…
His breath hitched. He couldn't believe it. Had Allison just …?
Knife cluttering to the ground, Diego staggered back a step. His shaking hand went up to his head, where an awful pain was pulsing like it was a living thing.
He had cut himself. He'd felt the knife slice through his skin like it was nothing, had felt it - heard it - scrape his skull. His eyes rolled back a little again at the memory, still so fresh and … breathtaking.
He'd done this. But only because she'd made him. She'd told him to, and he hadn't been able to fight her. His own sister.
He'd had it coming, he knew that, too. And why couldn't he ever leave well enough alone? Why did he always have to pick a fight with Luther?
This time, Allison had made him pay.
A gasp escaped him. He was vaguely aware of Ben wrapping his arms around him, lowering him to the ground. Looking up, Diego tried to say something, tried to ask what the hell happened, but all he got out was one garbled, "Wha-"
Then she came over. Allison. And an odd panic seized him, making him back away like a cornered animal.
"Don't," he pressed out. "Don't touch me."
Blood was seeping out of him, through the hand he'd plastered over the gash in his head - the source of a too-strong pain. It hurt so bad. Why did it hurt so bad? He'd suffered stab wounds before, cuts. But nothing had ever been this bad.
Allison flopped down on her knees before him, her hand hovering a few inches away from him. Something kept her in place. Her mouth was still working, but she had fallen silent after a few apologies. Deep down he knew she meant it. He could see it, too. She was almost as shocked as he was.
But it was too early to forgive, to accept her apology, accept his own part in all of it.
Because it hurt, in more ways than one.
…
Luther came racing back with mom a few minutes later. When they entered the kitchen, Allison scrambled away, still muttering apologies, and he followed her with his gaze as she shot past them into the hallway and out of sight.
"Uh …"
Great, eloquent as usual. Clamping his mouth shut, he was grateful when he saw mom giving him a brief smile.
"I'll take care of Diego, sweetie. Why don't you check on her? Poor child, I'm sure she didn't mean to."
"Right." He nodded, trying to smile back at her, but she had already hunched down in front of Diego, stroking his cheek with one hand as she grimaced at the nasty cut. And it was nasty. Luther's stomach turned a little as he watched mom pry Diego's hand away from it, the skin parting like a friggin bloody canyon.
"It's going to be alright. You're going to be fine," mom hummed, and Luther exchanged a brief glance with Ben - his brother's eyes wide and worried.
"I should …" He pointed behind them into the hallway, and Ben nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "I'll stay with Diego."
Luther pressed his lips together. Good thing Ben was here, because he sure as hell wouldn't have been good at being there for Diego.
Even now, the kid's empty shocked stare made him more angry than sympathetic, and deep down he knew that was wrong, too. It was just. This was Diego, and he kinda deserved a bit of punishment.
A bit, though.
Not this.
Closing his eyes, he clenched his hands into fists then turned on his heels and ran out after Allison. He had an idea where she'd gone. And she needed him right now.
…
She was sobbing when he found her.
"Allison?"
His voice was calm if sad, and she sniffled, wiping her nose as she averted her face.
She couldn't talk to him right now. She just … couldn't.
"Hey …"
He sat down next to her anyway, in their little hiding spot on top of the manor. And when he put an arm around her shoulders, she didn't have it in her to push him away, not even for a second, and she melted into his sideways-embrace, new tears burning in her eyes.
"Oh gosh, what did I do?"
"He had it coming."
She scoffed, the sound wet with tears, and when he handed her a tissue - always so proper, always so prepared - she took it with a grateful sigh.
"Thanks," she allowed. "But no. You're just trying to make me feel less like a piece of trash. That's never gonna heal alright. Not … not that."
"You didn't tell him to cut so deep, did you?"
"That's not how it works, Luther."
"No? Then how does it work?"
"It's …" She gave up. There was no use trying to explain what she didn't quite understand herself, so she settled on a different route instead. "I did tell him there'd be lots of blood."
"Yeah, well. He can spare it. He's a big boy. Mom is already there patching him back up. It's not his first injury. Won't be his last, either."
"But it was the first time I was responsible! I can't … he's my brother, we're supposed to have each other's backs, always. Having one abuser in the family is bad enough, but two?"
More sobs were building up inside of her, making her throat hurt too much. Angry now, she wiped her eyes, taking shuddering breaths to force herself to calm down.
"Hey, now," Luther said. "Don't compare yourself to him."
She looked up, a little awed. This was the first time he'd ever - even if not in so many words - admitted that Reginald Hargreeves was indeed an abuser. Or at least he hadn't denied it. Number One, dad's fanboy if ever there was one. Loyal to a fault.
A small smile tugged at her insides. She knew better than to call him out on it, though. Reality came back to the forefront of her mind all too soon anyways.
"I need to go back down there. See how he is."
"No."
Luther's tone made her crease her brow.
"He's hurt. I need to-"
"Give him space."
His eyes, his stare said everything, more than words ever could. And what she could read in them was a surprise, too. Luther cared. About her, yes, about her getting rebuked again. But also about Diego, his wounded animal of a brother, who needed time to process, time away from his attacker.
Luther was protecting them both, wasn't he?
Sighing, Allison gave in and buried her face against his chest. It was a good spot to hide, the best. But she knew she wouldn't be able to hide from this forever.
…
Reginald visited them both after the incident. Wrinkling his nose, he came to the small infirmary to check on Number Two, finding the boy lying on the white sheets of one of the beds, looking paler than usual, paler even than after the last few missions gone wrong.
"What happened?" he asked, fixing his monocle as he squinted down at Two, pushing past a fussing Grace.
"Oh, I think Diego needs a little more rest before-"
"I asked the boy a question," he cut her off, stepping closer to the kid's bed. Beside him, slumped in a chair, sat Six, waking up out of an uneasy sleep.
"Dad."
"Silence, Number Six. I asked your brother a question and I have yet to hear his reply. Two: what happened."
Number Two swallowed visibly, his hand reaching up to his head as he sat up straight, despite Grace's feeble attempts to stop him.
"Training accident," the kid bit out. As he swung his legs out of the bed, his eyelids flickered for a few seconds, and Reginald stepped forward, pushing a hand against his chest. Two flinched away, catching himself too late.
"Listen to your mother, she said you need more rest."
"I'm fine, Sir."
He raised an eyebrow, taking the boy in. He always was rather defiant. The least special of his children if going by their abilities. Yet far from ordinary. There was a reason why he'd kept him around all this time …
"Very well. It's time for supper. Help the others set the table if you're truly fine."
Jaw muscles dancing, Two got out of bed, swatting both Grace and Six away as he took a few steps. But then he half-tumbled toward the wall, clutching at it to steady himself and Reginald found himself closest to him and … grabbing him by the arm to guide him back to the bed.
Still, the boy tried to tear his arm away, and with a wry expression, Reginald handed over to Six, who had appeared beside his brother, shooting him a timid look.
"I got him, dad. I'll be down to help with dinner in a minute, yeah?"
Reginald gave a small jerk of the head, scoffing to himself. Just as well. He had someone else to talk to.
He'd come back here later, find a decent punishment for Two. If there was one thing he didn't tolerate, it was lying.
…
Allison wasn't hungry. After her talk with Luther, she had gone back to her room, trying to hide away from the world and dinner, and her own guilty conscience.
But there was no hiding at this place.
A tap on her door was the only warning she got before it flew open, and dad stepped in, looming in the doorway, larger than life. His expression was … indifferent, as usual. Yet she could sense something else behind it.
"I heard there was an incident in the kitchen earlier?"
"Um …"
Her voice was too shaky. Goosebumps were rippling across her arms. She couldn't look at him anymore, she couldn't. But, if she looked away, he'd know.
He probably already did. Surely, Diego already told him everything.
"I know you were there, Number Three. Tell me your version of the events."
"Dad, it's … Whatever Diego told you-"
"He lied to me. Do better."
"He … lied?" Allison's mouth fell open. Lying was quite possibly one of the worst offenses in their father's eyes. Diego was smarter than that, wasn't he?
Except. He'd probably tried to protect her …
"So?"
"I … I'm so sorry. I … I used my powers on him. I know it's bad, it's unforgivable. But he … he kept taunting us - Luther, he kept taunting Luther and I just … I lost it. I don't know what happened."
Oddly cool, Reginald stared at her. No, hands behind his back, monocle in place, he was studying her.
"What exactly did you say to him?"
"Please, dad, I'd rather-"
"The exact words."
Lips trembling, she tried to make her voice carry, fear lodging at the nape of her neck, crawling down her spine like an icy spider.
"'I heard a rumor that you, T-two, sliced nothing but your own thick head here today, spilling … spilling only your own blood. And and lots of it." Closing her eyes, she slumped in on herself where she was still sitting on her bed, legs crossed under her, waiting for her father to rain down his punishment on her.
But for a long time, there was nothing. Then, when she was raising her head a little again and dared look up, he was standing there, looking out her window as if deep in thought.
"Dad?"
"Impressive. You two … With his extreme sense of … yet you still managed to manipulate him, using his own skill set against him."
"Dad, I-"
"Have you used that phrasing before?"
"What?"
"I heard a rumor?"
"Um, I …" She shook her head, confused. "I don't know."
"I want you to use it again. I can see you are … out of sorts, so I'll give you the night off. Work on collecting yourself. Come tomorrow, seven sharp, meet me in my office for practice."
With that, he turned around and left, the door clicking shut behind him. Allison tried to process, to understand his lack of anger and punishment. His strange reaction.
She was glad Diego hadn't been there for this. It would've only made things worse if he'd seen how easy she'd gotten off …
But it wasn't so easy, was it? It never was.
…
"So, I heard you almost managed to make our favorite knife-wielding hero-complexed brother cut his own head off?"
Five was beaming at her over breakfast, and Allison glowered at him, then Ben, then Klaus, trying to figure out who had tattled on her. Beside her, Vanya was staring hard into her bowl of oatmeal, and Allison felt strangely relieved by her sister's calming presence when both Ben and Klaus shrugged at her.
"He still in the infirmary?" Five asked around a mouthful of Cheerios, and nobody even met his eyes, until Luther cleared his throat.
"Dad said he'll be there later, for practice."
"Really? But he let him sleep in now, or what? Is he growing soft?"
"Actually, I think it's, uh, part of his punishment for lying to dad about this?"
Allison choked on a bite. Across from her, the same thing seemed to have happened to Five.
"Wait. So the victim of our dear Allison doesn't get to eat breakfast, while the culprit herself is munching on …" He frowned at her. "What is that, anyways? Pudding?"
"Yogurt." Great, she thought. She was really contributing to this. But she couldn't think, couldn't function. Diego was being punished?
"Leave her alone, Five." Luther's tone brokered no argument, and for some odd reason, Five indeed let it go.
"Well," Ben piped up. I'll better check on Diego before …" He trailed off when their father appeared in the doorway, a sulking Diego in tow.
"Good. You're all here. I'll say this once only, so you better listen carefully. Do not ever use your powers against each other again. None of you. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Now. Everyone, time for practice. Number Three, you'll come with me."
"Dad. Can …" Allison's ears grew hot as Reginald's harsh stare bored into her. "Can you please let Diego eat before … Otherwise, after … after yesterday …" She couldn't bring herself to say it. But much to her relief, she didn't have to.
From somewhere, Pogo had appeared, looking up at Reginald with a demure expression.
"She's right, Master. The boy needs sustenance. You heard Miss Grace."
Reginald licked his lips, squinting at them all, his gaze landing on Diego last, who hadn't once met anyone's eyes. Allison shivered when she saw the way he now scowled at their father, defiant as usual, but a bit hollower today, and so so pale.
"You may eat and then join us."
Allison was almost certain she heard Diego mumble a "Fuck you too," but thankfully Vanya was clapping her hands loudly right next to her as she got to her feet.
"I guess that's my cue. I'll leave you all to it and do a little practice of my own," she muttered, suddenly way quieter again, and the way she exchanged a look with Diego, brushing past him so close she could put a hand on his arm for a moment told Allison that their sister had clapped on purpose, saving Diego from the wrath of their father like so often.
Siblings … You couldn't live with nor without them …
…
I hope you liked it thus far. I'm debating on continuing this, but we shall see. Sorry for any mistakes, I didn't get a chance to edit but wanted to post before school starts back up tomorrow and I'll be a lot busier. lol