when did he close them (better question: when did he lift his hands up to press his fingers into his temples?)). He looked into his brother’s face and saw him smile shakily with wet eyes. (Five was the one who had been crying, there was no need for Klaus to have tears in his eyes (He realised later, when he was more awake and more… steady that Klaus was close to crying because his brother was crying-he didn’t know when he would get used to seeing his family care about him again (they couldn’t care if they were just corpses he was burying))) “Just breathe for a minute Five.” Klaus paused in his words as he helped Five bring his hands to warm themselves around the mug of coffee again, and wiped the remainders of the tears from his little (no matter how much Five wanted to disagree, he had always been the smallest of them all (only just in comparison to Ben or Vanya, but smaller nonetheless)) brother’s face.

“There’s a lot to unpack there Five.” (He knows there’s a lot to unpack, it was his fault for all of it anyway (maybe not the actual apocalypse but his definitely still played his part in that.) “But you know I don’t blame you right? Like, none of this was your fault. Especially none of the stuff with Dave or Hazel and Cha-Cha. You didn’t make them kidnap me, or torture me, and you weren’t the one who set that briefcase to the fucking Vietnam War. I mean, you didn’t even send them after you or any of us in the first place. The only person I blame is that Handler lady and dad but that’s just because I blame him for everything.” He paused again, taking a breath to look straight into Five’s eyes (he did that a lot-now he was sober. It was one of the bigger but more subtle changes Five had noticed now Klaus was sober. He could look people in the eye now). He wiped off the remainder of Five’s tears from the corners of his eyes before leaning back slightly. His head tilted slightly (Ben) as he stayed silent before he continued speaking, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “It was extremely shitty, being tortured and then escaping only to end up in Vietnam in the middle of a war in only a towel and my coat, but if the situation came up again, you know the only thing I’d do different?” Five shook his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak, he couldn’t predict what Klaus was about to say. His head was turned too far away from him. Klaus looked at him from the corner of his eyes and Five shook his head again. “I’d save Dave. I wouldn’t wait for him to be killed, or follow him to the front lines. I’d keep him alive til the end of the war, I’d make sure he could go home and see his mom and his sister. Then I’d sweep him off his feet and bring him here, try and make a life with him here so we wouldn’t have to hide anything. That’s all I’d do. Just change it so he could live his life.” Five couldn’t speak.

How could his brother, who had arguably been screwed over physically more than any of them, not only not blame him for what had happened, but also not want to change it? Would willingly go back into a warzone for someone he’d only known for ten months?

He studied Klaus’ profile in silence as he tried to figure out what to respond with. He watched Klaus smile wistfully up at the ceiling. Watched as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes (probably both but Five could only see one of them (he wished he could see both. Just to make sure it wasn’t his brothers eye he’d carried around for years)). He watched as his brother (his big brother. It was starting to grow on him-that he didn’t have to be the strongest or oldest or smartest one anymore) tilted his head to the side again (always tilted it to the left (they all knew that Ben preferred to stay on his right-if only to screw with their father’s number order (they were children. They shouldn’t have been numbered; they should’ve had names))). He realised as he watched his brother just how much he had loved Dave (he was getting there-using his name. Even if he hadn’t said it out loud). There was nothing he could say that would even be close to right in response to that kind of statement (he knew what it implied. He’d sacrificed himself for the only person who had truly loved him and seen past everything (Dave had probably seen him through withdrawals and relapse and the nightmares during that time he spent in the past (he didn’t dwell on how Dave had probably seen Klaus worse than any of their siblings, especially him (he should’ve been there))).

He’d sacrifice himself for the only person he thought loved him without obligation.

He needed to change the subject. He needed to change the subject before he started crying again.

He lifted the mug to his lips to drink the coffee (it was still bitter and burnt but with the added effect of now being too cold (it was still better than anything else because Klaus had tried to make a perfect drink with his favourite coffee (he bought it specifically for him, he’d be damned if he wasted a single drop))).

After he choked down most of the liquid, he put the mug down on his bedside table again (it had to be in the exact same place or else everything would change again). He turned back to look at his (big) brother who was still probably swept up in his memories of Dave.

“It doesn’t absolve me of guilt Klaus.” His voice startled his brother, who snapped his head back to face him in confusion. Before he could retaliate, Five held up his hand and Klaus stopped. His brows furrowed further but quietened down nevertheless. “Just because all that wasn’t my fault, doesn’t mean I should’ve ignored you and your feelings. I should’ve asked about where you were, I should’ve noticed you were even gone. I should’ve asked what happened and not tried to reason my way out of it. Hell, I could’ve mentioned it to Diego or even Luther. I took him with me to try and blackmail Hazel and Cha-Cha with a broken briefcase and I could’ve told him then but I didn’t. And unless you’ve told any of them, then they don’t know either and they should know-we all should know because we’re your siblings and we should care more than we already do.” They both stayed quiet for the next few moments, both trying to absorb all the conversation. Five swallowed the rest of the burnt coffee, resolutely looking down at his bedsheets (still covering his legs, doing nothing to hide the nervous shaking). Once his mug was empty, he stared down at the bottom of it, staring at the coffee grounds that hadn’t been filtered out properly, as if they would give him answers or an idea of what to say (they wouldn’t. he’d tried too many times during the apocalypse to find answers of how to fix everything. He still wasn’t sure they’d done the right thing or that they’d averted the apocalypse completely, but there was no way of telling now the Commission was gone and there were no more briefcases left to travel with.)

“Alright then. It wasn’t your fault and you still feel guilty about being a prick. Is that what you wanted me to say?” Klaus’ serious tone shocked Five more than any part of this conversation. His head snapped up to stare at his (big) brother who was staring up at the ceiling, his head tilted back and his brows furrowed. Five had never seen his brother look as angry as he did now, he wasn’t entirely sure it was possible (Lies. Five had seen Klaus this angry before, the first time all of them, including Vanya, had tried to get Klaus sober. They’d taken all his drugs and half empty bottles from his room and Five had been the one to disappear with them while Luther pinned Klaus down. They’d all ignored his protests and his excuses. They’d all thought he was being dramatic. They’d thought he was being childish. Fuck, they should’ve just listened to him, tried to help. Christ, they were all so messed up.)

“Do you want me to say you’re a prick? That I think you’re a shit brother because you had so much on your mind that you weren’t worried about your druggie brother? Because honestly Five, I don’t blame you for anything, except pissing off in the first place. I don’t blame you for wanting to time travel, I don’t blame you for doing it just because dear old Reggie said you couldn’t, I don’t blame you for getting stuck in the fucking apocalypse, I don’t blame you for being more focused on the entirety of the human race dying than your own siblings, and I definitely don’t blame you for not asking me about my feewings while you were trying to stop us all from dying horribly.” The words were spat out of Klaus’ mouth like venom, as if the topic of emotion was too much, too close, too familial.

That stinging feeling was starting to come back in his chest.

It stung knowing that Klaus didn’t think he was worth feeling guilty for. That he thought he wasn’t worth anything Five was trying to say.

“Do you understand Five? I don’t blame you for anything that happened because I wasn’t your fault and there’s no reason to blame you. The only person I blame for any of this, the only person I will never forgive, is Reginald fucking Hargreeves. He turned us into soldiers and was directly responsible for at least one out of the seven of us becoming a druggie. He’s the reason that Vanya thought she was ordinary, he’s the reason Allison used her powers on us all the time, he’s the reason you disappeared and got stuck in the future, he’s the reason Diego has that scar, that Luther died and was brought back as a science experiment, the reason Ben died, the reason I became a junkie, and the reason why you had to see us all dead along with the rest of the world. There is literally no reason to blame you for ignoring my feelings when you were trying to fix all of his mistakes from when you were thirteen. The only thing he did right was die and not come bitching at me every hour.”

He did. He did understand. It didn’t get rid of the guilt completely, but it definitely lessened.

He didn’t understand how Klaus could feel so… worthless.

He didn’t understand how Klaus, who had been speaking to their dead brother this entire time, who had been sober for this long, had fought in the Vietnam War, had been able to manifest Ben to help keep them alive when they were being shot at, had been able to talk Vanya down after they averted the apocalypse, had essential fixed everything, could feel so worthless.

So undeserving.

Before he even realised, Five was reaching his arms up to pull at Klaus’ arm, tugging him down lightly.

The shock of his touch must have done most of the work, because Klaus was immediately half laying on top of Five’s small body, with Five’s small arms wrapping around his shoulders and his face buried in the nook between Klaus’ neck and shoulder.

The two of them stayed silent as Klaus slowly and carefully wrapped his arms around Five’s waist and they both relaxed into place.

Eventually, Five broke the silence, his murmured words only just making their way into Klaus’ ear.

“Tell anyone about this and you’re dead.” Klaus’ body started shaking as laughter took over his body and he fell out of Five’s grip, clutching his stomach, falling on his back across Five’s covered legs (that were no longer shaking. He wasn’t sure when they’d stopped, but thank Ben that Klaus either hadn’t noticed or jut hadn’t said anything.) Five struggled upwards, pulling his legs out from underneath Klaus’ lithe form to kneel over him. “I mean it Klaus! If you tell anyone I swear you’re dead!”

“Big Bad Assassin Five has emotions! Thank the Lord! It’s a miracle!” Klaus blurted out, and by now, Five was sure he had awoken Diego at the very least, maybe even Vanya (now she had her powers back, she was way too sensitive to any sounds. It had made it hard to try and surprise her now but also meant she was a much lighter sleeper than they’d all remembered her as.)

“Klaus shut up! It’s too early for you to wake up everyone with this shit!” Five shouted back, ignoring the fact that he was probably being even louder than his (big) brother. His statement, however, was contradicted by the fact he was smiling, a much bigger and truer smile than he had ever before (it seemed more like childish glee in this body, however, he couldn’t bring himself to care. They were finally starting to act like siblings. It had only taken some failed time travel, Reginald dying and averting the apocalypse.)

#ao3 to tumblr #ao3 writer #writing #my fic #the umbrella academy #klaus umbrella academy #five hargreeves

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daddycephalopod · 5 months

Text

Stars Fading

Cody x Oc

Summary: A war erupts between the Jedi and Separatists, but you already know that story. This is the story of love blooming in a time of chaos, pain, and disorder.  What will become of our heroes? Who will win? Who will survive?

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49394683/chapters/124650316

Due to trigger warnings related to PTSD, blood, war, and the inclusion of other mature themes as well, I will be posting all of my Clone War Auxiliary fics under the cut as I move them over. I’m moving this one over first because I really hope @starstofillmydream can read it easier this way 💚 she’s been very helpful in the characterization of our beloved Commander. Each fic has a song or lyric for the title, this one is a cover of Dream a Little Dream of Me by Kina Grannis.

Chapter 1: Sunshine

There was a reverent beauty in the setting sun and all that it touched, the skies bursting with pinks and oranges. The peachy color illuminated the part of the hanger where Kyra usually worked on broken or damaged fighter ships. She usually had her black hair pulled back, splotches of ink or oil on her face and the GAR issued mechanic suit.

Always disheveled, always covered in a dark liquid to some varying degree, and yet a certain Commander always found his heart beating a little more loudly as he watched her work. She had no idea he was there, talking to another one of the techs. She was looking up, focused on a wing that took damage. Her googles were on, hair in a messy bun today.

He recognized the other tech to actually be the weapons expert, Isla. She smiled slightly at him, now trying to discreetly get Kyra’s attention but failing.

“I’m just glad it was Kenobi instead of Skywalker. Anakin treats my ships like they’re bantha fodder, made for explosion only. I’ve asked Rory to have a chat with him, I don’t think she does or he doesn’t care when she does.” She said, scanning the wing with the data pad to fully assess damages.

Isla opened her mouth but shut it when Kyra kept going. Cody looked a little amused now.

“I’m tired of these Jedi thinking our resources are expendable, easy to come by. The senate pays the bill for it, sure, but what of it when they don’t or won’t anymore?”

“Do you have something against the Jedi? I might be able to launch a more formal complaint.” Cody said

Kyra almost hit her head, pulling away from the wing now.

“Hello commander.”

Kyra was just a hair shorter than him, able to basically look him in the eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. She rested the googles around her neck now, beautiful brown eyes on him.

“I apologize if it sounds that way, about the Jedi. I’m fond of the generals, just frustrated. My people have a very intricate and annoying relationship with them too, it doesn’t help their case.” Kyra admitted with a sigh

“Where are you from?” Cody asked, genuinely curious.

“Mandalore.”

The answer was short and didn’t offer too much personal information but he had several follow up questions. Maybe this would be a good time to ask her to dinner, which is something he’s been wanting to do for a while. Before he could, Isla witnessed the darkening of his expression. It was like a storm passed through the man at seeing Kenobi approach and Kyra’s expression brighten.

“You’re officially my favorite general, you barely scratch up my work.” She said with a smile.

“I don’t particularly try to be mindful of that in the heat of battle but happy it works out that way. Is Cody bothering you?” He asked

“No, he could never. The man is like sunshine is plastoid.” Kyra said, not able to look at Cody as she said it.

Isla winked at Cody, “I’m gonna head back to work on some stuff and see Jesse. Are you going to 79s later?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you there.” Kyra said before beginning to work on the wing again.

“I’m inclined to agree, Cody is a wonderful asset to our team. As are you, you work very hard to keep us in the air.”

“Did Skywalker crash another one?” She asked, pulling some wires out of the wing as she spoke.

Those probably weren’t supposed to come out so easily.

“Yes. But I mean it, you’re a great asset to this team.”

Kyra blushed and waved him off, “thank you but really. Please. Yell at Skywalker.”

Kenobi smiled at that, “I’ll do my best.”

He left at that, it was just Cody and Kyra now. Did she have feelings for his general? Why did that sit funny with him?

“Will I find you among the other commanders and captains tonight, Cody?” She asked

“Maybe.” He answered, genuinely unsure.

He had so much to do in terms of paperwork and preparing for tomorrows meeting, but those beautiful brown eyes seemed to shine in the sunlight when they looked at him. They were an amber brown.

“I’ll look for you.” She said

That made his heart flutter but he chose to ignore it. She probably did like Kenobi, who wouldn’t? He had developed a slight crush on the man but it seemed to go away with time. Cody was pulled from his thoughts by Waxer, who was showing him a data pad to sign off on shinies.

Kyra had gone home after her work was done to wash up and change, going to 79s after. Isla was the only one there and she was preoccupied by Jesse so Kyra sat at the bar by herself. She was two whiskeys in when Cody approached her, sitting next to her at the bar now.

“Not going to go fight off potential bed warmers at the high command table?” She asked, probably a little too bold from the liquor.

Maybe Cody had misread what she meant when she said she would be looking for him but he wasn’t going to back down now, especially as Wolffe and Gregor gave him a thumbs up from their table. Kyra smiled a bit at that, maybe she should go easy on him.

“I’m only kidding, I know most of you have partners and aren’t like that. Although, sex is actually a great stress reliever.”

Too forward, too much. Someone kill her now. Kyra downed the rest of her whiskey and ordered two more.

“I think you’d like this stuff. If you don’t, hey. It’s a free drink.”

Cody took a sip of it, taking in the bitter somewhat smokey flavor of the liquor.

“It’s nice, thank you.” He said

“I’m not good with people. You put me in front of a broken ship or even building one, I’m spectacular but I can’t uh…I’m not the talker. I don’t talk to people well.” She admitted

“You don’t say.” Cody said, sarcasm laced heavily in his words.

Kyra blushed a bit at that, she wasn’t doing well with this at all. She opted for silence after and Cody hoped he didn’t offend her.

“I’m not much of a talker either.” He admitted.

“No?” She asked

He shook his head, “too much going on in my head. Sometimes I switch between Mando’a and basic without meaning to and one time, I accidentally insulted master Yoda. He was a Jedi about it but I still felt bad.” Cody sighed

“I insulted the Chancellor at a dinner once.” Kyra said, “to his face. It was an accident too. Kenobi really saved me from being arrested. Not that Thorn would have, not without me actually doing something illegal.”

“Have you ever been arrested?” He asked her.

Kyra faced him a little more now and he did the same to her, their knees bumping together going ignored by the two of them.

“I was held by the Corries for 1 night once. I accidentally stole a necklace but what happened was I was still kind of magnetic from an incident with one of the ships. Senators are dramatic and a necklace flew off of one of them onto me. Really, holding me was just a formality. I didn’t even go into a cell, I sat in Thorn’s office and played with Grizzer.”

“How did Fox let that slide?” He asked, taking another sip of whiskey.

“I’m friends with Kavra, she helped him take mercy on me. They should just shut up and date already. The world would be a happier place if people let go and let their feelings win sometimes.” She shrugged.

She was about to order another one, but Cody stopped her.

“Let’s get you some water and food first, okay? I know that hangovers during briefings are no fun.”

“Ah fuck, I have to sit in on that tomorrow?” She frowned

“Sorry.” He chuckled.

He ordered her water and something small to eat, Kyra watching him as he did so. He was in a black T-shirt and pants, no doubt the blacks from under their armor. He had various scars down his arms, but she noticed how toned his arms were and how long his fingers were. She shifted in her seat, clamping her thighs together.

“What?” He asked, noticing her watching.

She had to keep herself in check because it wasn’t polite to tell your sort of new friend you wanted them to choke you while railing you into next month. Kyra opted for a random fact that popped up in her mind, knowing it would divert the confused looking man from her semi-strange behavior.

“Some call you Commander Sunshine.” She said, smiling at him with teeth.

She had a small gap between her two front teeth and it lit up her whole face to smile. He felt his heart flip flop at that and couldn’t help his own smile.

“Why is that? I’ve been told I can be harsh on my men at times.”

Kyra vaguely gestured at him, as if that was answer enough and he laughed.

“Thank you for not clearing that up.” He said

“You’re welcome.” She smiled again.

After they both ate, continuing to talk, Kyra decided it was time to close her tab instead of keep drinking. The food seemed to sober her up a little bit and she knew a walk back in the cool air would help too. Cody insisted on walking her back to her apartment, it wasn’t far from here but he wasn’t going to take no for an answer on this. She was tipsy, he wasn’t going to leave her alone.

They walked in silence, enjoying the sounds around them as the cool air seemed to do the trick. It was a comfortable silence between the two of them and Kyra made a decision as they stopped outside of her apartment building.

“Did you want to come up for a cup of caf?”

Cody was a little startled by the question but said, “sure.” He followed her up, silently looking around the apartment while she went into the small kitchen. It was a little cluttered, lived in. Boots by the door, a jacket and scarf on a hook by the door. There was a couch with blankets draped in various spots and a data pad charging at a desk pressed against the wall in the corner. There was a small kitchen with barstools at an island instead of a table.

The counter top island had various jars and half drank cups of old caf on them. She had an easel set up too, tarp under it. A half painted bowl of fruit was on it, making him smile a bit. There was a small table in the middle of the room and another next to the couch, an end table. There was a helmet, beskar, but it seemed old. Worn, but not worn. The color of it a grey-blue mixture. Cody noticed there was a picture of a man with her by one of the lamps.

“I had a husband.” She said as she handed him the warm mug.

She was so quiet, he almost jumped out of his skin when she spoke. To sneak up on him was a feat many didn’t possess but he knew Kyra wasn’t going to harm him. Maybe.

“Had?” He asked

“He died. We had only been married for two years but it’s okay. It was an arrangement to bring our clans together, we were friends. Nothing more.”

“I’m still sorry.” He said

She nodded, “most people are.”

They both sipped their caf in silence. She sat on the couch and patted the spot next to her. Their legs touched again, silently enjoying the closeness but not admitting it.

“We should do this more.” She said suddenly.

“What?” He asked

“Hang out. Talk. Whatever this is.” She said, still not entirely sober but not entirely drunk either.

Cody brushed a strand of hair out of her face, the touch seeming to startle her. There was something slightly odd about the woman, anybody who spent more than 20 minutes with her could see it or sort of sense it. She seemed warm and kind, though, generally. The silences with her were comfortable, never tense or awkward. Eventually, Cody had fallen asleep on one side of the couch, Kyra falling asleep on the other. When she woke up, Cody was gone and it made her frown. She rather enjoyed his presence, she found, and it was sort of cold without him. She couldn’t explain it beyond that. There was a note taped to the fridge, the caf pot still warm to indicate he hadn’t left that long ago.

“Sorry if the caf is cold when you wake up, I didn’t want to bother you. See you at the meeting.”

Kriff. The meeting. She checked what time it was and saw she had an hour left to get ready and head over there. The caf would end up in a to-go mug after being microwaved due to waiting until after her shower. Her hair was down, air drying and she had on leggings and a tank top for now. She brought her data pad, just in case. She slid in next to Isla, maybe only 5 minutes late, and immediately felt a gaze on her.

Commander Cody, through his visor, staring right at her. She heard he hated tardiness and informalities, he was a proper commander after all. She smiled sheepishly at him before pulling up notes on her data pad. She paid very close attention, not noticing after a while that Cody seemed more interested in her than the meeting. You couldn’t really tell beyond the visor because it hid his face but Kenobi certainly noticed.

It was concern enough for the Jedi to pull Cody aside after the meeting, telling him he wished to speak to him in private. After everybody had filed out and it was only the two of them, Kenobi’s expression turned from friendly to very serious.

“I don’t know what your true relationship is with Kyra and it is not my business to pry in such matters, but you need to consider the relationship very carefully.” Kenobi said

Who was she that Obi-wan was warning him?

“We’re just friends, general. Nothing more.” Cody replied

“Even being her friend could lead to precarious situations. Her life is not as simple as it looks.”

How did Kenobi know all of that? Who or what was Kyra? The question seemed to entice him towards her more, sliding down to where she was working later in the day. She was with Aurora.

“So when is the wedding?” Kyra joked lightly.

“Shut up.” Aurora blushed

“Apologies, on interrupting.” Cody said as he approached.

“None needed, what brings you all the way down here?” Kyra asked

Ask her to dinner, for a drink. Kriff, she looked so beautiful in those leggings and tank top, her hair pulled up in a bun again out of her face. She had freckles across her nose and a few scars here and there down her arms and back.

“Cody?” She asked, tilting her head to the side slightly now.

He cleared his throat, “I need to speak with the General. I came looking for her.”

Why couldn’t he just ask this woman on a proper date? Cody was smooth, he could usually sweet talk his way into anybody’s bed but with Kyra he always found himself falling short.

“Well, I am done with her for now so I suppose you can borrow her. Only for a little while, commander.” She said, giving him that bright smile again.

“You should come to 79’s tonight.” He blurted out.

Yup. Smooth.

“Why is that?” She asked, looking amused still.

“You made a comment about the commanders and captains turning away bed warmers and I wanted to turn that jab into a bet.” He said

Something unreadable flashed through Kyra’s expression, there and gone in a second.

“Deal. I’ll be joining your table tonight then, warn the others.” She said

“Don’t you mean inform the others?” Aurora asked

“I didn’t stutter.” Kyra said before going back to working on repairs.

Maker, what had Cody gotten him and his vod into?

#star wars fanfiction #tcw fanfic #the clone auxiliary #mycomantic fics #ao3 writer #ao3 to tumblr

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