Diego always did have a flair for drama. If his many, many stupid leather outfits were not proof enough of that, the hero complex Allison vividly remembered from their childhood definitely was. And the yelling through the house with absolutely zero background information? Well, that fitted in just fine.
"Diego, we're tired," groaned Allison through the closed door, "can't you just come in here and tell us?"
"Get off your super strength movie-star ass and come have a look."
Allison did not.
And so it was less than a minute later that Diego barged back through the bedroom door, flinging it open so it hit the wall and bounced off. A loud bang echoed through the room.
"Seriously, Diego?!"
There was a moan from the bed and they both froze.
Five rolled his head to the other side, let out a tiny sigh, and was still. Vanya reached out, somewhat timidly, and patted his hair. Allison saw a vision of Klaus doing the same thing and realised in that moment what it was that drew the two of them together: both trying to express tender affection in the midst of a group of pigheaded, borderline sociopathic, constantly rebelling, power-driven morons.
Allison met Vanya's eyes and Vanya quickly looked away, blushing in the low light.
"You should go have a look," said Vanya quietly, burrowing further under the blanket. "I already know what he's going to say."
Allison dearly wanted to say that she would rather hear the news from Vanya, and the fact that Diego feeling somewhat guilty about flinging the door open did not make up for his demanding attitude - especially given they were all exhausted and Five really did not need to be startled awake.
But she didn't.
Diego at least said what he thought, no matter what and no matter how little he had thought about the consequences of his words beforehand. He was predictable and she knew where she - and everyone else - stood with him. He wore his heart on his sleeve and right now he was trying to be as useful as possible, probably to stop himself from thinking about the knife wound they had just patched up in Five's abdomen.
Whereas Vanya? Allison never knew where she stood with her. They had patched up some relationship holes in the past few days but that was back in the '60s and it felt like a lifetime ago. They had both been through so much, and all Vanya had wanted was a sister. And Allison had been willing, after so many years of neglect and isolation, to give that to her.
But now? Now her little sister lay in bed, curled up and warm, with the gift that had protected Allison since childhood. She had not only destroyed Allison's voice once, but she had now stolen it for herself.
And Allison still did not know how to feel about that.
She raised her eyes to the ceiling and let out a long sigh.
"Fine," she said to Diego. She was tempted to reach out a hand and demand that he help her up, but once again she stopped herself, curling her hands - her dangerous hands - into fists. She could get up on her own. "Where are we going?"
"Just outside," said Diego leading her back through the bedroom door and then to a small door off the lounge.
"I thought you were going to find Klaus," said Allison, stepping down off the porch. "If I turn around and see the barn on fire-"
"Just look."
Allison looked. There was nothing that she could see, just darkness and the faint shape of a barn in the background.
"What am I looking at?"
"It's the same!" He waved an arm at the dark expanse.
"The same what?"
"We time travelled, Allison." Diego finally lowered his hands and turned to face her. His face in the light of the kitchen was serious. "We're back at the farm."
"Wait," said Allison, thinking for a quick second. "Vanya's farm?"
Vanya, the one who had fallen in love with a housewife and tried to run away with her? No wonder she had recognised the inside of the house. This would have been the place her and Sissy had dreamed up a future together. And no wonder she had known what Diego had been going to say.
Allison stared at him.
"We're at Vanya's farm? Again? The farm where we almost got killed by a horde of assassins from The Commission?"
"Technically they weren't all assassins."
"You said you didn't stay for orientation."
Diego shrugged.
"I stayed for enough of it." He looked at the sky then back at the house. "We're definitely not in 2019, or in the '60s again. I'm guessing somewhere in the 80s maybe, judging by that kitchen there, but hey, he could just be a hoarder."
This was both big and bad. Once again, they had been ripped away from the world they knew and thrust somewhere with unknown threats and unknown strangers and unknown unknowns. At least this time nothing had tried to kill them so far.
And Allison had to smile, if only ruefully. Luther, the very same Luther who had locked their sister in a tight enclosed space under some misguided desire to protect the family, had, in the midst of a new power and a scary situation, taken them all back to where Vanya felt the safest. She glanced back at the porch where Luther still snored, oblivious to the world. Well-intentioned, perhaps, but definitely still hell of a decision.
The more Allison looked around, the more she realised Diego was right about where they were. But when they were was a whole other mystery that couldn't be solved by a kitchen layout and Diego's vibes.
"I think it's a little too fast to be making snap judgments about any sort of timezones," said Allison slowly, turning back to Diego, who was now heading out towards the barn with a purposeful stride. Diego was not listening.
"I mean Luther - Luther - time travelled," he said, starting to pace. "With us in tow. And we all know from Five how difficult that is, the little shit won't shut up about it. But who knew the big guy had it in him? I mean-"
Allison heard the windows behind her rattling.
"Diego."
"It took Five years to time travel in the first place, and we all know how much of a crapshoot that was." He stopped. "What if we're stuck here? What if it's like before, with Five and the apocalypse and Luther can't get us home?"
Something splintered behind them. The barn began creaking loud enough that Allison could hear it from where they stood.
"Oh God, what if we have to live out the rest of our lives in some unknown timezone on a farm?"
"I'm sure you'll be able to find someone to try and save, even if it's just a lonesome cow." She couldn't help at least one comment. Just one. Especially when his JFK 'heroics' had nearly gotten them all killed.
"I can't live on a farm. I've never seen a cow in real life. And what do chickens even eat? No." He clenched his fists. Allison ducked as a window shattered. "No, I'm outta here."
"Diego."
"What?"
Allison waved a hand at the porch and watched as her brother took in the bent wood, the broken porch chair, and the missing roof tiles. And the broken window right above where Luther slumped against the wall.
Diego swallowed. Another wooden board in the porch bent and snapped.
"You need to calm down."
"I'm fine-"
"You're not fine, and you need to acknowledge that and listen to me quickly enough to stop causing even more damage to the house." She paused. "Where our sister is currently asleep and our brother is unconscious."
"Hey now," said Diego, backing up a step with hands raised, "you don't get to tell me what to do anymore. Your voice is gone and I - I'm officially the most powerful Hargreeves. Oh my God, I'm the most powerful Hargreeves. Suck it, Number One." He laughed, short and sharp. And then sucked in a breath. "I could blow up the moon."
His voice dropped as he finished, as if he were in awe of the sheer fact. Allison clenched her fists.
"You're going to be the only Hargreeves if you don't get some control over your emotions!" It was not quite at the top of her voice, but it was close. It was times like these that she would have used a rumour, and she wished heartily for Vanya to be standing beside her so they could both tell Diego what to do. But thoughts of Vanya only left a bitter taste in her mouth and she squashed down anything to do with her sister for now. She had lasted for long enough without her powers, both after Claire and in the '60s. She could last through this temporary whatever-it-was until Five woke up and explained how to get them back.
Allison took a step closer. The ground rolled under her feet like a wave, and she glanced at Diego. What she could see of his face was pale in the low lighting.
"I could b-blow up the m-moon," repeated Diego as if he had not heard her. "I -"
Allison moved.
Diego went sailing across the grass. The rolling earth stopped.
"I've been waiting to do that for years," muttered Allison, not even bothering to rub her knuckles.
The punch had felt familiar. Their father had trained them all in hand to hand combat but since she had left the Umbrella Academy, she hadn't had much need for such skills. Those combat moves had come a little more to the forefront when she had lost her voice and been stuck in the racism of the '60s, but even then her voice had recovered and she had something to fall back on if she ever needed to if she ever got into trouble. And she had used it. When it mattered.
But now? Now the punch, with all of the anxiety over her new strength, felt good.
She moved over to loom over Diego.
"Did you just punch me in the face?" He blinked his eyes open, raised a hand, checked his nose and cheeks, and ran a hand through his long hair, pulling out the pieces of grass as he pushed himself to his elbows. Stunned? Yes. No longer shaking the earth? Yes. But broken? Allison knew enough at least to prevent that.
"You deserved it." She held out a reluctant hand to help him up, and he stretched out a reluctant hand to accept the offer.
"Luther never punched that hard," he said, a little petulantly.
"That wasn't even a quarter of my full strength," replied Allison. She pulled Diego to his feet. "Now imagine how much he could've hurt you if he'd been trying."
Diego wobbled as he stood, though whether it was because she had punched harder than she had thought or because the sheer realisation that Luther was holding back during their fights had knocked something loose in his head, Allison did not know. Or care really.
"Now you've got Vanya's powers, you need to keep that hotheaded temper in check."
She could see how it grated on his nerves, still being told what to do, and by Number Three at that, but she watched him swallow any response he wanted to give, and nod once. It was an improvement on what would have been even by the last time they'd been shuttled through time. She was somewhat impressed.
Until another roof tile flew off.
"Diego."
"I'm trying." He was. His face was screwed shut like it had been when he'd received his Umbrella Academy tattoo, all hunched in on himself like he could control everything if only he sat still enough, curled up enough, kept his eyes shut long enough.
Allison rolled her eyes.
"What's actually bothering you?"
"Excuse me?"
"What's bothering you?" She took a seat on the grass, careful of any splinters of the broken boards, and looked up at her brother. "Because I know the idea of living on a farm isn't enough to have you smashing windows and throwing off roof tiles, and don't you try to tell me otherwise."
"Wha- this isn't some sleepover where we talk about our feelings," hissed Diego.
Allison shrugged.
"It might as well be. It's night time, your feelings are all over the place, and you're currently a danger to everyone around you. Why shouldn't we talk about your feelings?" She paused. "Unless of course you're worried Luther will overhear."
Diego glanced at the lump against the house. The snores, now that it was quiet again, could be heard from where Allison was sitting.
"Fine," snapped Diego, falling to the ground in somewhat more of a heap than Allison had. "But know that I'm doing this under duress."
"A sleepover!" A voice came from the darkness of the barn. "I love sleepovers! We can braid each others' hair, paint each others' nails, Diego can tell us all how much he loves us-"
"Klaus, what are you doing here?"
Out of the darkness came a lanky figure, complete with a cowboy hat and a bottle of something swinging in a loose hand.
"I lost my torch and I'm scared of the dark."
Allison laughed. She couldn't help it. It was Klaus, very Klaus, cutting through the tension, through any emotional moments, with a well-witted knife. And Diego being Diego didn't like it much.
"How do you lose a torch?" he said, getting to his feet again, ready to get huffy and avoid talking under the guise of helping Klaus search.
Allison's hand shot out, almost of its own accord, and grabbed his pant-leg, pulling him up short.
"Oh, so this is a very different sort of sleepover," said Klaus, flopping on the ground, legs akimbo. The bottle landed with him and made a dull thud noise. Allison placed bets on it being empty. She knew the sound of empty glass well enough herself. "Hostage negotiations. You know what? I'm still game."
Diego ignored him.
"Let me go, Allison."
It felt the same. The holding in place and when she had used her rumours. She had power over these people, power to keep them from doing what it was they wanted. An image of Claire's glazed eyes flashed through her mind, followed by an ache as if she had been punched in the stomach. Claire wasn't here anymore.
She let Diego go.
"Aw, I wanted to hear Diego talk about his feelings," whined Klaus as he watched Diego storm off. The trees rattled around him as he went and Allison could feel the wind change on her face as he faded from view.
"Aren't you going to help him find your torch?"
Klaus threw back his head and released one over-dramatic sigh.
"While I do so love our temperamental and chronically attachment-avoidant brother," he said, "the torch isn't really what he's gone looking for." He picked up the bottle and shook it upside down, pouting at the lack of anything inside.
"Are you drunk?"
Klaus laughed.
"Nope! I am one hundred percent sober!" He dropped the bottle and shook his hands, billowing sleeves waving in the non-existent wind. "No drugs either and nothing up my sleeve! Isn't it wonderful. Though, if you're offering, I could really do with a, not even a big glass, just, you know, a tiny sip of whiskey, maybe a little bit of tequila, nothing major, something strong to take the edge off and just, poof, whirl me away for the evening."
"Klaus, what's going on?"
"I just, I have questions, you know? So. Many. Questions!" Uncommonly for Klaus, he did not seem to want to elaborate.
"Is this about …" Allison did not want to say it out loud, but Klaus understood nonetheless.
"What are you asking, sister mine? Whether it was Diego who stabbed our poor young Number Five, or was it me? Or was it both of us? Or neither - hey, did you see that cube thing in there? And I thought Luther was weird." He grinned. "Did it used to be human? Was it that the Sparrow Academy went out one day and it magically just turned into a cube? Or did," he giggled, "did a tiny green glowing cube just, pop, out of some woman on our birthday? Or did dad accidentally find himself in some alleyway second hand shop and find a glowing box, and say, hey, my children are already strange and powerful but I feel like they need another sibling, and this cube looks like it could fight crime!"
"Does Diego know?" asked Allison. Judging by the look on Klaus' face, there was no need to elaborate.
"Our temperamental and avoidant brother is many things," said Klaus, "oblivious being one of them. But yes, I think the fact that he isn't to blame for our young brother's grievous wound might have passed through his spandex-limiting filters."
Allison nodded in understanding.
"That's why he's avoiding you."
Klaus said nothing in response, merely looked away.
"Klaus."
A third sigh, but this one wasn't silly or Klaus-like or light and airy. It was heavy and weary and reluctant, pulled from somewhere deep inside.
"Allison, what do you want from me?"
Allison hesitated. What did she want? An account? Something detailing everything going through Klaus' mind? Because based purely on past experience, she knew she would get it. Honesty perhaps? Direction? Something to make sense of all of the change they had experienced, and from someone who spent his life constantly adapting to change?
"Are you okay?"
"Did you know," started Klaus, "that Twinkies don't have an endless shelf life? Five was right about that at least. We had some in the war, someone snuck them onto base. They went faster than cigarettes, and those were snatched up like quarters. And the plastic wrappers? They go hell of a way towards plugging sucking chest wounds."
"What are you talking about?"
Klaus gave a small smile. He picked up the bottle and held it out to Allison.
"Diego will probably find the alcohol ring around the barn," he said, getting to his feet. "It's just in case we need to set something on fire later. Can't be too careful."
And he disappeared into the darkness.
The bottle shattered in Allison's grip.
