AN: Guess who just sent their first book off to agents! I'm gonna hang out in fanfic for a while as I wait to hear back. This should be around 6/7 chapters and since this is my first foray into this fandom I should warn you there will be much angst and feels! Comments are life and happy reading!

Two very important things happened then. Allison chose Vanya, and moved the gun beside her ear. She fired and threw it away behind her. The others fell to the ground in heaps, their lifeforces restoring as the brilliant white light withdrew into Vanya. A shimmering ripple hazed the air around her and her back arched – which is when Allison saved the world. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her sister, taking her weight and, purely coincidentally, holding her at an angle.

This would be too small a detail to note, were it not for the particularities of physics.

Because Allison held Vanya slumped in her arms, when the great beam of power shot upwards it hit the ceiling as well as the glass, and then missed the moon by half a degree – or three hundred kilometres.

The shockwave of its passage did rattle the moon two degrees off its axis, which would destroy the surfing industry for years to come and caused unexpected flooding in several low-lying areas, but everyone just assumed it was climate change and ignored the suitably outraged astrophysicists and hobby stargazers (several of whom thought their telescopes were misaligned).

The beam winked into the darkness, avoiding everything until it found Jupiter, but, being the forgiving gas giant it was, it allowed Vanya Hargreeves' power to thunder through it without harbouring any ill will toward its small blue sibling. (Although it did set in motion an electrical storm that would wreak untold chaos through the unreachable clouds for several hundred earthen millennia.)

oOo

Back on earth, Klaus crumpled to the ground at the same moment the Commission sent its second wave of masked assassins with gleaming red eyes. Winded and dazed, he wobbled to his feet and scrambled to join his sisters on stage, heart seizing as he took in Vanya's terrifying stillness. He looked to Ben, knowing he wouldn't have the strength to carry two dead siblings with him and hoping Ben couldn't see that truth in his eyes.

"Is she –?"

Allison nodded, and Klaus exhaled to his knees, relief rushing through him with all the dizzying speed of a high.

Which is when the roof started creaking and the guttural snarl of gunfire lit up the rear seats of the Icarus Theatre.

"Everybody get down!" Luther shouted, but there was no cover on stage. They were open and vulnerable as a stuck vein.

"We gotta get outta here!" Diego hollered at almost the same moment.

"There's no time!" Five screamed back, but Klaus was already moving. A chunk of ceiling splattered one of the attackers, a cloud of dust billowing at the end of the aisles while more rained down around them.

Klaus leapt nimbly off the stage and stood, feet apart, before the first rows of velvet-lined seats. He didn't bother telling his family to run. Even though this was the first time they might actually listen to him.

Instead he looked to Ben. The fear in his eyes was not for himself, but it hardened into resolve and he nodded at Klaus just as a deep, groaning crack resounded above them. Someone shouted again behind him but Klaus wasn't listening.

It was now or never.

He closed his eyes and reached for that stillness inside his mind, that instinctual moment of control he never knew existed. His hands were fists at his chest and in one movement he wrenched them apart and opened his eyes to the ethereal glow of his favourite brother standing before him. He could feel Ben with his mind, with a static tingle along his arms that thrummed and zinged in his hands.

Ben turned to face the oncoming attackers and thrust his chest out, unleashing the beast he had always hated. Two tentacles swept over the chairs, knocking three red-eyed killers to the ground. Two more reached for the ceiling, the dim blue glow illuminating the cobweb of cracks skittering along it. He braced, grunting with the effort as another section lost its fight with gravity.

The whole building was coming down.

oOo

Up on the stage, Five spared half a second to marvel at the sight. Then he yelled at Luther to grab Vanya and head for the rear exit, then jumped into space with the familiar tingling pressure. He rematerialized outside, in an alley half a block over. He ran along it, heart thumping almost painfully in his neck, then jumped to another alley. In the third, he found was he was looking for.

It took him seventy-three frustrating seconds to hotwire the window cleaning van parked in the shadows, and another two full minutes to navigate his way back to the Icarus, the seat pulled fully forward and his toes stretching to reach the pedals. As he drove, he saw a section of the ornate rooftop cave inwards.

He pushed the accelerator flush with the floor.

oOo

A bullet snapped its way through Ben's two attacking tentacles and bit hard into Klaus's shoulder. He flinched, jaw clenching as pain roared into being, and Ben flickered. The ceiling lurched and Klaus sucked in a burning breath and commanded his power back. Ben returned, instantly directing all tentacles to hold the roof, now mere feet above their heads. The masks advanced on Klaus, guns spitting endings at his family.

Which was a hell no.

Zoya Popova was the first to come to mind. She hobbled into the theatre, alight in gentle blue, nattering to herself in astonishment at the sight of Ben's true form. She brought the rest of Hazel and Cha-Cha's victims with her and they formed a shimmering blue wall between the men in gasmasks and the Hargreeves. Then the Vietnam dead took up the line, burying bullets and standing fast as they had in that godforsaken jungle.

"Klaus!" Diego yelled, his voice sounding far further away than it was. "Come on!"

"GO!" Klaus screamed back. "I can't hold it!"

The tingling along his skin had become a vicious, acidic burn. He was on fire, choking on smoke, the world engulfed in blue flames. Blood trickled from his ears and along his neck, oozed from his nose. It was tart and metallic on his tongue. He could feel every bullet thudding into the valiant dead, could feel the weight of the roof as it beat Ben down, one lost inch at a time. He could even feel the texture of the ceiling against Ben's tentacles. It was so much.

Far too much.

He couldn't tell who was screaming anymore but given the ache in his throat he assumed his voice must be adding to the clamour. The dead were shrieking, but for the first time in his life their wails weren't aimed at him. Their voices were raised alongside his, in defiance of the living hurling tiny pellets of death at them, their lifeless hearts ablaze with a new fire of purpose, of courage, of revenge. For the first time in his life, the dead were making Klaus Hargreeves smile. For the first time, he felt pride in his power.

The smile quickly turned to a grimace. Blood pulsed from his shoulder, sending a molten river down along his breast, trickling along his shaking arm. His heart pounded in his ears, almost drowning out the theatre's dying moans and the dead's wailing cries. The world shrank to that choking beat and the staccato pulses of the machine guns. He couldn't hear his family, didn't know if they had left or were still trapped on stage. He could barely feel Ben now, and the fire dancing along his skin was blazing to a higher pitch.

"Hold on Klaus!" Ben yelled, but he couldn't.

With a grunt no one else heard, Klaus fell to his knees. Dozens of dead winked out of existence. Every fibre of Klaus's being was focused, completely and utterly focused on holding Ben, and the roof, in place. More dead flickered and vanished, and the masks stalked closer, completely unperturbed by the ceiling pressing ever closer. Another battalion of soldiers faded like smoke and Klaus could hardly see, everything was shades of black and blue and smoke and dust. Ben yelled to him, probably something encouraging, but there was a ringing in his ears that stole the sound. It was probably linked to the burgeoning pain in his head, as though his skull was splitting along his thought lines. Darkness sucked at his mind, his limbs, his shoulders, whispering sweet promises of rest and silence, of blessed numbness, but he held on to whatever strength was fuelling him. He needed to save his family. He needed to do something good, something that mattered.

Even if it killed him.

oOo

Diego grabbed Allison's hips and all but threw her forward as another chunk of ceiling crashed into the ground where she had stumbled. Luther was running, bent low over Vanya's limp form. The theatre rained down on them but thanks to Klaus they could weather the worst of it. Diego hesitated as his siblings sprinted through the hallway to the fire exit. Five was backing a van right up to the door, the thin metal ceiling singing a discordant tune as rock tumbled over it, denting and scratching it without mercy.

He looked back to Klaus. He could only see a sliver of him through the hallway and door, but it was enough. Only a few ghosts remained and as he watched, two more flickered and disappeared. Diego whipped four knives out of their holsters and guided them through the hall and into the glowing red eyes of four attackers. Three crumpled instantly, the fourth fell backwards with his finger on the trigger and a platoon of bullets chattered into the ceiling. Ben's ghost mirrored Klaus, falling to his knees as another, far bigger section of the roof thundered down onto the seats. All other ghosts vanished, save a single soldier who turned away from the few remaining mercenaries and walked calmly towards Klaus, carefully shielding him with his body, unflinchingly accepting bullet after bullet in his back.

Klaus was flagging. He and Ben were all that kept the building from being razed but the effort was sucking all colour from his skin. His blue-wreathed fists shook so hard the light shimmered and Diego knew, with complete certainty, that the second Klaus's strength failed, the very moment he released his power, the roof would collapse. Icy realisation sank in his gut. He was too far away. There was no time.

He couldn't save Klaus.

oOo

The world was blue and smoke and pain and burning. Ben was slipping away from him and Klaus held on all the tighter. His lungs stung. His throat burned. His skin was alight with lightning that sunk razor fangs into his every muscle even as it slowly faded away. The ceiling inched lower, then gained a foot, then another.

Someone was standing above him, someone bathed in a blue glow that illuminated their helmet, their uniform. Their face.

He knelt in front of Klaus, smiling with such pride, such naked love, Klaus almost lost his grip on his power. The ghost leaned closer, reaching one hand to Klaus's cheek and that amazing smile widened. For half a heartbeat, Klaus didn't feel the crushing weight or the stabbing bullets biting into his conjures. He didn't even feel the pain.

"Dave," he half-whispered, half-wept. He forced himself to concentrate, to take in every detail of that perfect face, those wonderful, wonderful eyes. Eyes that saw every part of Klaus and kept on looking. Eyes that shone with laughter and through fear, that had been the first true solace Klaus had ever known outside a needle.

Dave didn't speak. He just smiled and wiped a tear from Klaus's cheek. He leant closer and kissed Klaus, slow and sweet and perfect. The deep aching fissure that had rent his heart apart filled with the balm of that kiss and Klaus tightened his fists. The contact became more real, warmer, without the ghostly tingle and for one long, incredible moment, he was home.

And then it shattered. Ben cried out as the theatre crumbled around them. Two knives flashed through the air but Klaus didn't see where they landed. His gaze was fixed on the love of his life, blurred though he was by tears.

"Don't go," he whimpered. "Please don't leave me."

Dave only smiled.

oOo

Diego was not going to lose someone else. He was not losing Klaus.

Knives cartwheeled through the air in dazzling silver, dropping attackers as he ran back through the theatre. The soldier was covering Klaus, kissing him with a tenderness Diego could feel even through the chaos eroding the world. Ben was a far fainter blue than he had been a minute ago, as was the glow around Klaus's fists. The muscles in his arms looked all the more severe in the waning light, shadows eroding his thin frame. Diego opened his mouth to yell that he was coming, when a giant arm wrapped around his middle and his feet lost contact with the ground.

"What are you doing?" he howled up at Luther as he dragged him away from their brother.

"I'm not losing you both," Luther growled, his other arm shielding their heads from falling debris.

Diego writhed in his grip but one arm was trapped at his side and the other couldn't reach any of his remaining blades. He settled for punching every part of Luther he could reach with all the strength he could muster.

"I'm not leaving him!"

"Yes you are!" Diego's legs swung as Luther barrelled around a corner. "He's giving us a shot and you're not throwing that away!"

"You s-s-selfish s-s-s-son of a b-b-b–"

He couldn't even get the words out. He twisted in Luther's grip, barely able to breathe under the pressure, and caught a final glimpse of the scene in the theatre, just in time to see Ben falter and vanish with a desperate cry for Klaus to run! Diego's stomach lurched as the ceiling fell and the last thing he saw before Luther threw him into the back of the van was Klaus – skinny, annoying, heartfelt Klaus – collapsing onto his back, the blue light fading from his hands just as the soldier threw his body over him. Then the debris sent an explosion of dust billowing through the passageways, Allison yanked the van doors closed, and Five rammed the accelerator to the floor.

AN: And yes, I stole the chapter title from the Max Ride book.