3

"Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away."

The house was quiet enough that Reagan could hear Klaus' snores coming from the living room once she walked through the front door. She was glad that he was fast asleep, though. If he hadn't been, she most likely would have marched in there and unloaded everything she'd just learned from Five. It definitely would have been for naught, telling her most unstable sibling about the looming apocalypse, but she wanted to tell someone. Then maybe it would feel real instead of just another conjuring of her abilities.

"Where have you been?"

She pivoted on the heels of her boots to face Luther and lifted her shoulders in a half-shrug. "I went for a walk."

Technically, it wasn't a lie. When Five decided to stop by Vanya's apartment after their donut shop visit, Reagan opted to walk the rest of the way home. It gave her a chance to get her mind off what had happened in the last few hours.

Her brother quirked an eyebrow. "For four hours?"

"Three and a half," Reagan corrected, shifting her weight as she clasped her hands in front of her. The cuts on her palms were still fresh and she didn't need Luther questioning her about them.

Her brother stepped toward her before asking, "Are you okay?"

She dismissed his question with a wave of her hand. "I'm fine, Spaceboy. I just need to get some sleep."

He caught her by her arm when she started to walk past him toward the stairs. She winced before she could stop herself, quickly remembering how hard she'd landed on her shoulder back at the donut shop when she jumped over the counter.

Luther let go of her arm. "What's wrong? Did I grab you too hard?"

Reagan shook her head, resisting the urge to touch the sore area. "No. I—I slipped when I was on my walk. My shoulder just caught the brunt of the fall."

"Oh, ok," Luther said, but the concern in his expression didn't fade. He jerked his thumb toward the stairs. "I was just going to ask you if you've talked to Diego. His stuff is gone."

"I talked to him earlier. He said he was going back home. He didn't say goodbye?"

"We're not exactly on the best terms right now."

Reagan laughed under her breath. "Well, he's probably still angry that you implied he might have killed dad."

"I didn't—"

She put a hand on his arm, giving it a light squeeze. "I know, but this is Diego we're talking about. He likes to hold a grudge. Just give him a couple days."

"And what about you? Are you angry?" Luther asked.

"You had the most functional relationship with dad so it's understandable why you'd try to rationalize his death. You definitely didn't breach the topic the best way, but I'm not mad," Reagan said.

Luther rubbed his hands against his thighs as he rocked back and forth on his heels. "Just so you know, I never thought you could've done it, Reg."

"Really? What convinced you? Was it because you thought I wasn't capable of killing our dad? Or because I was over an hour away when it happened?" She continued quickly, only leaving her brother gaping at her for a moment. "That was a joke, Luther. I'm sure even if I was in town when he died, you still wouldn't think I did it."

"I wouldn't have," Luther said with a firm nod.

Reagan smiled as she gestured over her shoulder, slowly backing up to the stairs. "I'm gonna shower and try to get some sleep, but we can track down Diego tomorrow if you want."

Luther smiled back at her. "I'd appreciate that."

Reagan woke to someone shaking her arm. Letting out a quiet groan, she rolled onto her back and opened her eyes just enough to make out a dark shape standing over her. She pressed her fingers to her eyes, rubbing away the fatigue. When she opened them again she realized it was Five who had woken her.

"What time is it?"

He stepped away, his gaze drifting around to the small alarm clock on her nightstand. Five shrugged when he faced her again. "Early."

She propped herself up on her elbows and arched a brow. "How early?"

"Six."

"Jesus Christ," Reagan growled as she dropped back down on her bed and pulled the comforter over her head. "I need sleep to function, Five. I'm talking more than three hours here."

She let out a string of profanities when the blanket was yanked off her.

"We don't have that kind of time," her brother said.

Sitting up, she fixed her gaze on her brother in an unrelenting glare. "You're lucky I love you."

Five shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered toward her desk. "Yeah, that's exactly how I'd describe my life so far: lucky."

Ignoring her brother, Reagan stood from her bed and ran her fingers through her hair to tame any stray curls. "Please, tell me there's a good reason you woke me up this early."

Her brother stood up a little straighter as he peered over at her. "I need you to do something for me."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that much," Reagan retorted. "What exactly do you need me to do?"

"Be my mom," Five said, his lips spreading into a wide smile. "Please?"

"That's his current address," Reagan said, pointing to the paper she'd just handed Luther. "He might not be there, but he's usually okay with me waiting until he gets back."

"But that's you," Luther reminded her. "You could probably trash his room and he'd say thank you."

Reagan rolled her eyes at her brother's joke.

"He's not going to stab you, if that's what you're worried about. At least not on accident." She continued before Luther could get a word in. "If I finish this errand early, I'll meet you there, okay?"

Folding the paper in his hands, Luther put it in his pocket and bobbed his head. "Where are you going, anyways?"

"It's not important," Reagan said, leaning back against his door. "What is important is that you remember I said."

His eyes narrowed to slits. "I know how to apologize, Reg."

She smirked before turning to leave, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Of course you do, Spaceboy."

Reagan only got to the top of the stairs before Klaus cut her off. Frustration crinkled her eyes as she put a hand on her hip. "What do you want?"

Klaus' body stiffened at the question. His shoulders slumped as his nose wrinkled. "Why is it that every time I talk to you, you think I want something?"

"Because I know you," Reagan said, arching a sly brow.

With a huff, he squinted at her. "Fine, Reg, you caught me again. I need money."

His sister snorted at the thought. "For drugs?"

"No," Klaus said.

"Yes."

Reagan glanced over her shoulder when she recognized the voice coming from behind her. Leaning against one of the wooden railings was Ben. His gaze stayed locked on the book in his hand moment longer, but he smiled when he peered up at Reagan. She returned it before looking back at Klaus.

"In case you forgot, it's almost impossible to hide things from me," Reagan said. She jerked her head toward her Ben. "Even without his help."

"Traitor," Klaus said, glancing at where Ben was standing.

"Listen, Klaus, I get why you do the things you do, but I'm not going to personally fund your drug habit," Reagan explained.

"Yes, you are."

Whirling around, Reagan wasn't surprised to find that Five had joined them. Her jaw clenched with contempt. "What are you talking about?"

She could read his answer in the air around him before it formed on his lips, but she needed to hear him say it this time.

"We're going to bribe him to do something for us," Five said. "Or rather you are since I'm currently thirteen years old and completely broke."

Reagan's eyes rolled skyward as she expelled a slow breath. Looking back at her brother, she pressed her lips into a taught line. "You can't be serious. You know what he's going to use that money for."

Five shrugged. "We have more important things to worry about than our brother slowly killing himself."

"Woah, woah, woah," Klaus said, stepping up beside Reagan. "I thought this was headed in a positive direction until you started talking about death."

"Klaus…" his sister warned as she shot him a look. He raised his hands weakly, feigning surrender and fell back a step. Reagan folded her arms over her chest as she directed her attention to Five again. "What do you want him to do exactly?"

"Be my dad."

"I thought I was—"

"You are and so is he," Five said, pointing to their brother. "We stand a better chance of getting the information I need if we go in there looking like the average American family."

Reagan's brow furrowed in confusion as she gestured between her and Klaus. "And you think we'd look like the average American family?"

"It's better than nothing."

"You're serious," Reagan realized aloud.

"As the plague," Five murmured before he turned his gaze on Klaus. "Come on. We need to make you… presentable."

"Ah, ah, ah," Klaus said, waving a finger at him. "First, we need to discuss my price."

Reagan lifted her arm to elbow him. She jerked her head toward Five when he looked at her. "Just go, Klaus. I'll make sure you have enough money."

She folded her arms over her chest as she watched her brothers head to the back of the house where their bedrooms were.

"This isn't a good idea," Ben said as he appeared in the spot beside her.

"I know," she agreed with a sigh. "But Five's right. We have bigger things to worry about than Klaus' sobriety."

"What does that—"

Reagan turned her head when Ben's sentence got cut off only to see that he'd disappeared, which meant Klaus was far enough to break her connection to his consciousness. She let out a heavy breath as she ran her hands over her face, raking her fingers through her hair. Rolling her head back on her shoulders, she stared at the ceiling for an elongated moment.

"You lucky bastard," Reagan mumbled, hoping her father could hear every thought running through her head.

Klaus shot up from the steps outside of Meritech Prosthetics the moment Five finished going over his plan. He clapped his hands and gestured to the tall building behind them, his lips curled into a devious grin. "Great. Let's get to it so I can get paid."

Reagan put her hands on her hips as she turned to Five. "Tell me again why you thought bringing him was a good idea."

"I haven't decided it was yet," Five said. He walked up the steps to follow Klaus into the building, but turned when he reached the door, pulling it open and gesturing inside. "But I'm sure we're about to find out."

She relented with a toss of her eyes and entered the building with her brothers. Once they stepped out of the elevator onto the right floor, Klaus grabbed Reagan's hand. He tightened his grip when she tried to pull it away.

"Can't we put our differences aside for now, Reagan?" Klaus stared at her with wide eyes as he tilted his head in Five's direction and jutted out his lower lip in a pout. "For the child…"

Reagan scoffed quietly, but didn't try to pull her hand away again. It wasn't the hand-holding that was bothering her anyways. Knowing that at the end of their little errand, she'd have to pay Klaus for his help was. It was one thing to tolerate her brother's addiction, but funding it, even one time, was something that Reagan swore she'd never do. Now, she was breaking that promise and she couldn't find a way to convince herself that it would be worth it in the end.

Refocusing on their mission, she was relieved to discover how easy it was to get into Mr. Biggs' office. All it took was a simple apology for their "son's" behavior and a small bribe, which of course came from her wallet. Reagan opted to stay by the door while Klaus and Five took the chairs in front of the desk. Folding her arms over her chest, she relaxed against the table behind her. She focused on the man sitting behind the desk to see where his head was at as Five and Klaus tried to convince him to reveal who owned the eye.

He seemed to lose patience after a few minutes. Clasping his hands over his stomach, he looked between from Klaus to Reagan. "Like I said to your son earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential. Without the client's consent, I simply can't help you."

"Well, we can't get consent if you don't give us a name," Five said, hunching his shoulders to brace his hands against the desk. Mr. Biggs gave a careless shrug.

"Well, that's not my problem. Sorry." Motioning to the door, he continued, "Now, there's really nothing more I can do so—"

"And what about my consent?" Klaus asked, shifting in his seat. Reagan's eyes narrowed as she sorted through the thoughts appearing above his head.

"Excuse me?" The man asked, the wrinkles by his eyes expressing his confusion.

"Who gave you permission…" Klaus voice dropped to a whimper "…to lay your hands on my son?"

"Oh, my God," Reagan murmured under her breath when she caught a glimpse of what Klaus was planning to do next.

"I didn't touch your son."

"Oh, really?" Klaus uncrossed his legs to lean forward. "Well, then how did he get that swollen lip?"

Reagan drew in a long breath, letting it out in a huff when Klaus stood from his seat and angled his body toward five. Like most people, her brother had thought ahead, alerting her to every move he was about to make.

Mr. Biggs glanced at the three siblings. "He doesn't have a swollen—"

At that moment, Klaus cocked his arm and punched Five across the face. Reagan flinched at the sound of the impact. She pushed herself away from the desk and went to Five's side as he recovered from the sucker punch. She placed a hand under his chin, angling his face toward the light to get a better look at his bloody lip. After giving him a tiny shake of her head to tell him it didn't look too bad, she faced Mr. Biggs.

"I want it. Name, please," Klaus said as he propped himself up against the desk. "Now."

"Are you going to let him do that to your son?" The man asked, sliding his gaze to Reagan.

She slung an arm over Five's shoulders, a smile dangling on the corner of her lips. "I trust my husband to do what's best for our family."

"You're crazy."

"You got no idea." Klaus drummed his fingers against the desk, bowing his head to look at the snow globe sitting there.

A lump formed in Reagan's throat when she noticed the new ideas that were running through her brother's mind. Klaus could always be a bit reckless, but if he went through with what she was seeing, it would be a new low… or high. He picked up the globe and turned it over in his hand to read the print on the front just as she refocused her attention on what he was saying.

"'Peace on earth.' That's so sweet," Klaus sighed a moment before jerking the globe toward his face. Reagan's hand shot out at the last second and caught him by the wrists. She kept her hand there, but turned to look back at Mr. Biggs.

She cleared her throat. "Mr. Biggs, my husband is about 5 seconds from smashing that globe over his head to support the fact that you beat the shit out of him and my son, which I will gladly testify to."

The older man gaped at her for a moment, his jaw opening and closing as he struggled to find words. "They—they'd never believe you."

Reagan lifted her chin confidently, placing a hand on her hip. "Well, the blood would be enough to convince anyone. Throw in three eyewitness testimonies, you'd be on the way to the city prison by the end of the day. But honestly, it wouldn't matter if they did."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm sure you can tell that my husband's slightly unhinged, but I'm not. I'm completely sane…" Reagan paused to hold up her free hand, tightening it into a fist. When she uncurled her fingers a moment later, she focused on projecting a dream into the space between her fingertips. The dark cloud that formed there came to life with black and red bolts of lighting, looking as threatening as an illusion could. She smirked when she met Mr. Biggs' gaze and lowered her voice, "…and very powerful. So, believe me when I say that I have no problem killing every person in this office until I find someone who will give us the information we're looking for. The only decision you have to make right now is if that search begins or ends with you."

Without dropping her smile, she lowered her hands to her sides and cocked her head. "So, what will it be, Mr. Biggs?"

He watched her for a few seconds, his eyes shifted over the three of them as he debated his options. Reagan wasn't surprised when he eventually nodded. He got a key from the drawer in his desk and stood slowly, shaking his head when his gaze met Reagan's. "You people need serious help."

Her smile widened. "And then some."

By the time Reagan got to the gym, she was in dire need of some coffee. Running on three hours of sleep was turning out to be harder than she expected, but her planned nap had dropped to the bottom of her to-do list after getting a phone call from Luther. She left Five and Klaus at the Meritech building to meet him at Diego's place before their brother got home, but not before slipping Five twenty dollars. Even if it came from her pocket, she was hoping it would make her feel a little better that he was going to be giving Klaus the money. Unfortunately, the guilt turning in her gut was unaffected by the idea.

Reagan raised her hand in a greeting when she walked into the gym and spotted Mr. Carpenter in the ring. Having visited her brother there a few times, she knew where to go after he told her that the "big boy" was waiting in Diego's room. She unwrapped the scarf from her neck as she walked into the back of the building and shoved it into her bag along with her gloves. The cuts and scrapes on her hands were healing slowly, but the redness and swelling had gone down since that morning so she didn't worry about her brothers spotting them. She stopped in front of the door to Diego's room and squeezed her hand into a fist to knock.

"Reg."

She wet her lips and set them into a thin line before turning her head to look at Diego, who was standing at the end of the hall. "Hey. Where you been all day?"

"Out…" He said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. She rolled her eyes, knowing he purposely used the same response she had the night before. "I had things to do."

Facing him, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Did any of these things happen to take place in a jail cell?"

Diego bowed his head as he pulled a knife from the holster on his leg. "Maybe."

"Well, next time say hi to Patch for me," Reagan said, dropping her arms to her sides. Diego walked over to her and gestured toward the door of his room with his knife.

"Luther?"

"Yeah, he said he—" Reagan stopped short when her brother put a finger to his lips and angled his body against the door. She lowered her voice to a whisper as he grabbed the doorknob. "He said he wanted to apologize."

Diego opened the door a crack. His sister exhaled slowly when he raised his throwing arm, a blade resting between his fingers.

"Diego…" she murmured, but only received a cocky wink from her brother in response.

With a flick of his wrist, he sent the knife spinning into the room. Reagan pursed her lips disapprovingly as she pushed past him and walked inside.

"Ow! What the—" Luther exclaimed from where he was sitting on the other side of the room. Reagan offered him a sympathetic smile when he looked up at them.

"I could smell it was you," Diego said, strolling into the room behind Reagan. She walked down the stairs to join her other brother by the desk.

"What the hell?" Luther asked as he pulled the knife out of the dresser beside him. "You could have killed me!"

"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead," Diego assured. Reagan couldn't help but agree with the notion. Her brother rarely missed once he decided on a target.

Reluctantly, Luther handed their brother his knife when he put out his hand for it. Reagan leaned back against the desk and pushing herself up so she was sitting on top. She waved her hand toward Diego when she noticed Luther looking to her for help.

"Apologize," she mouthed. Her brother's jaw tightened as he looked back at Dieog, who was taking off his holster to hang it up on the column by the stairs.

"It's a nice place," Luther said, earning an incredulous look from his sister.

Diego smirked over his shoulder. "I like it."

"Me too," Reagan said as she crossed her legs and pushed her hair over her shoulder. "It's cozy. Patch must've liked that."

"Who's Patch?" Luther asked at the same time that Diego shot a quieting glare at her.

Reagan bit her lip. "No one important."

She quirked an eyebrow when she noticed something in Luther's hand. She angled her head in his direction. "What's that?"

He unfolded the paper to reveal the promotion poster for one of Diego's boxing matches. It only took a moment for her to catch what day it had happened. "Diego was fighting the night that dad died."

Reagan expelled a slow breath as she slid off the desk and grabbed the paper from Luther's hand. She gave a disappointed shake of her head and looked up at her brother. "Did you really need this to know that Diego didn't do it?"

"I only thought—"

"I know what you think, Luther," Reagan reminded him, the anger seeping into her tone. Her eyes narrowed as she forced herself to ignore the words and images appearing around her. "I see everything. That is my curse. Just answer the question."

After a moment of silence passed over the room, Luther swallowed hard. "Yeah, I did."

"And now that you know he didn't do it is there something you want to say to him?"

Sighing quietly, he looked to where their brother was standing. "I'm sorry, Diego."

"You know the way out, right?" He responded as he walked up beside Reagan. Luther's eyes settled on her and she could see what he wanted her to say, but she couldn't give it to him yet.

"Yeah, I know the way," Luther said and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

"You knew, didn't you?" Diego asked. Feeling his gaze on her, she nodded.

"I'm sorry. It was the only way to get him off your back." Reagan handed him the poster and grabbed her bag off the desk. "A part of me wanted to think he'd change his mind…"

"But you knew better," Diego finished for her.

She slung her purse over her shoulder and ambled backwards to the stairs. "Haven't you heard? I know everything. Even things I never wanted to."

Diego seemed to catch her not-so-subtle hint, his brows knitting into a frown. "You okay, Reg?"

Reagan held his gaze for a moment as she debated telling him the truth, or at least a part of it. Only, once she started, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop. So, instead she buried the truth under a forced smile. "I'm fine, Diego. Just tired, is all."

"I might not be able to read minds, but I can tell when you're lying, Reagan," Diego said as he inched closer to her. "And I would be angry at you for it, but I know you've only lied to me when you had to. I'm trust that this is one of those times."

"It is," Reagan murmured, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Well, like I said before, I'm always one phone call away," Diego said. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

Without a second thought, Reagan stepped forward and threw her arms around her brother, hugging him tight as her eyes burned with the threat of tears. It took a moment for him to slide his hands around her back, having been thrown off guard by his sister's unexpected hug. Clenching her jaw, Reagan reminded that it wasn't over. Her brother was there, in her arms, alive. They still had seven days to save the world and her siblings. Hopefully, seven days was enough time change their fate.

Reagan bit back a sob that built in her throat and pulled away from her brother. She turned and stepped toward the stairs, quickly wiping the tears that were on the verge of spilling onto her cheeks before Diego could spot them. It was only when she reached the top of the stairs, and she was sure that any sign of her tears were gone, that she looked at her brother again.

"I'll call you later, Diego," she said and offered him a fleeting wave before leaving him alone in his room.

It was only once she was alone in her car that she allowed herself to break down.

Walking into her room, Reagan flipped on the light switch and turned to throw her stuff on her bed. She jumped when she realized her room wasn't empty like she'd expected. Five was lying on her bed, his arms wrapped securely around the upper half of a mannequin. Her brother's soft snores told her that he was fast asleep and had been for a while.

She put her stuff down on the chair by her desk and shuffled closer to Five. Keeping as much distance between them as she could, she reached down and shook him awake. The last thing she needed was him accidentally shooting her with some assassin's gun he kept hidden under his mannequin. Luckily, he proved to be a light sleeper. His eyes fluttered open after her first attempt to wake him and she kept a careful eye on him as he sat up slowly.

"What are you doing in my room?" She asked once he seemed to catch his bearings.

He blinked owlishly at her. "I needed—I needed to…"

"… talk to me," Reagan finished, pulling the rest of his sentence out of the air. He bobbed his head to confirm her statement and sat up a little straighter.

"You're not going to ask about it?" He queried when he noticed her staring at the bloody stains on his collar and neck. What he couldn't see was how they were no longer in her room. For Reagan, they were in a dark department store. The rapid gunfire echoing in her mind was difficult to ignore, but she forced herself to refocus her attention on Five.

Reagan huffed a breath and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't need to, Five. The second you started thinking about the shootout or anything for that matter, I see the memories and mental images that were engrained in your mind when it happened. Even if it's fragmented, I can usually piece it together. This time's no different. So, we don't need to talk about it, but we can if you want to get something off your chest."

Five's kept eye contact with her, but his gaze became glazed as his thoughts ventured elsewhere. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" Reagan asked even though she knew the answer. After years of dealing with her powers, she'd learned that always predicting what people were going to say or do had a tendency to rub them the wrong way. So, she'd taught herself to pick and choose when to guide the conversation and when to take a backseat. Knowing Five, this time it was better to let him keep control. Or at least let him think he was.

"That Mr. Biggs would believe your dream was real and give us the information we needed," Five said.

"He was already terrified by the idea of being charged with two assaults so I knew it wouldn't take much to convince him," Reagan explained. "You know that saying 'seeing is believing?'"

"Yeah…"

"Well, most people live their life by it. They believe what they see." Reagan mimicked the motions she went through in the Meritech office to make the cloud dream appear in front of her hand. This time she lifted her other hand and dragged a finger through the illusion a couple times, causing it to dissipate. Looking at her brother, she quirked her head to the side. "Even if what they're seeing isn't real. I guess it's just a part of human nature."

"That must be hard," Five said, his eyes meeting hers.

"What?"

"Convincing yourself every day that most of the things you see aren't real."

Reagan pursed her lips as she thought back to all the days that she'd struggled with that exact task. It got easier as she grew up, but there were still times when the lines between her reality and other people's thoughts blurred. Those were the days that it took everything in her not to follow in Klaus' shoes and do whatever it took to numb her powers.

"It is," Reagan admitted. "But I do it because I have to. The alternative isn't an option."

"What alternative is that?" Her brother asked as he placed his hands on the bed behind him and leaned back.

"Giving up, of course." Reagan's lips curled into a smile as she sat down beside Five. "It's not who we are. Us Hargreeves were built to last."

"I hope to hell you're right," Five said, rolling his head back on his shoulders to look at ceiling.

"I am," Reagan said without a hint of doubt. She'd let herself feel it, but showing it to her brother was another impossible option. He needed to believe that everything they were doing would be worth it. That they could live up to The Umbrella Academy's legacy and save the world. "You'll see, Five, and then you'll believe it, too."