2:38pm, Friday August 16th, 2019

Diego watches him from the doorway, arms folded across his chest like a shield. Five is motionless, doll-like, anti-psychotic meds keeping him locked in a state of near catatonia. His chest rises and falls with each quiet breath and Diego envies him that much at least; he feels like he hasn't been able to breathe properly since he got back from New York this morning.

They'd weathered a couple violent episodes before but nothing like this.

Diego frowns and shakes his head at no one in particular. Five is getting worse. He's getting worse faster than they can adapt to and none of them know what to do about it.

The trip to New York had been a colossal waste of time, ending with the same prognosis as always; they weren't sure what was wrong, they didn't know how to treat it, they wanted to run some more tests and there wasn't a cure for the dementia Five appeared to be suffering from but they were more than happy to stuff him full of drug cocktails and poke around at what was left of his brain provided his siblings kept the checks coming. Barring that, there were a number of 'very fine' institutions they could look into.

Not for the first time, Diego wonders if they'd made the right call when they stopped Five from-

"Hey," Vanya says quietly, sliding up next to him. The whole family's here today; they have a lot of things to discuss. "How is he?"

His shoulder twitches. "Asleep," he replies. He tries to think of something to add to that but all good words have absconded to higher ground. "How's Klaus?" He asks finally, even though he'd just talked to him.

"He's okay," Vanya says, seeming happy to be able to deliver some good news. "Just bruises."

"Idiot," Diego spits. "I told him to be careful. Five's-"

Dangerous. Five is dangerous. They had to start accepting that about him. This went beyond loud noises and paper plates.

"-our brother," Vanya says, seeming to know what he's thinking.

"Is he?" Diego asks bitterly and leaves. He has to get away from this fucking room.

They're arguing again, though the mood all around is more subdued than in times past, everyone talking in hushed voices despite the subject of conversation being two floors above them and dead to the world. This time they're gathered in the lounge and this time Klaus isn't the only one with a drink in his hand. It's been a rough couple months for all of them.

"I'm with Luther," Vanya says, her face pale and strained. "I don't like the idea of hospice."

Diego's jaw clinches. Like anyone fucking liked it. He glances at Allison for support and she leans forward.

"They said it was worth looking into, based on the current rate of deterioration." Allison's probably the most composed among them right now but that was the actress in her. Not a bad performance overall but he'd been there with her on the flight home. He knows how hard she's taking it.

"How long has he got?" asks Klaus, voice still not recovered completely and it just goes to show how screwed up everything is that Klaus of all people is proving to be the reasonable one and asking the important questions. Then again he was almost killed-

Diego has to stop thinking about that right now or he's going to lose what's left of his cool.

"They don't know know for sure," Allison answers, and her voice is steady but her eyes are bright. "Maybe-maybe not longer than a month or two."

If he's lucky Diego thinks. Otherwise it could be much, much longer. That's something he doesn't think either Luther or Vanya have considered. By the time he pulls himself away from those thoughts he's missed a good chunk of the conversation.

"A nurse wouldn't know what to do for him-" Vanya's saying again, same familiar litany falling from her lips but Diego is tired of that cuts her off.

"We don't know what to do for him!" He counters, and he can tell by their faces they know he's right even if they don't want to admit it.

"You're asking us to give up on him," Luther says, immovable as always, a belligerent set to his shoulders.

"No, I just want us all to stop pretending like this is something we can deal with ourselves." The irony isn't lost on him, of course. The Umbrella Academy, the child prodigies, honest-to-god superheroes that saved the world and couldn't save their own brother.

"Okay, you want to be the one to explain to the doctors what happened to Five? Because they still think he has Alzheimer's"

"You wanna stop pretending like he's gonna get better?" Diego shoots back, "'cause he's not." And Jesus, talk about the shoe being on the other fucking foot. Four months ago Luther was the asshole in the room, wanting to switch off their mom and lock up their sister, and Diego had fought him on both points. Now look at him. The difference was that both times Luther had acted out of fear, paranoia and ignorance. Diego has better reasons than those.

Luther's mouth is an inflexible line of pure obstinance. "If there's any chance-"

"Is there? We've already talked to every specialist we can find. Thrown money at every research institute on the continent."

"You think we should have just let him die? Is that what you're saying?" Klaus asks and fuck, not Klaus too. This three against two shit was just unfair.

"No. No I'm not saying we should have let him die. I'm just saying I understand why he didn't want to live. He's a thirteen year old with dementia-"

"He doesn't have-" Luther starts in again and Diego wants to slug him because that is so not the fucking point.

"Shut up, Just shut up and listen. Names don't matter; call it whatever you want to. But he's thirteen and his mind is going. He barely recognizes us; I don't think he even knows where he is anymore. How much longer is it gonna be before he can't even go to the bathroom by himself? And his body's thirteen. Maybe this thing - whatever it is - kills him. But maybe not. Physically he's as strong and fast as ever. Klaus had the same basic combat training as the rest of us, so Five never would have gotten the drop on him otherwise. Whatever's happening, its not effecting his body. That means he could live another fifty, sixty years wearing diapers, not even knowing his own name. We could die from old age and he could still be here.

You all keep saying it's up to us because we know him. Well that's right, we do. And we all know that isn't the way he'd want to live, but that may be the choice we made for him. Now I don't regret saving his life, so I can own that. Can you? Cause it comes with some pretty unpleasant fucking realities."

His words drop into a heavy silence and for a few moments no one says anything at all. It's Luther who speaks first. "Last time I gave up on a member of this family the world ended. I'm not going to make that mistake again."

Diego nods, feeling like maybe, just maybe they were finished going around in circles. "So what are we going to do? 'Cause he's getting worse, and we can't deal with this on our own anymore."