4

"The real world is where the monsters are."

Reagan walked down the street towards the inconspicuous van that was parked across from Meritech Prosthetics. Upon reaching it, she sharply rapped her knuckles against the window and her brother leaned over to unlock the door for her. "I'm pretty sure this is the most mundane thing I've seen you do since you got back," she said as she hoisted herself into the passenger's side seat, pulling the door shut behind her.

"And the most boring," Five grumbled without taking his eyes off the building.

His sister smirked to herself as she put the take-out cup carrier on the floor. She grabbed two of the four coffees, handing one to Five. "You remind me of Diego when you do that."

"What?"

"Brood," Reagan replied, adding, "Maybe you did learn something from us after all." She let out a sigh when her gaze caught the several bottles of alcohol half-hidden in the duffel bag between their seats. Picking one up, she turned the vodka over in her hand to read the label. "Make that two things: suppressing emotions and unhealthy coping mechanisms."

"You're not going to lecture me?" Five asked.

"I would if I thought you'd actually listen to me." She gingerly placed the bottle back in the bag which she found also contained half a mannequin; Five called it Dolores and had apparently grown quite fond of it. "It would make me feel better if you mixed some in with your coffee, though. You know, to water down the alcohol with the caffeine."

Five ignored her measly attempt at a joke, but did as she asked. He swirled his coffee cup in slow circles to mix the two drinks together and turned his attention back to the Meritech building. "You know, I spent a lot of time during the apocalypse trying to piece together your guys' future—my past. Even after reading all your books I could never figure out how you managed to get out of that house in one piece."

"Who said that I did?" Reagan muttered, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She propped her elbow up against the window and rested her chin on her hand. "I don't think any of us did. We all lost a part of ourselves in that house. Maybe letting it go is the key to leaving all that shit behind."

"What about Luther?"

"He never wanted to let go, so he stayed longer than any of us. Even when he was on the moon, his heart and soul were locked in that house. They still are."

"Do you think he'll ever leave?" Five questioned, sliding a glance in his sister's direction.

With a shrug of her shoulders, Reagan said, "I hope so, but that will have to be something he decides on his own otherwise he'll always end up going back."

"You think I would've made it out if I hadn't gotten stuck in the future?"

She let out a breathless laugh, turning her head toward her brother. "Oh, without a doubt. You were always too stubborn to stay."

"Where are you?"

"I had to run an errand with Five," Reagan said as she craned her neck to look back at the van where he was lounging.

"You two have been spending a lot of time together the past couple days," Allison noted. "I never thought you were that close."

"We weren't, really, but a lot of things can change in 17 to 45 years."

Her sister sighed over the phone. "Well, I'm glad he's talking to you at least. He's basically been avoiding the rest of us."

"He's still catching his bearings, Al. Just give him time," Reagan reassured her.

She raked a hand through her hair as she kicked at the gravel beneath her feet out of frustration, sending a few rocks skidding down the sidewalk. For some reason, Five still believed it was for the best that their brothers and sisters remained oblivious about the apocalypse. Even if it did end up being the right decision, it didn't make it any easier for Reagan to continuously lie to their siblings.

"You really believe that's all it is?" Allison asked, her voice dropping to a murmur.

"Even if it isn't, it doesn't change the fact that he's our brother. You don't give up on the people you love just because they're being a stubborn asshole." Reagan paused as she watched Five take another drink of his coffee-vodka combo. "He's not going to be able to shake us that easily."

"Neither are you, you know."

Reagan's brow crinkled. "You're kidding, right? I fly across the country once a month to visit you."

"Yeah, but whenever you do we always end up just talking about me or Claire or our asshole brothers," Allison said. "It's like you use your empathy as a shield to stop us from digging into your life."

"That's not true," Reagan protested as she began to fidget with the hem of her jacket. "My life's an open book."

"If that's the case, why didn't you ever tell us about what dad made you do?"

A chill ran up her spine causing her to shudder. Reagan knew exactly what her sister was referring to. The problem was that Allison wasn't supposed to know about it and there was only one person who could've told her.

Clenching her jaw, she expelled a calming breath. "I have to go, Allison."

"Reagan, I don't—"

She ended the call before her sister could finish and slammed the payphone back onto the cradle. Reagan wasn't sure what excuse she would give Five, but she needed to take a break from their surveillance mission to hunt down Klaus.

15 years ago…

"Focus, Number Zero."

Reagan exhaled slowly and looked to her father. "I'm trying."

"If you haven't been able to do it yet, then you're obviously not trying hard enough," Reginald dictated without breaking his focus on the notebook he was constantly scribbling in.

Knowing it was pointless to try arguing with him, Reagan shut her eyes again. The sooner she was able to give her father what he wanted, the sooner he'd let her leave. She hated that he chose to cut into her free time to do the practice sessions, but she hated who he'd chosen as the test subjects even more.

All her life her father had told her that her abilities were a tool, an instrument that could be used to ensure not only her success, but the success of their family. Reagan never imagined he'd have her use her powers on her siblings. And yet, there she was, sneaking into their thoughts and dreams for her father's benefit. She knew it was wrong, but after years of coming up with ways to avoid telling him what she was truly seeing in her sibling's minds, she'd run out of options. The heart rate monitor, blood pressure cuff, and brain scanner she was hooked up to made sure of it.

"There you go," her father murmured quietly. His voice snapped her out her trance and she opened her eyes to find herself in the midst of a blur of thoughts and memories.

The moment she finished relaying what she was saw to her father, she ripped the electrodes off her temples and chest, dropping them on the table. Glaring at her dad, she cocked an eyebrow. "Can I be excused now?"

"You may, Number Zero," he said, his attention still glued on his notebook.

Reagan bit back a scoff as she turned to leave. What she wouldn't give to have a look in that damn notebook.

Present day…

The house was the first place she thought to check. Reagan had seen Klaus draped across the couch in the living room before she left to meet up with Five. Even though he was no longer there, she knew he couldn't have gone far. As a broke addict who couldn't drive, he didn't have many other options.

Reagan made her way to the second floor, pausing by each room to make sure her brother wasn't passed out in one of them. She stopped when she got to Diego's and found him stretched out on his bed. Venturing into the room, she gently knocked on the door to draw his attention.

"What are you doing here?" He inquired. "I thought you'd be with Five."

"Why is everyone so concerned with my whereabouts all the time?" Reagan asked as she defensively folded her arms over her chest. "I can barely go an hour without someone asking where I am or who I'm with."

Diego sat up, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Because we can see that something's wrong, Reg. You're not as good of a liar as you think you are."

"I'm better at it than you," she retorted with a crinkle of her nose.

His lips formed a coy smirk. "That may be true, but you've been running around nonstop for the past three days, barely taking any time to rest. We've seen you do this before, and I'm sure you remember how well that ended the last time."

"That was different, Diego," Reagan told him. "I was a kid then. I'm older now. Stronger. I can handle it."

He came to a stand and shuffled closer to her, his expression softening. The smirk he was wearing was replaced by a sympathetic smile. "I'm not saying you can't. You might be the strongest one in this house, but even superheroes have breaking points. If you're not careful, you'll reach yours sooner rather than later."

Reagan's brows knitted together in a suspicious scowl. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

Diego rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Ha ha. Very funny."

"Don't get me wrong, seeing your sweet side is refreshing, though at the same time slightly unnerving. But it's completely beside the point. I didn't come here to talk about me, I just wanted to see if you know where Klaus is."

"Uh, I think he just left with Luther," Diego said, nodding towards the hallway.

"Do you know where they went?"

"Luther wanted to call a family meeting, so I'm guessing they went to find you and Five."

"Of course they did," Reagan huffed. She turned to leave, but paused when she glanced at her brother's holster. She bit into her lip as she pointed at a knife. "Can I borrow one of those?"

"Why?" Diego glanced down at the sharpened blade strapped to his chest. He kept a careful eye on her as he pulled the weapon out and twirled it between his fingers.

She shrugged weakly. "Reasons…"

He began backing away from her, going further into his room. "If you're not gonna tell me…" He started to slide the knife back into his holster.

"Well, I didn't think you'd give it to me if I told you I wanted to use it to maim our brother," Reagan admitted.

Diego stopped short at the foot of his bed, his eyes narrowing. "Why wouldn't I let—"

Shaking her head, she clarified, "Klaus, not Luther."

"What did he do now?" Diego flopped back onto his mattress and clasped his hands behind his head.

"Something stupid," Reagan said.

"Obviously." He paused to push himself up on his elbows. "Got any more details you want to share?"

"He broke a promise, proving once again that relying on an addict for anything is a bad idea."

"If you knew that, why'd you trust him to keep the promise in the first place?"

Reagan shifted her weight as she chewed on her lip. The more she talked around her secret, the higher the chances that she would slip up. It was inevitable that it would get out eventually, but she wanted it to be on her own terms.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she squared her shoulders. "Because I was 16 when I made him do it and I was too young to understand what he was becoming."

After watching her for a moment, her brother sighed. "Well, you were right. I'm not going to give you a knife so that you can maim Klaus, but I will go with you to find him if you want."

"That's okay," Reagan said. "I know where they're going and on the off chance things get out of hand, Luther will be there to stop me from garroting our brother with my scarf."

Diego chuckled softly. "I don't think I've seen you this angry since Klaus tricked Luther into throwing your bed out the window."

Reagan cocked her head as she backed out of the room. "Klaus will be lucky if he only gets out of this one with a smack over the head."

"You just missed them by a few minutes," Five said once Reagan was seated beside him in the van again. He peered at her from the corner of his eye when she released an exasperated sigh. Her brother lifted his coffee toward her, holding it in the air until she took the cup from his hand. Tipping it against her lips, she sipped the coffee-vodka mixer steadily until it was gone.

"What did they want?"

"Luther was trying to get me to come back to the house to vote on whether or not we should turn off mom."

Reagan turned in her seat. "Wait, what? Why the hell would they do that?"

"Number One thinks she had something to do with dad's death," Five explained with a careless shrug of his shoulders.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Reagan scoffed, "and I've heard Luther say a lot of stupid shit."

"I don't doubt that."

Leaning against the door, she looked at her brother. "Are you going?"

"I think finding a way to stop the apocalypse is a pretty good excuse to skip this family meeting," Five responded with a shake of his head.

"True, but what if we don't go and they end up shutting her off?"

Five pursed his lips as he met Reagan's gaze. "Honestly, Reg, I don't really care that much about it. At least, not as much as I do about the end of the world, but you can go if you want. I can handle a couple hours of light stalking by myself."

"You sure?" She asked, arching a brow.

"I survived the apocalypse all on my own," Five said. "I got this."

Reagan watched him for a moment longer before opening the door to step out of the van. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and then jerked her thumb over her shoulder to gesture towards the payphone across the alley.

"I call, you answer, no exceptions," Reagan instructed. She continued before he could argue. "I know you survived the apocalypse all on your own and just killed six guys last night,. Unfortunately, that doesn't change the fact that you're stuck in the body of a thirteen year old, which technically makes me your older sister now. There's no one else watching your back, so you've at least got to let me try."

Five gave a firm nod of his head. "Okay."

"Really?" Reagan questioned, quirking her head to the side. When he nodded again, she let out an amused hum. "I thought you'd fight me harder on it."

"I've basically been alone for the last 45 years. If I got hurt or even died while I was gone, there wouldn't have been anyone there to care. It's kind of nice knowing there's someone out there worrying about me now."

Reagan rolled her lips into her mouth, actively fighting the urge to spill every sentimental thought running through her head. Keeping those kinds of things to herself was always the default when it came to her family. Even though 17 years had passed since Five disappeared, that was one of the things that never changed.

Instead of purging her emotions to her brother, Reagan opened the door to get out of the van. "Well, I'll be back in an hour, two tops. Try not to get yourself killed in the meantime." She lingered on the sidewalk and leaned back into the van, lowering her voice as she offered a small smile. "Just so you know, Five, I never stopped worrying about you. It didn't matter how long you were gone."

Reagan closed the door a second later, but she could've sworn she saw Five's mouth twitch with a hint of a smile.

It was getting dark by the time that Reagan arrived back at the Academy. She slipped in through the front door quietly and checked the first floor of the house for any sign of her siblings or their mom. Since she'd been so busy trying help Five, she hadn't been around enough to see if there was truly anything wrong with Grace. Luther could be overdramatic to say the least and she hoped that this was only another misconception on his part. Their father's death wasn't that big of a tragedy if Reagan was being honest. At the end of the day, aside from Pogo, Grace was the only parental figure she ever knew. Shutting her off would be a true loss.

Taking two steps at a time, Reagan ascended the grand staircase to the second floor. She was still hoping to get a minute alone with Klaus before she faced Allison. It was difficult to blame someone who had fried their brain to the point that they could barely remember what they ate for breakfast, let alone that they promised to keep a secret, but she was determined to find a way.

Reagan slowed to a stop when she noticed Diego sitting against the wall outside his room. He was repeatedly flicking daggers into the wooden floor in front of him, only pulling them out to throw them back down a second later. He didn't acknowledge her presence until she slid down the wall to sit beside him.

"I didn't think you'd be back so soon."

"I heard what was going on with mom," Reagan said as she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. "I wanted to be here."

Diego breathed out steadily before whipping another knife into the floor. "You missed the vote."

She tilted her head to look at him. "Is she okay? Mom?"

"For now," Diego answered. He pulled out the two knives that were lodged into the wooden floor. He leaned closer to Reagan, whispering, "Luther's an idiot, but I think he was right about something being wrong with her."

"What do you mean?"

"She's too…distant. It's like she's having trouble piecing things together."

Reagan linked an arm through her brother's, resting her head on his shoulder. "But you voted no on shutting her down."

"I had to, Reg," Diego muttered. "Fighting for her is the least we can do after everything she's done for us."

"I understand why you did it. I'm just wondering if it's the best choice for mom," she pondered aloud.

Her brother pulled back an inch to peer down at her. "What the hell are you saying?"

"Diego, you have to be realistic. I know mom always seemed and acted real, but when it comes down to it, she's a program at her core. All programs can malfunction or get infected."

"So, what? You just want to kill her and forget about her? Forget about everything she's done for us?"

Reagan's gaze fixed into a glare. "Those words never came out of my mouth so why are you hearing them?"

"Then what are you saying?"

"If there is something wrong with her programing or she's malfunctioning in some way, then maybe all we have to do is get someone to fix her. Dad might have acted like he was God's gift to mankind, but he's not the only genius to ever exist and I bet that we could find another one to help mom."

Diego's eyes narrowed as he stared back at her. "You'd do that?"

"I've always got your back, Diego. If you want to fight for her then I'll be right there beside you," Reagan said.

"Are you doing this for me or because you actually think it's the right thing to do?"

She sagged wearily against the wall. "I'm going to do whatever I can to keep mom with us. Does it really matter why I'm doing it?"

Reagan's head dipped and she jerked awake. She braced her hands against what she expected to be the hardwood floor only to find herself on something soft instead. Diego's bed, to be exact. It took her a moment, but she remembered them moving into his room after their conversation. Except now Diego was nowhere to be seen.

She looked out the window since she had no other way of telling how long she'd been asleep. It was completely dark out which meant it had been at least an hour. Sliding off Diego's bed, she yawned and rubbed the fatigue from her eyes. Even if it hadn't been that long since she fell asleep, she still had to get back to Five as soon as she could. She knew all too well how much things could change in an hour.

Reagan lifted a hand to the doorknob, but the sudden eruption of gunfire stopped her cold. Her mind instantly cleared as she dropped to the floor and slipped behind Diego's dresser. The impact of the bullets outside the bedroom made seem it as if the shooters were closing in. Reagan was almost certain they didn't know she was in there, though. If they did, there would be nothing stopping them from knocking down the door and killing her in seconds. A part of her wanted to leave the safety of Diego's bedroom to help whoever was being shot at, but walking right into the line fire was an even worse idea.

A few moments later, there was an unexpected lull in gunfire only broken by the sound of two distinct and unfamiliar voices.

"Cha-cha, shoot him!"

"Move out of the way, dumbass!"

"Cha-cha?" Reagan mouthed as she tried to remember where she'd heard the name. Before she could put her finger on it, another wave of gunfire came from the hallway.

When the house fell silent again, Reagan heard loud footsteps slowly fade away, signaling that the shooters had moved on. She cautiously rose up from her hiding spot and tiptoed towards the door, removing her stiff jacket.

The door creaked on its hinges as she pulled it open to poke her head out and found that the hallway was empty. The walls were freshly decorated with a generous spray of bullet holes which meant that whoever these people were, they came into the Academy intending to cause serious damage. Reagan zeroed in on the other end of the hall when the gunfire continued in the distance. This time, she didn't hesitate to follow the noise to the second floor balcony, which overlooked the living room. It was there she spotted Diego cowering behind one of the couches.

She ducked low when she saw two people join her brother below. It wasn't a jump to assume they were the ones leading this attack on her family. The main question left lingering in the back of her mind was why?

Reagan dropped to a knee as the assailants lifted their weapons and began firing aimlessly at the corner of the room where Diego was hiding. She raised her arms from her sides and focused on creating a dream that would let her brother escape their line of fire. She learned at a pretty young age how to use her powers as a weapon, much like Allison with her rumor abilities. No matter how smart their enemies were, they always struggled to discern Reagan's dreams from reality.

The scene below began to shift as she crafted an illusion from memory. She gave them a moving target in the form of a Diego-shaped shadow sprinting for the other side of the room. Much like Reagan expected, the shooters turned their weapons on the dream. Looking to her brother, she motioned toward the door behind him, hoping he'd use the window of opportunity she created to get to safety.

"Diego, move!" Reagan shouted when he hesitated, but she instantly regretted it when her voice drew the shooters attention back to him.

She instinctively created a wall between Diego and their attackers. The dream wouldn't do much to protect him from the very real bullets, but it would be harder for the shooters to hit what they couldn't see. She was so focused on maintaining her illusion that she didn't notice one of the masked assailants turning their gun on her until it was too late.

Reagan screamed when a searing pain shot through her neck. Her dream faded from the living room as she fell back and clamped a hand over the burning wound. She propped herself up against the wall, ignoring the hot sticky liquid pooling between her fingers. Judging solely by the pain, the bullet just grazed her. That much she could handle. She'd been hurt much worse before. The only thing that was troubling her was the blood. A couple stitches would fix her up, but performing minor surgery on herself would be hard with a gunfight going on in the next room.

It was only at that moment she realized the shooting had ceased. Though several voices carried to the second floor balcony, Reagan couldn't make out the words. After taking a minute to gather her strength, she wiped the blood off her hands on her jeans and got to her knees. Using the bookshelf beside her, she slowly dragged herself off the floor. She kept one hand on the wall for added support as she shuffled toward the stairs and used her free hand to keep pressure on the wound. The sooner she could stop the bleeding, the sooner she could help her siblings.

"Hello? Guys?"

She immediately recognized Vanya's voice coming from below her. While the shooting had stopped, there was still a distinct chance that her sister was obliviously walking into a dangerous situation. Reagan steeled herself and jogged the rest of the way to the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. When she reached the bottom, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to help push through the lightheadedness that suddenly washed over her. She continued toward the living room where Vanya was waiting with her back turned to Reagan. Except she wasn't alone.

"Vanya!" Reagan yelled as one of the assailants stepped into view behind her sister. Vanya turned just in time to duck below the mace he was swung at her, but he was able to hit her with his free hand before she could dodge it.

Without a second thought, Reagan charged at the taller man, using the momentum to catch him in the side with a high kick. It didn't seem to have any effect on him, but it did make him to turn his sights on her instead of Vanya. While Reagan wasn't any bigger or stronger than her sister, at least she knew how to defend herself. Their father never saw the point in teaching any fighting skills to Vanya since she wasn't a "real member" of the Umbrella Academy. Unfortunately, the notion had become another thing that her father was wrong about.

Reagan skillfully evaded several swings of his arms as the man tried to shorten the distance between them to get the upper hand. If she let him get close enough, he could easily knock her out with a single punch. She only moved forward to kick him in the chest, hoping it would push him back. Reagan winced when he caught her and tightened his fingers around her ankle.

The man yanked hard on her leg, jerking her forward before she could brace herself. He grabbed Reagan by the throat and she cried out as his fingers dug into the open wound on her neck. She clawed at his hands, but it did nothing to loosen the hold he had on her. Instead the man lifted her off the floor. He slammed her against the nearest wall several times before finally releasing her.

She crashed to the floor, coughing violently as her airways opened up again and a rush of oxygen flooded her lungs. Reagan attempted to ignore the pain coursing through her as she rolled onto her back. Despite being injured and vulnerable, nothing could stop her from fighting back if he came at her again. Those were the same odds she fought against ever since she was a kid.

"Hey, asshole!"

Relief washed over Reagan when Luther's voice reached her ears. Her attacker quickly lost interest in her when he noticed the much larger target standing behind him. She had no idea where her brother had been this whole time, but she was glad he picked that moment to finally show up.

"Thank fuck," she mumbled as she weakly clamped a hand over her still bleeding neck. With her pounding headache growing stronger by the second it was almost impossible to keep her eyes open. Reagan blinked heavily a few times, trying to fix her blurring vision. Despite her efforts to stay awake, the exhaustion was too overwhelming and she was pulled into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Diego leaned over to pull Reagan's blanket up over her shoulder. There were several things he wanted to tell her about, him shutting off their mom being the first, but it would have to wait. He exhaled and glanced around the living room which was still a mess of scattered bullet casings and trashed furniture.

After they got rid of the two masked intruders, he'd found his sister lying in a bloody heap on the living room floor and carried her to the couch where Pogo did his best to tend to her injuries. It had been a few hours since he told Diego and the others that she would be fine. Her head would heal on its own and the stitches on her neck would come out in a week. She just needed some rest.

Sighing, Diego squeezed his sister's hand. It was partially his fault that Reagan was hurt that badly. He should've known she would try to play hero just like she did when they were kids and he should've been there to help her. It was his job to protect her, and this wasn't the first time he'd failed, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make sure this would be the last time.