Author's Note: Welcome everyone! This begins immediately after season 1 and continues on with the whole apocalypse prevention, which will likely go about as smoothly as it did on their first try. If there are any specific warnings, they'll be posted for the chapters they relate to. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)

Disclaimer: Yeah... I don't own this stuff.

PREMISE: The Umbrella Academy is back in the past with a world that still needs saving and a plan that Five insists will require "delicate handling" and "subtlety". Klaus thinks of all the smashed buildings, plane crashes, bombings, derailed trains, out of control fires, bridge collapses, explosions, shootings, and general mayhem his family has been involved in and laughs.

Chapter 1

"We fucked up bigger and better than

any other generation that came before us.

We were so BEAUTIFUL!"

– Nathan Young, Misfits

Blue. Blue light everywhere, even with his eyes closed. How long was this going to take? At least the sounds of apocalyptic destruction were fading - that had to be a good sign.

A sudden, soundless jarring, and Klaus found himself thrown to the ground.

"And just what do you think you are doing, children?" the familiar angry tones of an old and uptight man assaulted Klaus's ears the moment Number Five's weird glowy thing dissipated and dumped them… well, he didn't really know where it had dumped them yet. But he held a strong suspicion - Klaus would recognize that disappointed voice anywhere.

A quick glance around confirmed it - the Hargreeves had been deposited unceremoniously in the great room of the mansion that Vanya (Number Seven?) had done a most commendable job of flattening. A double-take immediately told Klaus he was now surrounded by children - a situation he typically avoided at all costs. His sluggish brain, still unused to actually being expected to think, took a panicked moment to put together that he was sprawled among the childhood versions of his siblings. It was another moment after that before he worked up the courage to glance down at himself to check and see that, yes, he too was now a scrawny preteen.

"Noooooooo," he moaned, flinging himself onto his face with a spike of righteous indignation. "I've already been through puberty, I'm done, I have the awkward stories, ugh…"

Klaus felt more than saw the exasperated looks of his siblings. And oh, maybe they were all planning on keeping their mouths shut or something until they figured things out. Well that was fine, it wasn't like his father was going to think deeply about anything he said.

Proving his point, the next words out of Sir Reginald Hargreeves' mouth bore no connection to what he'd just said. "If you are not all in bed within the next five minutes, there will be consequences." When Klaus rolled over a bit, the old man himself was glaring down at them all from halfway up the nearest staircase, leaning on his cane and looking much like the unimpressed father figure of Klaus's youth.

Exactly like the father figure from his youth. Ah, the fond memories that stirred up - getting locked in a mausoleum, fighting crime, getting locked in a mausoleum again, creatively solving his problems - oh wait, that was with drugs. Yes, how could he forget that milestone! Klaus made an excellent effort to conceal a burst of hysteric giggling.

Around him, his siblings were rising, beginning to follow their father's demands, so Klaus joined them. It certainly felt easy, natural even, to fall back into the pattern of obeying Dad's orders. Well, okay, not that he'd ever been particularly good at following the rules. But it was almost nice to be told and expected to do something, to have an authority figure Klaus could pretend knew what he was doing and would fix everything.

As he swung himself to his feet, he noticed that, for the first time in longer than he cared to admit, he didn't feel the least bit dizzy. Hmm, that was a nice change. And while he was being observant, Klaus also spotted a tiny and seemingly alive Ben among the pack, wearing an expression so hopeful it was hard to look at. And there near the back was Luther, attempting to surreptitiously half-carry a definitely unconscious Vanya. Klaus raised his eyebrows, because if that wasn't suspicious…

But there was no need to worry - a glance behind told him that Sir Reginald Hargreeves had had enough of their shenanigans for the night and was making his way back up the stairs, probably to his study. Klaus was a little shocked he'd even left it in the first place.

Once he was gone, there were some furtive hand motions - some ruder than others, Klaus proudly took credit for most of those - before the full set of Hargreeves children made their way to their rooms in silence. In the hallway where they normally would have split off into their respective bedrooms, they came to a halt in a rough circle.

"Alright," Luther began, still supporting Vanya. "Five, what is this? Where - no, when are we?"

Even in the near-darkness, no one needed to see his face to picture Number Five's look of long-suffering superiority. "I would think that was obvious." He sounded a bit out of breath, and Klaus considered that maybe it was difficult to move seven people through space and time.

"Tell us anyway. So there's no confusion." How was Luther still so tall? He nearly blocked out the dim night light plugged in behind him. Klaus had looked less intimidating at thirty than Luther did at thirteen.

He was not jealous.

Five sighed. "I've transported us back seventeen years - before I originally left." There was a pause. "And it looks like your consciousnesses found and merged with your existences in this plane of time, hence your… current bodies."

"About that," Klaus raised a hand that no one could see, stepping into the center of the circle. "As much as I love little adorable us, isn't there anything you can do about that, my man? You know, switch us back, let everyone see how... fast we've grown up?" He gave a little chuckle at that. "Dad would be so proud!"

"Imagine, being stuck in the body of a thirteen year old." The deadpan statement was not an answer, and Klaus was about to push him further when Ben spoke up.

"So what happened to the original us then? Are we… did we just replace them?" There was a brief silence, and Klaus wondered if this was everyone else noticing Ben's presence for the first time. Also, he couldn't help being immensely pleased that Ben had still chosen to stand beside him, the same place he'd been for years.

Well then again, it was dark; he might not have even realized. But Klaus was going to be optimistic.

"There is no original you," Five explained. "There's just you, right now. You're as much yourself as you were in seventeen years."

"Not that there's much of you there, eh Benny boy?" Klaus laughed and, because he could, threw an arm around the shorter boy's shoulder. Then gave him a noogie for good measure.

There was a choked sob from across the circle, then something warm crashed into Ben, disentangling him from Klaus. "Ben!" Allison sounded on the verge of tears. Klaus would know; he'd done a lot of crying recently.

After that there was a good five minutes of hugging Ben and general rejoicing over the fact that he wasn't dead. Klaus was extremely interested to know who was shedding tears at this reunion, but the dim lighting prevented him from making out anything other than vague shapes.

Well, Ben's presence wasn't knew to him. And he really had to pee. Klaus somewhat delicately slipped around the hulking shadows of his emotional siblings towards the shared bathroom and relief.

Maybe he could take a bath now too? Klaus took to the idea immediately - it had been hours since his last almost-relaxing soak. He'd begun running the water and was halfway through slipping off his trousers when a hand on his shoulder nearly gave him a heart attack.

Instead, it just made him whip halfway around, catch his feet on his pants, and topple over backwards into the half-filled tub.

He emerged sputtering and splashing perhaps a bit more than necessary to hear Diego's angry whisper. "Honestly, Klaus, what are you -"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Klaus gasped. "You wanted in too - here, let me move over, there's plenty of room -"

Muffled cursing and much splashing ensued as Diego attempted to evade the soaked limbs trying to grab hold of him. Both goals were complicated by the near darkness, only a dim glow filtering in through the window.

"You idiots are going to wake Dad, what are you - Klaus!" Luther's whispering skills seemed to be at about the same pathetic level as Klaus's driving skills.

Casting a critical eye over the looming shadow in the doorway, Klaus whispered, "Too late big guy, this bath is about to be at its capacity..."

"Ugh," Diego huffed, finally able to withdraw to a safe distance.

In a move that Klaus would admit was remarkably childish, even for him, he waited for Luther to take a breath to speak again before hurriedly plunging his head underwater.

Ahhh. Silence. And darkness. And wait… was that - oh crap crap crap he was sober it was starting -

His panicking slammed to a halt (to be resumed later) as Klaus found himself hauled dripping into the air by his ankle. Klaus felt completely justified in engaging in some undignified squawking - at least until a hand was placed firmly over his mouth.

"Stop." Luther's impatient voice at the upside down level of his chest. "Look, both of you - I just wanted you to know what the plan is. We wait until Vanya wakes up, find out what state of mind she's in, and go from there. Five's staying with her for now, but we'll have someone watching her at all times." When he spoke again, his voice was lower. "... Who knows what she might be capable of." Reminding them all that they really had just escaped an actual apocalypse that really had been caused by the sibling Klaus viewed as least likely to kill billions of people. "We're not telling Dad or anyone yet." There was something… regretful in his voice at the last part that was a painful reminder once again that Luther had always been the favourite.

Or at least that's how it had looked… but then again, high and rebellious Luther would be imprinted in Klaus's mind for a long time.

"So what, we're just going to pretend to be thirteen year old us?" Diego, who's entire life was devoted to facing crime head on, sounded vaguely affronted by such indirect methods.

"At least for now, until we understand our situation a little better." Luther breathed in deeply. Talking to his brothers always seemed to take a lot out of him. "Look, I know it's… weird. But I think it's doable. And I know it's late to say this, but… I've had enough of rushing into things. Especially when I don't know what's going on."

Several seconds of silence greeted that statement during which Klaus considered whether Number Five's time travel thing had gone horrifically wrong and he'd wound up dead again, because Luther's words sounded frighteningly close to admitting he'd been wrong.

"...Dad never really did pay much attention to us. At least, not where our powers weren't involved," Diego said finally, carefully. "You're right about that - playing us should be easy." It seemed Luther's confession had taken the heat out of his interrogation for now.

Luther snorted in agreement. "Yeah… especially for those of us who never grew up." Even in the dark, Klaus had no problem identifying who Luther was looking at. He snorted himself, only partially due to the water up his nose.

"Hey, hey - you're just jealous of my youthful energy. And," it was difficult to put his arm around Luther while hanging upside down, but Klaus persevered, " and, what about that delayed episode of teenage rebellion I witnessed -" Klaus was promptly lowered back into the water.

For the second time that night, he resurfaced amidst unnecessary splashing and swearing. Luther was gone; his receding footsteps marked him as already halfway down the hall.

Diego cleared his throat, reminding Klaus that he still wasn't alone. The attentive look he assumed in response was probably wasted in the dim room, but it made Klaus feel more polite.

"Klaus…" Diego began. "I just wanted to say. Back there, with your p-power-"

Sensing a reprimand, Klaus jumped to defend himself from… whatever it was Diego was trying to say. "Oh, that!" And stopped. "I… can explain?"

"What?"

… he probably should have let Diego finish first.

"What?" he echoed.

There was a moment of silence during which Klaus felt Diego's bewildered stare.

"...I'm not high," Klaus said defensively.

Another beat, and Klaus heard Diego sigh. "I know."

Well, that exhausted Klaus's list of things he usually got called out for. That wasn't true at all - but it was the only one he would willingly drag up again.

"Look," Diego tried again, and this time Klaus made a more successful effort to contain himself. "What I'm trying to say is, what you did during the apocalypse - bringing B-Be-," a hiss as Diego worked to control his speech, "Ben back… I know it's not easy for you. This. Being sober. But that was incredible. And," Diego cleared his throat, "just… good job."

What.

A couple seconds of stunned silence seemed in order, plus a couple more for the shit-eating grin to finish stretching over Klaus's face. Then, "Why, Diego!" Klaus gushed with every inch of effusiveness he possessed. "I'm so glad you appreciate my talents. You know, for having such a prick for a father-figure, you turned out so, so - touching." Klaus launched himself partway out of the tub to latch onto Diego's arm like a crocodile lunging for its prey, spraying a glorious amount of water over his brother.

"Ack!" Diego squawked gratifyingly before managing to shake him off. There was a frustrated-sounding exhale to regain his composure, then a, "Goodnight, Klaus," before he was walking away.

"No, come back!" Klaus called after him. "Be the loving Dad I never had..." he stage whispered, sinking back into the water.

There was a noise that Klaus chose to believe signified amusement before Diego turned the corner, and Klaus was rid of his siblings at last. (Whispers began in his mind, and was he ever really alone?)

Sighing loudly, Klaus set to work on relaxing, beginning with reclining and kicking his feet over the edge. The last part had been much easier when he was taller…

Good job. The corners of his mouth still tilted upwards, Klaus let out a burst of laughter. Oh yes, he was going to bask in those words for a very long time.

And he did. Or at least for a blissful ten minutes.

But then, as always, the peacefulness was intruded upon by the dead. Because oh yeah, he really was sober this time. Faint at first, yet growing steadily in intensity and clarity, whispering in the periphery of his mind so distinctly other that there was never a chance of misattributing it.

A too-familiar cycle began to repeat itself, scenes from a different (terrible) time, a different (darker) place unfolding around him and he was there, had he ever really left-

Don't look afraid. Stop it. Don't look afraid or he won't let you out. Stop crying, please, stop crying-

And he really was back again this time, wasn't he? Back in his thirteen year old body, under the care (authority) of one Sir Reginald Hargreeves, trying desperately to remember what stage of his "training" he'd been in all those years ago-

KLAUS - it was a scream, they were all screaming, and so was he. He didn't even know if he was forming words, just that he wanted someone to save him, to let him out, LET HIM OUT-

"Klaus."

Anyone.

A hand on his arm. As though a switch had been flipped, Klaus found himself in the bathroom again, sitting in the dark as the water cooled around him. And no longer alone.

A small shape crouched over him, just a silhouette in the dim room, but Klaus didn't need light to know who was with him. Only one person in this house would willingly seek him out.

"You weren't in your room," Ben said quietly.

"Don't tell on me," whispered Klaus, pulling himself slowly back together. His fingers, sore from his deathgrip on the edges of the tub, he flexed carefully before dragging himself into a sitting position.

Floorboards creaked as Ben moved across the room, then returned to shove something soft into Klaus' face. "Pfftttttt - ack," he spat eloquently, reaching up to remove the offending object and finding a towel.

"Sorry, sorry," Ben said hurriedly, "It's so dark-"

"You know," Klaus interrupted, "This seems like the headline of an awesome murder story - 'Failed medium, choked to death with towel by dead brother," a pause while he spread his hands dramatically, the action probably going unseen in the dark, "...in bathtub'."

Ben laughed a little. "You know, most of those things aren't true anymore."

"What, you've decided not to kill me? Ben, I'm flattered."

A snicker, then silence for a moment, as they both thought about everything else in that sentence, before finally, "Get out of the tub before I change my mind."

Klaus was only too happy to comply. Once no longer soaking, he forewent the restrictive uniform lying crumpled in a heap and instead wrapped the towel around his waist before announcing he was ready.

Together they slipped out into the deserted hall and padded their way to their rooms, Klaus hesitating only upon reaching their destination. Because he didn't want to be alone, now more than ever. Had always hated it, even when that thinking put him in terrible situations.

He wanted Ben to stay. Well, Klaus had never been subtle, and he opened his mouth to make his request, but Ben beat him to it.

"I don't think I'll sleep tonight," Ben announced, and the darkness hid the grin that began spreading on Klaus' face, "I'm not tired at all. Being alive and everything - this feels so good. I don't…. I don't want to miss any of it right now."

Whether Ben was just saying this to give him an opening or if he actually felt that way Klaus didn't know, but he'd take whatever he could get. "Well, I happen to have a position open for not-sleeping with me, if you're interested," Klaus swung open the door to his room in one exaggerated motion. "You're not usually my type, but-"

A shove from Ben sent him stumbling, laughing, through the doorway. "Why do you do this to me," groaned Ben, but he'd followed him into the room.

"Ah, come on, it'll be fun," said Klaus, getting enthusiastic about the whole matter. "We can have a sleepover, just like old times - we're even our authentic sizes!"

By unspoken agreement, the light was never turned on. Instead, both boys stumbled around in the blackness for several minutes, determining the layout of the room through trial and error and many banged shins. Eventually, they managed to locate the bed - which had been lurking sneakily in a darkened corner - and settled themselves on top of it.

It was Ben who broke the companionable silence that had descended over them. "Thanks."

Klaus thought about this for a moment, particularly about what it was for. Then, "Thanks," he returned. Another pause, and, "Though we can discuss how exactly you can pay me back lat-"

A pillow smacked solidly across the smile on Klaus' face. "Okay, okay, but do you think today is now your new birthday?" he queried, never questioning the haphazard directions his abused mind took him in. Although the mischief in his posture went unnoticed in the dark, his voice dripped with it. "Because if it is, I think that deserves some brotherly affection..."

With this, Klaus launched himself in the general direction the pillow had come from, smashing his head against Ben's collar bone yet still ending up in an almost-hug. Wow, being able to actually touch Ben wasn't going to get old for a good long time. Possibly never.

Ben began to return the gesture, but then, horrified, "KLAUS, are you naked?"

The house echoed with laughter and Ben's sharp retort, and they fell into familiar bickering - a pattern that continued the rest of the night.

It wasn't until much later on that Klaus found himself thinking about how this was his chance. To save the world, sure, but maybe himself a little bit too. Because it was becoming hard to ignore the steadily growing itch in the back of his mind - a craving he knew could reach a depth that terrified him (but never as much as they terrified him), as his mind demanded the help he'd always been quick to give it before. A help Klaus was fairly sure his current body, at least, should no longer need.

Only… if that was true, why could he still feel his hands shaking? The thought made his stomach a little sick, and he optimistically attributed his cold sweat to worry as he frantically tried to recall when he'd begun self-medicating to heavily suppress his powers. But that was a difficult task, as years of taking a vacation from his mind had made his memories… fewer than there should have been. He was thirteen though, surely he hadn't gone to a dealer - so Dad's alcohol, maybe. But enough to put him through withdrawal?

Klaus didn't do well with withdrawal. The last few times he'd managed to stick it out - if one could call it that - were when he'd been kidnapped, had a particularly bad month in Vietnam, and then tried to save an angst-ridden gorilla-man from himself (and there was something about that night, something he was forgetting...). But he wanted to get better, needed to if he was ever going to move past being the family failure, if he wanted to help prevent the apocalypse, if he wanted to see Dave again (he needed to see Dave again), maybe even find out what dear old Dad had meant about "reaching his potential".

And then there was the other thing. Ben's company, while a welcome and familiar distraction for which Klaus was deeply grateful, could not completely take his mind off his restored abilities, and what it would mean. He knew that no person could shield him from his own power.

There was something moving up and down the hall. Something slow, shuffling and muttering; he didn't breathe each time it passed the door. If it came in, Klaus knew he'd be facing it by himself - a thought that made him feel more alone than he'd felt since Ben's death. (And didn't he feel guilty, regretting Ben's resurrection...) Only when the sun was nearly ready to rise did Klaus finally fall asleep.

He dreamed of war, with its guns and screams and bombs and a beautiful dead boy.