Meanwhile, back at the Umbrella Academy, Theodore found himself dozing in the backseat of the Volvo with headphones jammed down over his ears as he lay against the leather with feet propped up on the opposing door. The child lock had clicked into place at some point; whether due to Don Diego (who was void of any blade)—who was worried about Theodore slipping out of the backseat when he went around the corner—or because Theodore, himself, had accidentally hit the button with his foot; he wasn't sure. Either way, the boy was locked in, not that he seemed to care.

With pink-bandaged arm tucked under his chin and headphones pulled down low over his ears, Theodore seemed content to just enjoy the few days of mandatory rest before he went back to school in the following week (If he went back. That thing about Don Fën and the supposed end of the world still tickled at the back of his mind, confusing him). Currently, he and Don Diego were (reluctantly) waiting in the underground garage for Don Klaus to collect his things and meet them at the car. Impatient fingers tapped irritably at the steering wheel as Don Diego grumbled under his breath, silently swearing at his absent brother.

Normally, Don Diego would have left Don Klaus to fend for himself, leaving him in the relatively safe confines of the academy and under A'Don's & A'Vera's watchful eyes. But in the short few moments that Theodore had glimpsed his don as he was shooed out the door, he could clearly see that something was wrong. Whatever had happened in the days since the funeral, something dire had clearly happened because Don Klaus was now a broken man. His bouncy & jubilant don, who had flaunted his curvaceous sexuality without a care in the world, had suddenly done a complete 180-turn.

Instead of the man he had first met only a couple of days ago, there now stood a shell of a man who seemed broken beyond repair. A great depression had settled around his shoulders and he jumped at every little noise & squeak like a mouse who was terrified of the golden feline eyes watching him from afar. It pulled at Theodore's heartstrings to see him like; to see him so broken and it frustrated him further because he had no clue as to why his don was like that. Unless, he's seen Vera's ghost… A traitorous voice whispered in the back of his mind. Theodore furiously shook his head as if to physically banish the thought from his mind. No! No, no, no, no! Vera's fine! She's totally fine! Vera can handle herself! She's—she's fine…I mean, she wasn't at any hospital or police station, so that's gotta be good sign right? Right?

But with each passing day, it was getting harder and harder to convince himself of that. It was also getting harder for him not to report her as a missing person to the police, even though he knew doing so would insight the LANE Keepers attention and put both vera & non in even more danger. Theodore felt like he was at war with himself; a war that he was slowly losing. So even though he looked rather relaxed in the backseat of the Volvo, his mind was still racing a million miles an hour and would likely not stop until he was back in his vera's arms once more.

And then there's Doro. Theodore nibbled at his lower lip in thought, Mr Lupo said that he was back in town, right? When WAS the last time I saw him? Was it that thing with the breaking and entering charge when he was nine? Or the escapement of house arrest when he was eleven? Maybe it was that hearing where Vera had to renew that restraining order that they all knew Doro would never listen to? Maybe…maybe Doro knows where Vera is? He—he wouldn't do anything to her, would he? I mean, no more than usual. 'Cause Vera always gives it back to him and she can LITERALLY throw him around…so it's not like she's in any REAL danger…right? Vera, where are you?

After everything that had happened over the last couple of days, Diego didn't feel right about leaving Theodore alone in the academy, or anywhere, really (it had been in a bit of a panicked surprise that Diego had floundered around the empty apartment later that day when he'd returned to the apartment to pick up Theodore. Upon finding the bed empty, Diego had blustered about in an absolute panic, upturning every piece of furniture in the futile hopes of finding him. In the end, Al had to calm him down, saying that they had all returned to the academy around noon). Which was why the boy was now lying down in the backseat with his headphones on. Despite the clear worry the boy was feeling about his missing mother, he seemed to be okay; at the very least, he was doing much better than his brother (which wasn't hard).

Sparing a concerned glance over towards the passenger's seat, Diego's gaze trailed over the hunched form of his younger brother as he cuddled a paper bag-wrapped bottle to his chest and stared listlessly out of the window. It was the quietest Number Four had ever been (including that time he'd broken his jaw in Mom's heels) and it was worrisome. "…You okay?" Diego tossed over to his brother as his gaze moved back to the road in front.

"Yeah…" Klaus mumbled quietly, clearly not meaning it. In the background, Theodore snored softly, unawares of the more solemn one-sided conversation.

("Awwww! He's so small! Like a little kitty! Were we ever that small?" Ben cooed, melting at the sight of their nephew sprawled out cutely next to him. In the front row, Klaus rolled his eyes at his brothers' obvious attempts to get him to crack).

"Wow, this is a first" Diego continued, talking more so to fill the silence in an effort to crack even a slither of the facade he'd put up. "My brother, Klaus, is silent"

("Yeah, it is really weird…" Ben nodded in agreement)

"The last time you were this quiet, we were—what? Twelve?" Diego smiled cheekily as he recalled the memory, "You ran down the stairs in Mom's heels, tripped over your own feet and broke your jaw. How long was it wired shut, again?"

"…Eight weeks" Klaus mumbled, barely removing his lips from the bottle to reply. "I had to drink food through a straw and you kept putting raisins in my oatmeal"

("Y'know, I don't think anyone liked Mom's oatmeal" Ben rambled as he stared out of the window where he watched the world pass by, from where he sat perched on the edge of the seat at Theodore's feet. "Especially Vanya. D'you know I found her once pouring the gloop in the garden? Which is weird, know that I think about it, coz after that she always ate her oatmeal…")

"Oh yeah!" Diego chuckled quietly as he tried to get a rise (any rise) out of his brother; unawares of the ghoulish attempts on the other side. "Eight weeks of glorious bliss!"

"…Hey, hey, hey—!" Klaus suddenly jerked upright, catching both of the elder Hargreeves brothers off-guard as he caught sight of a military-themed bar out of the window. "Just drop me off here"

"…Here? You sure?" Diego puzzled, taking note of the Veterans of Foreign Wars, Post B392: Lakeshore building as he screeched to a stop in front of the building.

("Klaus…" Ben implored him, eyes sad).

"Yeah…" Klaus nodded absently as he tumbled from the car.

"You sure you're okay, man?" Diego called, leaning out of the car window as his brother just waved him off and disappeared inside.

Diego didn't know what to do. On the one hand, he was too preoccupied with hunting down their missing (and possibly endangered) sister and the masked gunmen who had killed Eudora. If Klaus wanted to spend his days getting drunk in some old military bar, then who was he to judge? On the other hand, Klaus was clearly losing what little of his mind he had left. Depressed and grieving, Number Four was clearly mourning someone because Diego felt like he was looking in a mirror. Still mourning Eudora's sudden death, Number Two had sunk more into the third stage of grief: bargaining. (If he did this, if he found/avenged her murderers, then her death wouldn't have been in vain).

In the end, a soft snore from the backseat was enough to shake Diego from his thoughts. Contorting slightly to glance back at his nephew, Diego found Theodore curled up in the backseat with headphones hanging slightly lopsided around his crown and the sounds of Bastille blasted out from the speakers. A hesitant smile pulled at his lips at the domestic sight and it helped to calm him down some. Making up his mind, Diego heaved a put upon sigh as he turned off the engine and (after cracking the window) made his way inside to find his distraught brother.

Weaving his way through the bar, Diego found his brother glued to the memorial wall as silent tears trickled down his cheeks. There was some sort of patch in his hand and a pair of shiny dog tags that he pressed to wobbly lips; but that wasn't what worried Diego. All around him, the other (much older and rounder) occupants of the bar were getting antsy and seemed to be itching for a fight as their eyes burnt into the back of his neck as he made his way over to his grieving brother.

"Klaus" Diego placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, pulling him from his stupor.

"Oh!" Klaus jumped at the sudden contact and turned to spy his brother over his shoulder. "Just—just go away please"

"Not until you talk to me" Diego refuted.

"…Is that a threat?" Klaus sighed tiredly, furiously scrubbing at his eyes. "You threatening me—?"

"—Hey guys" One of the elder marines approached the pair of Hargreeves.

"Huh?" Diego hummed as he turned to silently greet the bearded man.

"This bar? It's for vets only"

"I am a vet" Klaus snapped in retort.

"Really?" The veteran chuckled in disbelief, humouring Klaus as if he were just a young child. "Where'd you serve?"

"None of your business" Klaus sneered, stubbornly squaring his shoulders in defiance.

Jesus, Klaus! Diego inwardly swore, bristling at the vet's thinly veiled accusations as his fingers twitched towards a weapon that wasn't there.

"You got balls comin' in here, pretendin' you're one of us"

"Oh I have every right to be in here" Klaus growled as he spun on his heel to face the rotund man. "Just like you"

"You damn LANE brats are not soldiers and are not allowed to be in here!" He retorted, before turning to snap a command over his shoulders (Clearly they had had a problem with others coming in here, previously). "Larry! Get the Keepers on the phone!"

Shit! Diego panicked, eyes flitting over to the front window where he could still see the car parked out in front. Shit was about to hit the fan.

"Asshole" Klaus smirked, more than eager to stir the pot.

"Listen here—!"

"—Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Diego quickly jumped in between the two, placing himself in front of his skinny brother. This vet looked like he could snap Klaus in half with his pinky, like the twig he was. "Hey! Slow down, marine! All right? My brother's just had a few too many. Let's just call it a day and all go out own way"

"Sure thing" The marine nodded, easily backing down.

"Thank you" Diego replied, nodding in kind before he turned to his brother in the hopes that he could shoo him back out to the car before the Keepers turned up. "Klaus—"

"—As long as you apologise"

"Hehe~!" Klaus giggled hysterically as he turned back to study the framed photo on the wall. If Diego looked closer he would've seen a grainy portrait of his very own brother.

"…Fine" Diego agreed through gritted teeth. "I'm sorry. He's sorry. We're all sorry. So…are we good?"

"…I wanna hear him say it" He pointed to Klaus who had already turned his back on the conversation.

Ugh! It's like pulling blood from a stone! Diego ground his teeth in frustration, hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets.

"Hey, man" Diego tried as he spied the guy over at the bar dialling the landline hidden behind the counter. They were running out of time. "I'm just trying to—"

"—No, no, he's right, Diego. He's right, he's right. I'd like to apologise" Klaus interjected, giggling like a mad man as he turned to face the marine with a wicked gleam in his eye. "That you are depriving some village of their IDIOT!"

So, of course in true Hargreeves fashion, they fell into a brawl of fisticuffs and wild-spitting insults. They could never do things by halves, could they?