A/N:

I'm aliiiiiiiiiiiive!
And it only takes a genuine apocalypse to get me back to writing about a fictional one...
I apologize that this took so long to get out. I don't like posting things before they're fully written, and the combination of my health issues and writer's block really kept that from happening. The first few chapters have been sitting on my computer since I posted House of Wolves.
But, ta duh! It's here! It's true! It exists!
Hope you're actually still interested in reading...
This basically follows the TV show with the differences in Klaus' personality driving the plot. Title taken from the MCR song.

Chapter 1

New York was exactly how he remembered it, and so was the mansion. How his bastard of a father had managed to buy up and keep a whole block of the city was a mystery he'd never questioned as a kid, but now he just assumed the eldest Hargreeves had his own less-than-respectable business practices going on. It didn't matter much to him anyways. While the others might be hoping for some form of inheritance, Klaus didn't really need the money (although he definitely wouldn't refuse it if it was offered - that was kind of his whole shtick). From the brief research he conducted on his way back to the city, he and Allison seemed to be the only two Hargreeves who worked out how to profit off their powers (he'd give up his own more-than-modest fortune if she hadn't rumored her way to her celebrity status). Five disappeared (although he certainly wasn't dead), Ben died, Luther stayed as far up Dad's ass as possible and went to live on the moon, Diego flunked from police academy and now stalked the streets as a vigilante, and Vanya was buried in her violin, just like when they were kids. He was still sort of annoyed with her after her bullshit book, though.

She'd pegged him for a junkie, and while once it might have been true, might have been how he ended up, there was a lot dearest Number Seven had missed. Now, it was true he enjoyed his parties, and he indulged on a semi-frequent basis, but he didn't require the drugs to function - not after he got the hang of dismissing spirits. His problem before was that the drugs were the only absolute way to make them leave him alone. On occasion he could dismiss them like he did the first night he became aware of his telekinesis, but it was unpredictable. Drugs were easier and allowed him time to think in peace. Frank cautioned him, taught him how to use without going too far (although he, too, disappeared when the bliss took over - that more than anything kept him from abusing too often. He didn't like being away from Frank for too long). Vanya didn't even know Frank existed, didn't know the limits they'd worked out, didn't know what happened behind closed doors. She only saw her own suffering and didn't care that all of them had been fucked over by Dad, some worse than others. Klaus would've taken normal over some of Father's experiments any day. After the book, he'd been recognized more frequently, which made people take him less seriously. He was just a junkie, after all - easy to dispose of. A few of his targets swiftly learned that wasn't the case.

He didn't doubt all of his siblings had also read the book and had the same mental image of him as Vanya. When he made the decision to return to the city for the funeral, he also decided that he absolutely should not show his siblings the real person he had become. Let them have their derisive thoughts - it was better than any of them deciding he was a threat to be disposed of (he definitely wouldn't put it past Luther).

Klaus continued rifling through his father's office, pocketing interesting trinkets. An extremely expensive looking box caught his eye, and when shaken revealed what sounded like papers and a book. He tucked that away into his waistband, the flair of his coat hiding the shape. Pawning the old man's so carefully collected crap would be wonderful. He didn't need the money, but he liked the thought of taking something from the man. His father had often cared more about these stupid trinkets than any of them.

"You ought to look for his notes on all of your powers," Frank suggested. "Could be an interesting read."

"Right! Good plan. I want to see what the bastard wrote about me!" he renewed his rifling through the drawers, looking for that damned notebook of his.

"Klaus?" a familiar feminine voice questioned. Klaus resisted the urge to place his hands over his ears at the sound of her voice, and instead pulled himself out from underneath the desk, search at least temporarily concluded. "What are you doing?"

"Oh! Allison," Klaus gave her a massive smile, pretending the very sight of her didn't make his skin crawl (he remembered all the times she rumored him - the times she got Luther to beat him up for her…). She was gorgeous as always, but what else was expected from a movie star? "Wow, is that you? Hey, come here, long time!" he pulled her into a hug.

"Too long," she responded, pretending she was a caring sibling.

"Hey, I was hoping to see you actually," he lied to her with a happy tone, "because I wanted to get your autograph! Add it to my collection," he flashed her an adoring smile, appealing to that ego he knew was lurking just below the surface.

She scanned him up and down, clearly looking for signs to confirm her negative opinion of him. He'd still been using drugs and alcohol on occasion to manage the spirits when they had last seen each other. If anyone thought he was a junkie, he was sure it would be Allison. She'd always been the most shallow of the siblings and never even bothered trying to look past her preconceptions. She wouldn't find the signs of drug abuse she was expecting, but her eyes lingered on his tight, leather pants, fur lined coat, and mesh top. The eyeliner probably didn't hurt either.

She still looked highly suspicious, so he continued speaking. "I just came down here to prove to myself that the old man was really gone. And he is! He's dead! Yeah!" he clapped, watching her expression switch to bemused. "You know how I know? Because if he were alive, not one of us would be allowed to set foot in this room." Allison became more maudlin at that response, glancing around at the various items spread before them. Klaus sat himself in the chair and tossed his feet up on the desk. "He was always in here, our whole childhood. Plotting his next torment, right? Remember how he used to look at us? That scowl?" he pointed at the severe looking portrait hanging on the wall. Who needed a portrait of themselves hanging in their office? He'd always wanted to deface the portraits around the house, but Frank managed to talk him out of it at the last second each time. (Most of the time...there were a few portraits squirrelled away in the attic that no one ever bothered looking at anyways.)

"There's good ole Number One, sneaking around the corner. Interesting that he even tried to sneak, considering how big he's gotten," Frank cut in. Klaus avoided glancing in his direction like a professional, continuing to entertain Allison.

"Thank Christ he's not our real father so we couldn't inherit those cold, dead eyes!" he used his fingers to emphasize his point, letting out a mock yell. Frank probably warned him so he could switch to a more appropriate behavior around the former team leader, but he and Klaus had always had different ideas of appropriate behavior anyways, so Klaus didn't see the point. (And if he also didn't want to take his eyes off the biggest threat in the house - what was super strength or accuracy in the face of reality manipulation? - well, that was only reasonable.) "Number Three!" Allison giggled at him, even as Luther chose that moment to intrude.

"Get out of his chair." It was almost amusing how Luther attempted to mimic their father's severity all while looking like a circus freak.

"Oh, wow, Luther! You really filled out over the years, huh?" he stood from the chair, making a mocking gesture at his "older" brother.

"Klaus," he received a glower in response.

"Save the lecture, I was already leaving. You guys can talk amongst yourselves," he moved to exit the room, glad for the excuse, when Luther placed a heavy hand on his chest, stopping him.

"Drop it," he demanded.

"Ex-squeeze me?" Klaus raised his eyebrows. Luther had never been particularly observant in the past, and he doubted his brother knew specifically what he had taken. He probably made the assumption based off the 'junkie looking for a fix' archetype.

"Do it. Now."

Klaus paused, considering, and then turned and moved back to the desk. "All right, all right. It's just an advance on our inheritance! That's all it is!" he dropped most of the trinkets he'd collected on the floor in front of the desk, making no movement to reveal or remove the box. "No need to get your little panties in a bunch," he taunted the brother who remained a kissass even after their old man was gone for good. Well, gone for their good. He hadn't tried yet and didn't really want to, but Klaus was sure he could force the man's spirit to appear in front of him if he pushed. He actually had been genuinely surprised Dad hadn't shown up the moment he started defiling the office with his presence. He didn't really want to test his stubbornness against the old man's though, so his absence was somewhat of a relief.

Klaus left Allison and Luther to their happy little reunion, hearing something about a relief that he was still the same old Klaus, and he suppressed a nasty sneer. Right. The same pushover Number Four from their childhood, relatively useless (as far as they knew), but hey, at least he hadn't been poor, ordinary Number Seven. He mentally shook his head at how worked up he was still getting over their poor family dynamics. Frank had taught him long ago how useless family was - it's why his mentor had disposed of his wife and children before exiting the world. Sometimes he pushed for Klaus to do the same - to take out potential opposition, the only living people in the world who had a hold over him - but Klaus continually convinced him it would draw too much attention.

After making it a reasonable distance from every living sibling in the house, Klaus removed the shiny, expensive box from where he'd hidden it, and started working at the clasp. He paused when he heard a shuffling sound and moved into the semi-privacy of his old bedroom, locking the door behind him. He knelt on the floor and grabbed the nearest metal item - a pair of scissors - and started banging at the lock on the box, cackling with joy when it finally broke open, revealing his prize. And oh, what a prize! The exact item he was looking for. An expensive leather notebook, shiny R.H. engraved on the top.

His hands trembled slightly as he pulled the book from the box, ignoring the sheaves of paper also enclosed within.

"Is that…?" Ben looked stunned.

"Dad's old torture notebook? Why yes, yes it is," Klaus' grin nearly split his face in two, and it was mirrored by Frank's mangled face which literally was split in two. "Shall we see what he has to say about us?" Klaus got more comfortable on the floor.

"This feels wrong," Ben said slowly, as Klaus cracked open the cover.

"Number One," Klaus read over his brother's goody two shoes nature, "'Enhanced physical strength and resilience,' blah, blah, blah, 'excels at everything he tries,' 'dedication bordering on inhuman,' - well, I'm glad even Dad was able to notice that - 'my favorite.' What a shocker."

"Klaus," Ben said cautiously again.

"What?" he looked up at his brother. "You want to hear what Dad had to say about you? Okay." He flipped forwards several pages, even as Ben spat out the negative. "'Gruesome but fascinating…'" Klaus paused, but then pushed on. Ben should hear this. "'Easily manipulated due to enthusiastic if naive nature. Must learn to suppress my nausea to study further.'"

Ben had started looking pale as he started, and by the end was trembling. He hadn't even read through the experiment notes.

"That's what he thinks of you, Number Six . All of us were just experiments to him! I mean, this is far from the worst he said about you! You're not his lap dog anymore - you're dead. Because of him. You've never been as bad about hero worshiping him as Luther, but he doesn't deserve any kind of regard from you."

"Put it away, Klaus."

"What? You don't want to hear what he has to say about the rest of our siblings? How about mine?" Klaus flipped the pages.

Ben didn't respond, but continued glaring solemnly at him.

"Fine!" he slammed the book shut. "There will be plenty of time for it later. It's best to get rid of the evidence before Luther or Pogo think about what I was really doing in Dad's office."

He stood from the floor, levitating the book and other files into the section he had carved out of the ceiling long ago to hide his contraband. The panel slid easily back into place, and Klaus took the fancy pearl box and left the mansion. It wasn't difficult to find a pawn shop that would accept the clearly stolen item, and while Klaus didn't need the cash it got him, it'd be nice not to have to use one of his credit cards around his siblings and answer the questions of how or where he got it from. (Not that he was planning to be around them for much longer - he didn't know where that idea came from.)

To distract himself, Klaus returned to the mansion and started rifling through all of his siblings' belongings (or at least, the belongings present in their old rooms). He stole a knife from Diego, rubbed Luther's toothbrush in his armpit, changed into one of Allison's skirts, rifled through Vanya's sheet music, and grabbed one of Ben's abandoned books. If Ben was still grumpy with him later, he could give it to him as a present (he refused to be there when Klaus went through all the rooms because it would be an 'invasion of privacy.' Hadn't he learned yet?)

He got Luther's memo shortly after touching up his makeup, and joined the rest of his surviving siblings in one of the living rooms.

He ignored most of the conversation other than making his sarcastic comments, until Luther's attention was focused solely on him. "Look, I know you don't like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad."

Klaus rolled his eyes and scoffed at Number One. Luther knew nothing. "I can't just call Dad in the afterlife and be like 'Dad, could you just stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call.'"

"Since when? That's your thing!" Luther pushed again.

Which, yeah, that is his thing, but as far as the Academy jerks were aware, he had stopped being able to conjure the dead the moment he turned into a drug addict. They hadn't been particularly nice to him during this reunion, Luther especially, so he didn't see why he should let them in on a truth they wouldn't even care to believe. Wouldn't fit into their world view. He would stick with his initial plan - cater to their expectations and not let the truth slip.

"I'm not in the right frame of mind." That was actually sort of true. If he summoned Dad right now, he'd probably use too much power and really show his family a thing or two about who he had become. He had been told by several spirits that he got a certain look when he was bending the dead to his will. Something in his expression that was chilling - he supposed that would be the general lack of care. And for all that his family had their negative opinions of him, they had never seen him as particularly powerful or dangerous, and it was still more convenient to keep it that way. At least for now.

"You're high?" his siblings demanded.

Good. They proved him right. Their first thoughts were about drugs, not about his emotional state or current level of control. Fuck them. "Well, sober up, this is important."

Klaus shakes his head at Number One. Would the esteemed team leader even believe him if he told everyone what Dad had to say? No. They would demand proof. And since they didn't know he could make ghosts solid and audible now, as far as they were aware he wouldn't be able to provide it. A pointless exercise in demonstrating how inferior he is to the main team again. Oh how he loved family reunions. (He was starting to wish he hadn't come, despite how much he wanted to see the evidence of the old man finally being gone.)

"Isn't it obvious? He thinks one of us killed Dad," he tuned back in as Diego revealed Luther's focus.

He actually gaped at his brother. Really? Luther didn't deny it, and that just made the situation that much more interesting. He wondered where he ranked on Luther's suspect scale. Not very high judging by how he was asked to provide more evidence, but then, maybe he had just been waiting to see what Klaus would say in response. He'd probably move up a few places if Luther knew he was capable of summoning their father but hadn't. Klaus almost wished it had been him. Honestly his top suspect was probably Diego. But Diego was busy the night of Dad's actual death, so unless he had developed a new power none of them knew about (not actually all that unlikely, now that he thought about it), then it wasn't him. (Klaus had long since acquired a network of informants in the ghosts around the city who refused to move on. It took a significant amount of his energy to restore some of their sanity and reasonability, and many of them still would only do their own things, but occasionally they turned up and gave him some good intel of what was going on in the city. The network around the mansion was his first attempt at it - his informants back in L.A. were much more reliable - but several of them approached him when he stepped back into town and gave reports like he had never left.)

The family dispersed in the wake of Luther's motives being revealed, and Klaus went his own way. He thought about returning to his room and going through more of the book, but tensions were high right now and he didn't want to be caught with it if someone (*cough* Luther *cough*) decided to barge in on him without knocking. He couldn't trust Frank to be a lookout because he would want to see the contents too, and he couldn't trust Ben as a lookout for obvious reasons, and he didn't care enough to summon another spirit just for that role.

With a sigh, he headed to Dad's bar, deciding he really was too sober to deal with his family. Less than a day and he already wanted to gouge his own eyes out. Frank and Ben could forgive him for indulging one night. He passed the urn filled with Dad's ashes on the way and scoffed at the container. Pretentious. Usually the remains would be a nice place for the spirit to hang out, but there was still no sign of Dear Dead Dad. He did pause to wonder if the man had actually managed to peacefully pass on, before dismissing the idea. Reginald Hargreeves? Leave the world without kicking and screaming and one last attempt at manipulation? Never. He was just being stubborn.

Klaus grabbed a bottle of the good whiskey and toasted his father's ashes. "Feel free to take your sweet time. I don't want to talk to you anyway. The less effort I have to make and the longer it takes you the better." He downed several glasses quickly, sure that would really piss his father off, seeing him wasting the liquor.

Frank and Ben faded into the background, although Ben was still slightly more present. Ben had always been stubborn that way.

Klaus faded into the pleasant buzz, pondering next steps. He had technically already done what he had come for, but things were starting to get interesting now. Had his father actually been murdered? Sure, it was a possibility. The man probably had loads more enemies if his children were anything to go by. Did he care enough to ask him directly? Absolutely not. But he did care enough to stick around and see how Luther's 'investigation' went. Sure, leave the brunt force guy to do the thinking. He'd been on the moon for the past 4 years. He probably wasn't even caught up on Earth-related drama. (Not that Klaus was either, but that was more willful ignorance than just ignorance.)

A sound kicked into the background, disturbing his peaceful moment. Luther was playing one of his records as loud as it would go. 'I Think We're Alone Now.' How apt. With the alcohol in his system, he felt relaxed enough to give in to the beat - it was a catchy song, sue him - even climbing on the table as another fuck you to Dad.

Klaus had a fraction of a moment to catch the urn of ashes that went flying at him when the music cut off. Had Dad finally manifested? As a ridiculously angry poltergeist? Several knives slammed into the wall.

But, no, something was happening outside. He followed the others into the courtyard, staring at the temporal anomaly. (Yes, Luther was probably right the first time around.) It was kind of pretty. Reminded him a bit of the glow left behind when Five used his power. (Who was being maudlin now? This place was bringing out all sorts of emotions!)

Of course, that was about when Five dropped out of the portal, looking exactly the same as he did when he ran away all those years ago.

"Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?" Klaus asked, not sure if Five had made it back alive or dead.

The consensus seemed to agree on 'alive,' and they reconvened in the house. Klaus sat back on the table, even as the others all gathered around to watch the mystery that was Five. Five who had jumped into whatever crapshoot the future was and only cared about his own suffering but took a moment to compliment his dress… (it was only a skirt and jacket top, but hey, a compliment was a compliment).

Klaus wished he hadn't given in to the temptation to drink earlier. He wanted Frank with him for this conversation. He could see Ben in the corner of his eye, also staring at Five, but Ben wasn't and wouldn't ever be Frank.

Five stormed off with his sandwich, and the family all left to do their own things again. Klaus sighed, and moved back into the living room. He'd always liked how wide and open the room was. (The mausoleum had screwed up small spaces for him. Part of why he knocked down the wall between his and Vanya's rooms and took over her space the moment she was gone.) Returning to the Academy was just getting more and more complicated. Dad just so happened to die the week Five returned from the future? That seemed unlikely. But how could he have managed to die just a few days before Five returned? Five would have come back to an empty house if not for the funeral. The 'suspicious circumstances' Luther had been spouting on and on about were looking more likely by the minute.

If he was sober, all he would need to do was flick his fingers to get answers. If he was sober, he probably would have done it already. Of course, he still had no desire to show Dad just how much he had advanced outside of his tender love and care, but at the same time he wanted to rub his power in Dad's face. Show him how much more he had become. He wasn't one of his father's stupid heroes, destined to save the world. He was his own person, with his own life, and his own methods of using his power. Klaus sighed again, ignoring Ben's watchful gaze. He didn't have to decide yet. He wouldn't have to decide until morning.

The clock ticked faithfully onward, and Klaus pulled himself off the couch at the agreed upon time and met the others by the door to the courtyard. The rain put a damper on things, but the pink plastic umbrella he had left by the door years ago was still there. The others all grabbed black umbrellas, with the exception of the ever-dramatic Luther and Diego.

Klaus sniggered to himself when Luther dumped the ashes, the rain making them wet and clumped together. An inglorious ending for a vainglorious man.

Pogo said his sweet, deferential words, which Diego couldn't let stand. And of course, Diego insulted their father, which Luther couldn't let stand. Most of the others attempted to break up the fight, but Klaus cheered them on. Finally, something to liven up this funeral! He wanted Diego to win, although he knew from their childhood that it would be unlikely. But Luther had been on the moon for four years, so his abilities had to have slacked some, right? Not that his bulk had decreased at all. He still couldn't get over Luther's freakish increase in size.

"And there goes Ben's statue," Allison rolled her eyes, as Luther actually threw a punch with his full strength.

The head rolled off, and Klaus glanced at the Ben standing next to him, and the sorrow in his eyes. He had been begging Klaus to step in and stop them up until this point. Now he just looked fatigued and depressed.

Diego whipped out a knife, and Klaus expected things to get more interesting, but he merely winged dear Number One who immediately ran off, and everyone else left the party soon after.

Now alone in the courtyard, Klaus approached the ugly pile of ashes, and crouched down close. "I bet you're loving this, hmm? The team at its best. It's just like old times. Best funeral ever." He wished he had something to deface the remains with but settled for just spitting on them. Good riddance. He passed Ben's statue as he moved to go back into the house. Served the ugly thing right - Ben had never liked it anyways. None of the others had taken him seriously when he told them that at the ceremony, however. Of course not. Don't believe the brother who sees the dead when he tells you what the dead are saying. Typical of his entire life within this family, and another reason why Luther's demand that he summon Dad was so damn ridiculous.

Klaus was struck with the sudden urge to get as far away from the house as he could. To leave and never come back, like had been his original plan. Christ, he'd even gone to the other side of the country! Not entirely outside the range of his father's influence, but far enough from his precious Academy that Klaus had been left to his own devices. The freedom to make his own choices and use his powers in the ways he wanted was always something he would treasure. (He really shouldn't have had those drinks earlier).

Conveniently enough, Diego had also decided to leave the house, and it wasn't too difficult to convince him to let Klaus tag along. He didn't have an exact destination in mind, just… away. Maybe get something to eat. Tomorrow, he would get some answers.

A/N:

And there is the first Chapter!
Not significantly different from canon yet, but hey, sober Klaus keeps the notebook... that'll probably change a few things down the line... you'll have to come back for the next chapter to find out what!
The lines Klaus reads from the notebook came directly from the comics.
I haven't decided on an upload schedule yet... I'm open to suggestions though lol
I hope everyone is staying healthy and *at home*! I definitely don't want this isolation continuing for much longer. It's already driving me crazy.