"Here we go~!" Klaus sang—having used the last dregs of the coffee ground he had snagged from the corner store earlier in the week—and poured the coffee from the plunger into (the very hungover) Luther's cup. "This'll fix ya right up!"

"Jesus! Who do I gotta kill to get a decent cuppa coffee?" Five cursed (only half joking), having snatched Luther's cup from his hands and gulped down the coffee inside, only to find the dark brown liquid not to his tastes. Slumping back in his chair next to his hungover brother, Five had never looked as young as he did just now, all dressed up in the Umbrella Academy pyjamas—the blue ones they had worn as kids—and dwarfed by the massive size of Number One.

"Can we get started on this, please?" Luther pleaded, looking like he wanted more than to curl back up and go to sleep.

"Anyone see any of the others?" Klaus asked, stalling for time. "Diego? Allison? Vanya? No?"

As if summoned from the depths of the house, Theodore tiredly shuffled into the room wearing naught but a pair of boxers and a NASA t-shirt that had once belonged to Luther, which he had managed to scrounge up from one of their wardrobes. Although it was clearly two sizes too big, falling about the boy almost like a dress, it was neatly pressed which suggested that Mom had been the one to pull it out for him instead. The neckline of which had fallen off of his shoulders far enough his birthmark was on parade for all to see. Klaus had always likened the circular birthmark to some kind of branding—for that was what it clearly was—like the kind you might find on cattle. The inner pattern itself was odd. Where Vanya's was made up of ten little dots & circles that interwove with each other, Theodore's only contained four of such things; creating a much simpler and cleaner design

Theodore's previously wet curls had been dried and now flopped about his sleep-addled face in fluffy ringlets as he scratched absently at his bare shoulder. Shuffling like zombie, the tween grunted a greeting and made his way over to the fridge in search of some sort of breakfast. When he turned around, Klaus found himself sucking in a breath, one which caught in the back of his throat when he took note of the silvery scars littered across his shoulder blades. The small gasp from his ghoulish brother next to him, let Klaus know that at least Ben had noticed the scarring as well.

The silvery scars were small and practically insignificant in comparison to the missing eye, but it made Klaus wonder just how Theodore had gotten them in the first place. He was certain that there was no way that Vanya would have ever have done that to her son; especially not with the way she had protected him so fiercely in the days of the funeral & the ones following as such. So that just left his father, the mysterious (and supposedly mass-murdering) Harold Jenkins. He could only wonder what kind of man would lay his hands on his son like that and clearly at a young age, for the scars looked to be rather old.

The Hargreeves brothers could only watch with wide eyes and racing minds as Theodore eventually retreated from the fridge with a pottle of fruit-flavoured yoghurt clutched in his hands and as he moved to flop into a spare chair, grabbing a spoon from the drawer on the way. He sighed happily as he tucked his feet up underneath him, practically curling up like a cat in much the same manner as Ben often did.

"…What?" Theodore grumbled as he shifted uncomfortably under the feeling of the burning stares all pressed on him. Focusing on the yoghurt in his hands, he hoped to distract himself from their stares before figuring out what he was going to do with his day now that he was technically a fugitive. The events of the last couple of days had seemingly finally caught up with the Garde boy and he wanted nothing more than to sleep away whatever troubles may befall him. A quick glance over at the massive, hunching form of Number One showed that he shared a very similar sentiment.

"…Is that my t-shirt?" Luther puzzled, brows furrowed in confusion at seeing his old t-shirt that was now far too small for him, but engulfed his nephew like a dress.

"I 'unno" Theodore shrugged as he peeled off the lid of the pottle and happily dug into the creamy gelatinous mess.

"What's with the mark?" Five nodded towards his front, asking the question that seemed to be burning on the back of his tongue. He'd seen Vanya's before, of course, and logically he knew that being of her offspring, Theodore too, would have one. But that still didn't mean he was an expert in these things (something which he loathed to admit).

"We've all got 'em" Theodore muttered in reply as his bones felt like they were weighing him down to the chair, he was so tired.

Perhaps he was so exhausted because he had overslept? Klaus had done that more than once before; taken a nap so long that it had left him more tired than when he had first began. Anyhow, they were quick to figure out that the Garde boy's filter between his brain & his mouth had seemingly fallen away, allowing his wagging tongue to be a little looser than normal; given his current state.

"All?" Five quirked a questioning brow.

"E'eryone gets a birthmark" Theodore propped his elbow up on the table as he tiredly spooned the yoghurt into his mouth, practically falling asleep in the process. "Dunno why. Ask the Entity"

"Er…?"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Klaus banged his chosen weapon—a spatula (despite the fact that there was nothing on the stove that would require such a device)—against the wooden tabletop in an effort to rouse his sleepy compatriots. "Wakey, wakey! This is important!"

"I'm up! I'm up!" Theodore groused, blearily peeling a reluctant eye open and rolling it over towards Klaus who was being annoyingly perky so early in the morning.

"All right, then! So this is as close to a quorum as we're gonna get" Klaus continued, banging his chosen spatula against the tabletop in order to wake everyone up and get them to listen to him. "Now, listen up! There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just gonna spit it out—"

("—This is a bad idea" Ben sighed as he crossed his arm and slumped back against his chair).

"Yeah…" Klaus sighed in agreement as he filled up Ben's cup (despite the fact that he couldn't consume anything, but it was the thought that counted).

"…Klaus!" Luther snapped, pulling Klaus from his thoughts.

"I conjured Dad last night" Klaus rushed out.

There was a beat of silence as the admission settled in. For Theodore it didn't seem like a huge deal because wasn't that kind of his deal? Wasn't his whole power, y'know, communicating with the dead? But for Luther and Five, they both looked like they had been told that the sky was actually coloured green or that rain wasn't actually wet. Five slowly reached for the cup of coffee he had scorned earlier whilst Luther stared Klaus dead in the eye as he demanded answers with a small voice, that sounded almost like he was begging and skeptical all at the same time.

"…I thought you said you haven't been able to injure anyone in years?" Luther questioned.

"Yes, I know" Klaus nodded in agreement, "But I'm sober! Ta~da! I got clean—yesterday—to talk to someone…special and then ended up having this conversation with dear ole Daddy, himself"

"…Has anyone got some aspirin?" Luther dismissed with a disappointed sigh, turning to leave as Theodore's scooped out the last of the yoghurt stuck in the corners of the plastic receptacle.

"Top shelf, next to the crackers, Five swiftly replied.

"Hey, hey, hey! Guys! This is serious!" Klaus protested, only just holding himself back from stomping his feet like a child. "All right? This really happened! I swear!"

"Okay, fine" Five sighed tiredly, "I'll bite. What did the old man have to say?"

"Well, he gave me the whole usual lecture about my appearance and my failures in life, yada, yada, yada…" Klaus chuckled dryly as he gestured wildly with his hands (& spatula). "But no surprises there, I mean, even the afterlife couldn't soften a hard ass like Dad, right? But he did mention something about his murder or lack thereof because—"

("…Wait for it…!" Ben chimed in).

"—He killed himself"

"Oh. 'S at all?" Theodore muttered quietly into the stunned silence as he left his chair and trotted over to the counter to dump the now empty pottle into the bin and the spoon into the sink. Once free of his breakfast waste, Theodore then moved to fiddle with the little hand held radio which sat on the windowsill above the stove, in the hopes of searching for the frequency which would bring forth the LANE/Garde channel.

"What do you mean 'Is that all?" Klaus indignantly turned to his nephew with a look of affrontation on his face.

"People die e'eryday. They get old and leave" Theodore gestured with his free hand, by the way of explanation. "What's the difference 'ere? Vera says you hated 'im anyway. Innit he bad or somethin'?"

"Bad?" Luther demanded as he jumped to his feet, seemingly still wearing those rose-tinted glasses and still stuck in the hero worship of his father. "How could you say that?!"

"That's what Vera said" Theodore shrugged nonchalantly as he trotted back over to the couch and tucked himself into the saggy cushions, with radio in hand.

("Vera?" Ben puzzled, "That's—that's Vanya, right?")

"Well, she's not wrong…" Klaus nodded in reluctant acknowledgement.

"See? That's why we've got all these rules" Theodore nodded absently as he relaxed back against the armrest at his back; laying longways across the tired scullery couch.

("Rules?" Ben's brows furrowed and lips thinned in thought. "What kind of rules? Whatever for?")

"Rules?" Five unknowingly repeated his brother's words. "Why would you have rules like that?"

"It wasn't safe" Theodore replied as he fiddled with the radio knobs, "So we gotta have rules 'til it's safe"

"Safe? Safe from what?" Luther pursued, unable to see why his sister and his nephew were so afraid of his father. Vanya had tried to explain it to him, but he still couldn't see the problem they had.

"A'Doro and the Keepers"

"…Again, not wrong" Klaus agreed as Five sucked in a hissed breath at the answer; not that he could reasonably deny the accusations.

"I swear to God, Klaus, you better not be playing games!" Luther demanded as he turned on his brother, slamming his fists down on the table so hard that it shook.

("Jesus!" Ben jumped, hands jumping up into the air in surprise as if he was expecting the table to collapse).

"No, no, no! I'm telling you the truth, Luther! I'm telling you the truth!" Klaus protested as the conversation easily switched back to Sir Reginald's supposed suicide.

"Why did he do it then?" Five asked, sparing only a calculating glance over towards his nephew on the couch where the radio crackled through the stations, before he turned back to his pleading brother.

"He said that it was the only way to get us all to come home again" Klaus replied, mockingly repeating the same words that his father had told to him.

"No!" Luther furiously denied, "Dad wouldn't just kill himself!"

"Eh, you said it yourself; he was depressed" Five gently reminded him as he sipped at his coffee. "Holed up in his office & room, all day & night"

"No! There weren't any signs!" Luther denied, before moving onto mansplain exactly what he meant. "Suicidal people exhibit certain tendencies, strange behaviours—"

"—Like sending someone to the moon for no reason?" Klaus interjected, throwing back those words and experiences in his face.

"I swear to God, Klaus!" Luther snarled, "If you're lying—!"

"—I'm not! I'm not!" Klaus pleaded his innocence.

"Klaus—!"